Read, Write, Love (Love in Bloom: The Remingtons, Book 5) Contemporary Romance by Melissa Foster Page B

when we met, but every summer I’d spend a few hours a week with him at the flea market, and I really came to love him. Like a grandfather, you know? He told me stories about his family, and when he spoke of making jam…” She shook her head, remembering the look in Al’s eyes. “The way he looked, his eyes. It was like making jam was the most romantic thing in the world.” She ran her finger along his forearm, tracing a vein. “He died last winter, but before he passed, he called me and shared his recipes, and I don’t know. Everything came together in my heart. I knew I wanted to do the same thing. It only made sense to do it here, you know, to honor him?”
    He cupped her cheek, his eyes laden with compassion. “Leanna, that’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. Do you miss your friend?”
    No one had thought to ask her that, and she had to swallow past a growing lump in her throat. “Yeah. I do. This summer is the first summer he hasn’t been here, and I find myself looking for him sometimes. You must think I’m weird.” She looked down at the blanket, and he lifted her chin with his finger and drew her eyes back to his.
    “Not even close. I think you’re smart, and kind, and funny, and…special in the very best way.”
    She felt her cheeks flush. “I’m not. I’m just trying to find something…”
    “Are you fulfilled?” He searched her eyes.
    She inhaled deeply before answering, letting the salty sea air fill her lungs. “I guess I don’t know. I always feel like I want to do more.”
    “Me too. I always want to do more. I want to write more, write differently, take my readers to new places. Do you want to take your business to another level? Try new things with it? New flavors? Travel more? Or do something else altogether?”
    She shrugged, which she knew wasn’t an answer at all. “I never really overthink things. I want to enjoy my job. I want to love it, actually, but I also love life so much. All of it, from the yucky parts to the good parts. I hope to one day find something that fits that part of my personality. I’m enjoying the jam business so much, and the flea markets, that I’m kind of hoping this feeling remains. I just wish I could know for sure now.” Pepper inched up beside them and put his head on Kurt’s leg. Kurt’s eyes never wavered from her.
    “Is there some reason you are putting so much pressure on yourself? I can see you’re a little stressed over this. Do you have a career deadline?”
    She laughed. “A career deadline? No, but I’m almost thirty. Shouldn’t I know what I want to do?”
    He kissed her softly, and she nearly melted into him.
    “My mother would say that no two people are the same and not to compare yourself to what others think you should be like.”
    Kurt’s voice—and his words—soothed the rough edges of the pressure she had been putting on herself. He made her feel better about her inability to commit to a career.
    “So you don’t think I’m a hopeless, reckless, nightmare?”
    He smiled. “Wow. All those things and a train wreck? No. You seem like you’re very passionate, and you just haven’t figured out where to direct your energies yet. You’ll figure it out.” He shrugged. “Or you won’t, and if you don’t, you’ll have spent your life doing all sorts of things along the way that you, hopefully, enjoyed, so will it really matter?”
    He leaned in closer, and she could barely breathe. He wasn’t judging her. He wasn’t telling her all the reasons she needed to make a career choice. Him of all people. Kurt Remington. The man who knew exactly what he wanted—the man who was slowly stealing little pieces of her heart.
    “The truth is, most people spend more time with their jobs than they do with their spouses, so if you don’t enjoy it, you’ll…divorce it.” His voice grew serious. “Life’s too short to stay married to a career you hate. You’re probably smarter than half the people out there who are