Incandescent Read online

  Incandescent

  Book Two in Secrets of Eaton Series

  By MADELINE SLOANE

  Smashwords Edition

  Copyright 2014 Madeline Sloane

  ALSO BY MADELINE SLOANE

  The Women of Eaton Series

  Distracted

  East of Eaton

  West Wind

  The Secrets of Eaton Series

  Consequence

  Incandescent

  Dead Line

  INCANDESCENT

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright © 2014 by Madeline Sloane

  ISBN: 978-0-9898505-4-4

  http://www.MadelineSloane.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents described herein are either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. The author has represented and warranted full ownership and/or legal right to publish all the materials in this book.

  This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  MADELINE SLOANE BOOKS

  PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

  A Note to Readers

  Incandescent is the second book in the Secrets of Eaton series, and the fifth book in the Eaton novels. Each book introduces the townspeople and visitors, as well as their relationships and escapades. Each book is a complete story. If you do have a chance to read the others, do keep in mind that everyone is significant, and most likely will walk through a new story. Although Eaton is an imaginary place, it is reminiscent of all small towns in America. I hope you’ll enjoy visiting it as much as I do.

  Madeline Sloane

  DEDICATION

  To Ivan & Tanya

  and to my wonderful editors:

  Amy Trivedi, Helen Graul

  Heather Johnson, Ruth Nagele

  Sherry Hohn, Sanjana Rajesh Pai

  Jasmine Wagner, Stacey Paterson

  Krystyn Martz, Chrizzle Gaad

  And Sarah Abid

  Praise for Madeline Sloane

  Absolutely Delightful

  “Take a break from formulaic romance stories and fall in love with a modern, sexy man who isn’t burdened down with the stereotypical macho crap. I love my alphas, but there is no way that most of us could live with one in real life.

  Ms. Sloane does a great job creating realistic, witty characters. The story is fresh, the settings are unique and I feel like I need to sign up for sailing lessons or at least look for a hot man with a catamaran! We should all get a chance to be distracted like this.

  I am looking forward to more books by Ms. Sloane. If you are a fan of Ruthie Knox or Penny Reid you will love this book.”

  Amazon Customer

  A Great Beach Read

  This is a charming story that had all my favorite things in it: Books, Boats and hunky men (not necessarily in that order).

  Jen C.

  Thoroughly Enjoyable

  Madeline Sloane brings romance to the table with her first book! “Distracted” is cleverly written; the dialogue is well-delivered, easily readable and certainly enjoyable.

  Lucinda J. Knier

  A Cute Romance

  This was a cute romance. Erin is supposed to help Stephen hurry up and get his book done, which turns out to be an impossible task. Stephen’s tendency to put things off and enjoy life is cute and funny, but in real life, this guy would annoy me to no end. (And I’m laughing as I write that.)

  Ruth Ann Nordin “Historical Romance Author”

  Chapter One

  Anna leaned forward and blew out the twenty-seven candles on her birthday cake.

  “Did you make a wish? What was it?”

  Anna smiled at Gretchen and Lacey. “I wished our friendship would last forever. I love you guys.”

  “Tell me when you’re sober,” Gretchen said.

  Lacey raised her apple martini for a toast. “To us.”

  After three celebratory drinks, Anna couldn’t swallow another drop. Instead, she touched her glass to the others and held it aloft until the toast was over.

  “Wuss!” Gretchen taunted.

  “Leave her alone, Gretchen. She’s not a lush like you,” Lacey said.

  “Hey, you’re the lush.” Gretchen gave Lacey a friendly shove, and the two giggling women sloshed apple schnapps onto the tabletop.

  “Alright, ladies, I’m going to have to cut you off,” said their waiter, hovering near the table and ogling their long, tanned legs.

  Gretchen pouted. “Look, Mark, that’s no way to get my phone number.”

  She stood quickly; years of drinking with older brothers desensitized her against the effects of the liquor. She grabbed the waiter’s tie, tugged until they were eye-to-eye, and licked her lips. As his eyes widened, she winked. Her lips brushed his cheek before stopping at his ear, making him shiver. She whispered seven digits, released his tie and the young man stumbled backwards.

  “Excuse me, ladies. I have to pee,” she said.

  Lacey and Anna snickered as the goggle-eyed waiter watched Gretchen’s swaying hips retreat to the back of the restaurant.

  “You’d better call her. She’s temporarily single,” Lacey advised.

  The waiter smiled and winked before heading back to the bar.

  “Gretchen is crazy,” Anna said with a giggle. “She could get away with murder.”

  “Yeah, she’s fearless,” Lacey said, fishing in her handbag for car keys and humming a Taylor Swift tune. She burst into song: “Feaaarrrrrlessssssss!” She panicked. “Hey, where are my keys?”

  Anna pulled them from her skirt pocket. “Huh, little buddy. You’re not driving home drunk.”

  “Well, how am I supposed to get home?”

  “Walk. It’s only three blocks to the house.”

  “How am I supposed to get my car tomorrow?”

  “Walk. It’s only three blocks back.”

  Weaving in between tables, pausing twice to speak with friends and flirt with strangers, Gretchen returned. Catching the frustrated look on Lacey’s face and the smirk on Anna’s, she asked, “What’s up?”

  “Anna won’t give me my car keys. She says we have to walk home.”

  “I’ll give them to you if you promise to walk, not drive,” Anna said.

  Gretchen shrugged. “Hey, no big deal. We’re close. Anyway, the party’s not over. Let’s go somewhere else.”

  Anna shook her head. “Sorry. I promised Dad I would spend the weekend with him. I’m calling a taxi in a couple of minutes. Before I go, though, I need to know you two aren’t going to drive home.”

  Again, Gretchen shrugged. “Not a problem, but first, you have to open your presents.”

  Anna beamed at her two closest friends and reached for the small, gaily wrapped gift Gretchen took out of her handbag.

  She tugged at the colorful, thin ribbons and said, “I hate to unwrap your presents. The package is always so nice.”

  “That’s what happens when you run a gift shop.” Gretchen arched her eyebrows suggestively and added, “Wait ‘til you see what’s inside. I didn’t get it from work this time.”

  Anna slid a careful finger under the tape, lifted the foil, and spied a box bearing the name of a popular intimate apparel store. Opening the box, she knew her friends expected her to display the present. She held the sexy negligee by its thin straps and let the red, silky fabric unfold. Anna pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at Gretchen.

  “And when am I supposed to use this?”

  Gretchen scrunched her nose. “It’s an incentive,” she said. “You’ve been single long enough. It’s time you get back in the game.”

  “I didn’t know I was out of the game,” Anna said.

  Gretchen lifted Anna’s unfinished cocktail glass to her lips and swigged the remainder. “What about the hot, new reporter at the newspaper? What’s going on there?”

  “Jack DeSoto? No, I’m not interested in him. I mean, he’s gorgeous and all, but he’s not my type. Besides, he’s been flirting with the new bookstore owner,” Anna said, rolling her eyes.

  “You mean the woman who runs East of Eaton?” Lacey asked. “Her shop is in the building across the street from my folks’ place. She’s done a great job renovating it. If you think she’s into Jack DeSoto, think again. She’s dating a history professor from Marshall College.”

  Gretchen raised a triumphant fist in the air. “Yesss! He’s available, Miss Priss; now go after him.”

  Anna shook her head. “No, I told you, he’s not my type. He’s nice and funny, but I don’t want to go out with him.” She tucked the negligee back into the box. “I’ll save it for a rainy day. Besides, who says I need to wear it for some guy? I’ll wear it for myself.”

  Gretchen lifted Lacey’s unfinished drink and sipped, mumbling to herself. “Seems like a waste if you ask me.”

  Lacey jostled Gretchen’s arm. “Hey, that’s mine. If you want another, order one.” She hefted a large black plastic case wrapped with a bungee cord and handed it across the table to Anna. “Here, now open mine.”

  Anna snickered at the gift, knowing full well Lacey’s present would be the opposite of Gretchen’s. Since her family owned a camping and outfitters’ store, Lacey tended to give gifts from their catalog, often items she wanted for
herself. Anna was used to her friend’s unique possessions. They shared a house together. The place was cluttered with expensive camping and hiking gear, as well as emergency supplies. Lacey managed the shop after her parents retired, so she was in charge of the company’s inventory and tested every piece of equipment the business sold. If it didn’t pass Lacey’s stringent demands, it didn’t go on the shelf.

  Lacey worked hard to keep the company competitive with major retailers. She detested “big-box stores” because they threatened her livelihood.

  Anna lifted the black case, surprised at its light weight. She unwound the bungee cord and looked askance at Lacey.

  “It’s a reusable ribbon,” Gretchen quipped. “How like you, Lacey.”

  The girls laughed at the remark, since recycling was Lacey’s fanatical quest.

  Lacey lifted her chin in superiority. “Yes, it won’t go straight into a landfill,” she said, “unlike your wrapping paper and ribbon. Do you know how long the plastic coating on those items takes to break down?”

  “Ye Gods,” Gretchen groaned. “Let it go.”

  Anna opened the box and studied its contents with curiosity, lifted a small, hand-written note tucked inside and read: “Someday this could save your life. Don’t leave it at home.”

  Anna sifted through the assorted items, a smile tugging at her lips. “I’m not sure what to say. Thank you, Lacey.”

  “It’s an emergency kit for your car,” Lacey said. “I have one like it. They’re pretty cool. It has all the normal equipment, you know. Like a flashlight and batteries, jumper cables, thermal blankets, caution tape and such. There are also pocket rocket flares from the shop. You know, the ones I showed you last summer.”

  “Ten bucks says she’ll use my present first,” Gretchen said, rising from her chair. “C’mon, Lacey. Let’s go to your place and watch a movie. I have a present from the cute little waiter.” She pulled a small flask of vodka from the waistband of her skirt. “Got any schnapps?”

  Anna closed the emergency kit and wrapped the bungee cord around it. “I have to be going also. I’ll talk to you guys tomorrow,” she told her friends, then used her cell phone to call for a taxi.

  The two women waved goodbye, laughing as they supported each other to the door. Anna shook her head as they stumbled towards the sidewalk, giggling and swaying.

  Mark, the waiter, came to the table with the bill, watching through the window as Gretchen and Lacey sidled down the street.

  Anna’s smile faded. “Great. They’ve left me with the bill. Some birthday party, huh?”

  “You want me to wrap the rest of your cake?” he asked.

  “No thanks. Can you take it into the kitchen and see if anybody else wants a slice? I’m not going home and I’m afraid it won’t keep.” She slipped several twenty-dollar bills into the leather binder before handing it to him. “Here, it’s good to go.”

  Mark put the binder into his apron pocket, balancing the cake on his shoulder. “Thank you. And happy birthday.”

  “Thank you. I’ll wait outside for my taxi.”

  Anna slid the small gift from Gretchen into her handbag, tucked the bulky black case under her arm, and left the posh brewery. The street was quiet, the night cool for late August. She shivered and pulled the collar of her blouse closed, hunching her shoulders. At least the air was fresh, not filled with grease smoke like the bar. Within minutes, a car pulled along the curb and the driver leaned out the car window. “Did you call for a taxi?”

  Anna stepped off the curb. “Yes, thanks.”

  The intruder lifted the window, and when it squeaked, he pulled out a small can of lubricant, spraying it along the tracks. The bathroom window slid up and down without a sound. Next, he spread a washcloth on the side of the sink, and from his jacket pocket, withdrew a yellow paper packet, secured with a rubber band. He placed it on the cloth and rolled it into a tube, taking care that the edge of the packet stuck out. His nostrils flared at the faint aroma of tobacco.

  He stuffed the roll into sill, propping the window open. He surveyed the tableau, double-checking the bathtub, the candles on the floor next to the wall, and the towels draped over the bar. All was ready.

  Alerted by the laughter outside, he retreated to the back of the house and slipped out the kitchen door. Seconds later, the women approached the old Victorian home. He leaned against the side of the house and removed his thin black gloves, listening to hushed voices as someone fumbled a house key into the lock. After the front door shut, he crept along the side of the house watching through the gauze-curtained windows as shadows moved first into the foyer, then to the living room, switching lights on along the way.

  Adrenaline surged through his body. It thrilled him to stand on one side of a wall while his pretty prey stood on the other.

  A figure stood in front of the television, turned it on and changed channels before settling on a music video station. Like a metronome, the dull thump of the bass kept time with the pulse in his forehead. He crossed the street, opened the door of dark, nondescript car, and settled behind the wheel to wait.

  Chapter Two

  Using her key, Anna let herself into the silent, dark house. Without turning on the lights, she locked the front door’s deadbolt. After climbing the stairs, she paused at the top and listened to her father’s soft snores. She went into her old bedroom and put her handbag on the dresser. She decided to take a quick shower, not wanting to smell of smoke and deep-fryer grease longer than necessary. She pulled a pair of sweatpants and a small T-shirt out of the dresser drawer before entering her personal bathroom.

  In the shower, steam enveloped her. The small room filled with the scent of citrus shampoo as she lathered and rinsed her long hair. She squeezed shampoo onto a cloth and washed her body.

  After toweling dry, she slipped into the clean clothes. She found an ancient jar of moisturizer and slathered it on her face and elbows. Without a dryer, her hair morphed into curly waves instead of her preferred straight style. As she brushed her teeth with her finger and a bit of paste, she made a mental note to buy soap and new toiletries.

  Smirking at her reflection in the clouded mirror, she recalled her friend’s sweet, yet half-assed, attempt to celebrate her birthday. To top it off, they stuck her with the bill.

  She opened her bedroom door and stumbled over Fred, the family’s aging Golden Retriever. The lazy sentinel recognized her upon entry and was content to doze outside the door until she opened it.

  “Hey, big boy! Did you miss me?” She crouched and fluffed his fur, scratching his belly when he rolled over. “Yes, you did, didn’t you, Freddie boy.”

  The dog’s large tail thumped against the carpeted floor, and he stretched and groaned in appreciation. Anna stroked his soft ears before heading for her father’s bedroom door. Although it was midnight, Anna knew she could knock, and he would be alert, although he slept like a rock through normal noises such as doors opening and closing, showers turning on and off, and toilets flushing.

  “Papa.” Anna called softly.

  “What … Anna, is that you?”

  She opened the door a few inches waiting for his invitation.

  “Come on in, sweetheart. Happy birthday,” he said, struggling into a sitting position, before he leaned against the headboard. James Braddock Johnson patted the covers. “Have a seat.”

  Anna sat in her usual spot at the foot of the bed. It was a large, lonely bed since her mother had died. With a grunt, Fred bounced onto the mattress, stretching out next to her. She crossed her legs and raked the dog’s long, furry tail. Fred groaned his content.

  “How’s work? Are you getting many assignments?” James asked.

  “Yes. I’m not crazy about working for a newspaper, but it’s part-time. There’s not a lot of creativity in it, you know what I mean?”