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March has come in warm but windy,
yet so much better than our February. And for those in the US, it brings with
it March Madness, the annual NCAA men’s basketball scuffle to determine the
national champion. Even those who never played the game usually have a favorite
team and fill out brackets with friends; brackets that often run amuck after
the first round as top seeded teams get upset before they really get started.
When I started writing “A Game of
Love” and realized it started in March, I couldn’t help but add a little bit of
basketball madness, even though my main character, Megan, has no interest in
the sport. She’s much more interested in her best friend’s older brother, and is
soon entangled in romance, until a murder rather disrupts things. If that isn’t
bad enough, she has to contend with a ghost who has chosen her to haunt.
Enjoy the opening chapter of “A Game
of Love”, a contemporary romance revolving around the history of Boston, a
cyber treasure hunt and a two hundred year ghost longing to find her lover.
***
Megan tilted her
head back as far as she could, and still the chimneys of the three story
mansion were hidden from view. It stood separate and majestic among the brick
row houses in the heart of Beacon Hill. More than two hundred years ago, it had
been the only house at the very edge of Boston by the Charles River; home to a
tea merchant during the Revolutionary War.
Stacy, her best
friend since grade school, actually lived here now. When they were young they
had called it the Castle and had
often pretended a prince would ride up on his white horse and carry them away.
Even now when she had outgrown childhood fantasies, Megan felt the house held
secrets lost to time.
The wrap-around porch and tall front
columns were painted a dark cinnamon red to blend with the brick. Comfortable
wicker chairs graced both sides of the door, their cushions covered in bright
flowered fabric that coordinated nicely with the rest of the furniture. Stacy,
or more likely her mom, had redecorated since her last visit. All along the
front were the rose bushes for which the Castle,
actually named the Blue Rose Bed &
Breakfast, was famous.
The wind picked up,
blowing her hair across her face and sending a shiver down her spine. March in
Boston was not yet time for roses. Though there was no snow on the ground, it still
felt like winter. She hurried up the steps to get out of the wind just as the door
opened.
“Megan!” Stacy’s exuberant
hug nearly knocked her over, which was hard to do given Megan stood six foot
tall in her stocking feet. “Come in; come in!” She grabbed Megan by the coat
and practically dragged her into the house.
“My suitcase.”
Megan turned back but Stacy snagged it and rolled it inside, closing the door
with a slam.
Stacy, only five foot
two, with blonde hair and blue eyes, had always reminded Megan of Tinker Bell.
Even more so now as she fluttered around. “I am so excited you’re here.”
“I can tell.”
Megan shrugged out of her coat and automatically turned to hang it on the coat
rack to the left of the door.
“There’s just so
much going on,” Stacy continued. “After a rather slow winter, the Castle is starting to fill up on weekends,
and the summer months are practically all booked. But all that can wait. Come
on back to the kitchen so we can talk while I make a few appetizers for happy
hour.”
Stacy turned and
Megan followed, the Bed & Breakfast as familiar as her own home. A wide staircase
ran along the right side of the hall up to the second then third floors. When
they were little, Stacy’s bedroom had been upstairs along with her parents’,
and her two brothers had shared the huge loft on the third floor. After
everyone had grown and left, her parents had converted their home to a Bed
& Breakfast, adding bathrooms and dividing the loft into two airy suites.
When her parents retired and moved to Arizona, Stacy had used their room as
another suite and had moved to the basement, which was just as roomy and well-appointed
as the rest of the house.
Immediately to the
left of the entryway was a small library with a desk and computer, complete
with Wi-Fi connections. It allowed guests a little privacy and quiet. Next was
a sitting room, open to the guests and housing a big screen TV and several
sitting areas. Megan remembered the winter Stacy’s parents had taken out the
wall between that and the dining room, opening the space to accommodate more
guests when needed.
Now they cut
through the dining room and around the table, easily able to seat twenty. The
table held a pretty arrangement of foliage, complementing the dark wood of the
buffet and sideboard. Their childhood nickname of the Castle was totally appropriate given the size of the house itself,
full of antique furniture and gilt trimmed pictures. The spacious gardens to
the back, complete with gazebo, added to its appeal. And everything was
spotless.
She followed Stacy
through the half door into the kitchen. This was the one room of the house that
had been completely modernized. State of the art appliances included a sub-zero
refrigerator, six burner range and two ovens. Here, too, everything gleamed and
the scent of rich coffee filled the air.
“How do you keep
up with all this?” Megan asked.
“Sheesh, it’s not
like I do it,” Stacy saucily replied as she reached above the counter and
grabbed two coffee mugs. “You know how much I like housework.” She handed Megan
a cup and spoon then turned and grabbed a bottle of creamer from the fridge.
Megan laughed as
she poured a goodly amount of creamer into her coffee and stirred. “If I
remember right, your mom always made you keep your door closed, even if there
wasn’t any company. And she didn’t even venture to the loft where Cal and Jeff
slept.”
Stacy’s voice was
muffled, head buried in the refrigerator. “I hate to say it, but we never
changed. At least Cal and Jeff moved out after college.” She pulled out a tray
of cheese and salami, and another of pickles, tiny carrots and olives, setting
them on the counter in front of Megan.
She automatically
reached for a black olive, munching slowly; hoping having her mouth full would
keep her from asking about Cal, Stacy’s oldest brother and Megan’s teenage
crush.
Stacy dumped a
tube of fancy crackers into a pottery bowl that was lined with a pretty
embroidered napkin. “Help yourself.” She shoved everything closer. “I know they
don’t feed you on airplanes anymore and,” she paused, glancing at the clock,
“what time did you leave California?”
Megan groaned.
“Seven this morning. Even with the plane changes in Denver and Chicago, there
wasn’t enough time to grab anything.” Stacking salami and cheese on a cracker,
she munched happily as Stacy continued her preparations.
“You haven’t
started serving all meals, have you?” she asked.
Stacy shook her head.
“Just breakfast, but not long ago I started having happy hour. Most of our
guests come back from their meanderings around four or five to change before
they go out for the evening. Well, at least in the summer that seems to be the
pattern. Right now, the three registered couples told me they had late lunches
while they were out sightseeing. So now, they’re probably in for the night.
They seem to enjoy having a little snack and a glass of wine.”
She cocked her
head to the side, and when Megan listened, she heard the television and a lot
of yelling. Stacy smiled. “I dare say the ladies weren’t as ready to return as
the guys.”
Megan sent her a
questioning look.
Stacy sighed. “Honestly,
Meggie. March Madness; college basketball?”
Megan shrugged.
“I can’t believe
you have lived this long; especially hanging around here with Cal and Jeff, and
have no head for sports.”
“I did watch the
Super Bowl this year,” Megan replied defensively.
“Only because you
were on a date, as I recall from our texting.” She raised a brow as only she
could. “How is Brad, by the way?”
Megan snagged
another piece of salami. “I wouldn’t know. The Super Bowl marked not only the
beginning and end of my foray into sports, but the end of our relationship, if you
could even call it that.” She had dated Brad for six months and finally asked
herself why? She decided that was
enough.
“And you never
called?” Stacy grabbed two of the plates and swept around the counter. “Hold
that thought; I’ll be right back.” Megan thought to help, so picked up the
cracker bowl and followed Stacy into the dining room.
“Hi, everyone.
This is my good friend, Megan.” Stacy waved in her direction and Megan nodded
in recognition of the “hellos” from the couples sitting in the adjacent room.
“Here’s the wine. Please help yourself, but no throwing things at the TV. It’s
only a game.”
“Only a game?” One
of the guys echoed. “First time in years Iowa made it to the sweet sixteen.”
“But you’re from
Chicago,” Stacy replied.
“I know, but I
thought about going to school in Iowa.” He grinned as he stacked some of the
snacks onto a plate and grabbed a napkin. A yell from his friends had him
hurrying back to the TV.
“They’re good for
now. Come on,” Stacy said as she went back into the kitchen, closing the top of
the half door so they could talk in peace.
“You still like
doing this, don’t you?” Megan could tell her friend enjoyed her role as
hostess, as she had when her folks first opened their home to strangers.
“I love it, but
don’t think you can change the subject so easily. What happened with Brad?”
Megan sipped her
coffee before answering. “There was just no spark.”
“But he was a
doctor,” Stacy exclaimed. “We were always going to marry doctors or lawyers, or
international celebrities, remember?”
“Yes and here we
are. You as the very congenial hostess of a very successful B&B, and me…” Her
voice trailed off.
Her friend reached
across the counter, her small hand covering Megan’s. “What is it, Meggie? You
said when you left Boston after college that you’d never come back. Yet here
you are.”
Megan scrunched up
her face. Her parents had died when she was a teen. There had just been nothing
here for her. But now, when push came to shove, the Castle was the only place she had to go.
“I quit my job,”
she said. “Or rather, my job quit me.”
Stacy squeezed her
hand, then spun around. “This calls for more than coffee.” She grabbed a bottle
from the cupboard and two shot glasses from another. Quickly she poured two
shots, held one up and nodded to Megan to get the other.
Only Stacy, Megan thought, picking up the shot
glass, tapping it against Stacy’s and downing the clear liquid.
“God!” She gasped
as liquid fire raced down her throat, hitting her near empty stomach with a
splash. She nearly dropped the glass onto the counter.
“It gets better,”
Stacy said as she poured them each another shot. “Bottoms up.” When Megan
didn’t immediately pick up her glass, Stacy added the inevitable, “Dare you.”
She had no choice,
and licked her lips after downing the shot, the peachy flavor lingering. When
Stacy started to pour a third round, Megan put her hand over the glass. “No
more; not until I get something more than crackers in my stomach. Besides,
aren’t you on duty?”
Stacy shrugged.
“Not really. I serve an evening snack as a little plus, so it’s not like they
expect any special service. Actually we could go downstairs, but let me fix you
some dinner first.”
“No, you don’t
have to do that. Just no more shots.” Megan turned the bottle around. “Cruzan peach
rum?”
“Who’s drinking
that sissy stuff?” A deep voice came from the back porch just as the door
opened. A tingle of awareness raced up Megan’s spine. She didn’t have to see
his face to know it was Cal. A tall frame filled the doorway as he shrugged off
his jacket.
His voice had always drawn her; deep and
gravelly and totally seductive. She hadn’t seen Stacy’s brother since high
school, and his gangly but athletic high school physique had certainly filled
out in the years since. As her heart thudded erratically, she thought some
things never changed. The crush she had all those years ago still morphed her
back into a tongue-tied teenager.
“Well, well. If it
isn’t little Megan Sue, the fourth but unacknowledged Garrett kid. Hey, sis.” He actually ruffled his sister’s hair as he
headed for the sink, his back now to Megan.
Which was just as
well because she knew she was staring. Cal had been good looking in high
school, but now he was devastatingly handsome. Completely opposite of Stacy’s
fair complexion and blonde features, Cal’s hair was darkest brown, wavy and
just to the shaggy side of too long. Broad shoulders tapered down to a trim
waist. Tight jeans covered a butt that was…oh, so fine. The glimpse she had
gotten of his face was all she had needed to fully recall his dark eyes, high
cheek bones and strong chin, covered with dark stubble that was so sexy
nowadays.
“Megan?” Stacy’s
voice broke through her reverie. Megan swallowed and forced her gaze from Cal’s
back. It was the one secret she had from Stacy, because how could she ever tell
her best friend that she had the hots for her brother for the past fifteen years?
“What made you
bring out the hard stuff, Stac?” Having dried his hands and tossed the towel aside,
Cal turned around to lean against the counter, long legs crossed at the ankles
and arms crossed over his chest. He was casually dressed in jeans and a button
down shirt, and while his pose might appear just as relaxed, Megan knew he was always
watchful.
“Megan quit her
job,” Stacy began, and Megan couldn’t see correcting her.
With a harrumph, Cal reached over Stacy’s head
to the liquor cabinet and pulled down a different bottle. “Then you should be
drinking this.” He quickly poured shots, raised his in salute and downed it.
Megan lifted hers to delicately sniff.
“No way.” She set
it back down. When Stacy shot her a questioning look, she added, “Do you
remember the last time we drank tequila?”
Cal laughed when
Stacy smacked him in the chest with her hand. “She just got here, Cal, don’t be
chasing her away so fast. Besides, what are you even doing here? Aren’t you on
duty?”
“It was quitting
time so I just thought I’d stop by and see you.” He gave her a grin that would
stop the heartbeat of most women, but his sister was immune.
“In other words,
you didn’t bother going to the grocery story this week.” She just shook her
head and rummaged in the refrigerator, coming up with a package of pork chops.
“I was planning on Jeff, but he at least called to say he had other plans, so
there should be enough for your hollow leg.” She began grabbing spices from the
side cupboard and rubbing some into the meat. “But you have to start the grill
and cook,” she added.
Cal gave Megan a casual
wink before stepping through the door onto the back deck. Megan wished it had
been Jeff coming over. Although the brothers looked extremely alike, Jeff was
just three years older than she, whereas Cal was five. Megan didn’t know if it
was the age difference or what, but Jeff had simply been her friend, whereas
Cal had been her fantasy. Now, she had reservations as to whether moving back
to Boston had been such a great idea.
***
For a complete copy of “A Game of Love, click the link
below the picture or visit my website at http://www.authorsden.com/barbarajbaldwin or my Amazon author site at https://www.amazon.com/author/barbarabaldwin.
You will find not only this book, but others including historical and time
travel romance.
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