Dreams for Tomorrow Read online

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  EPILOGUE

  DREAMS FOR TOMORROW

  A Serenity Bay Novella

  Book 2

  By

  DANNI ROSE

  Copyright

  ©2017 Danni Rose

  Dreams for Tomorrow

  First Digital Edition

  ISBN: 978-0-9971836-2-7

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be resold, reproduced, given away, or quoted (except in reviews) without the written permission of the author. If you're reading this book, and it was not purchased for your use, please consider buying a copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of authors everywhere. To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, please contact the author at:

  [email protected]

  The characters and settings are figments of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual people or events is coincidental and unintended. This is a work of fiction.

  Published by: Danni Rose

  Cover by: Jaycee Delorenzo

  Sweet 'n Spicy Designs

  Edited by: The Killion Group, Inc.

  Thank you to my friends and family who don't call me crazy when I discuss my characters' lives, loves, and problems.

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  EPILOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  The sway of that luscious ass captivated him. When her hips swung to push the door open, the eggs he held slipped from his fingers. He looked at the bright splashes of yellow on the black tire floor and rolled his eyes. Damn.

  "Hey, boss, everything okay?" Jesse grinned.

  "Yeah." Mason grabbed a handful of paper towels. "Sure."

  "Lusting after our resident accountant?"

  Mason Reed, owner and chef of the River Inn Bed-and-Breakfast and its restaurant, Raison D'être, stared at the door Amber Fuller went through. As usual, he wanted to lose himself in her golden-brown, kewpie doll eyes.

  In his fantasies, Mason ripped the clothes from her body and made passionate love to her. He fondled her lush breasts and delectable ass. Then he stroked every curve of her voluptuous body until she screamed his name.

  He cleared his throat. "Amber's an accountant?"

  "Almost."

  "What's an almost-accountant?" She was a distraction he couldn't allow, but that didn't stop him from wanting to know more about her. "Why is she working here?"

  "She graduated from college with an accounting degree but needs to take the national exam to become a certified public accountant. In the meantime, she works two jobs to pay for school."

  "I'm impressed." Mason' brow furrowed. "We went to the same high school. She was smart and pretty, but now—wow."

  Jesse grinned and took the towels. "I'll clean up the mess. Table five needs their first course."

  "Huh? Oh, okay." Mason washed his hands before preparing one of his favorite salads, orzo with sun-dried tomatoes and kalamata olives. As he worked, he recited the words of his mantra.

  Make the Inn profitable. Prove Dad wrong. Plan tomorrow's menu.

  Mason had worked hard and built a reputation for the restaurant. It had reservations booked eighteen months in advance. The problem was the bed-and-breakfast wasn't doing as well, and he used the Raison D'être profits to pay its expenses.

  He needed help. His idea of marketing was placing an ad in the paper, but it was the bookkeeping that gave him the biggest headache. His method for tracking expenses and income was to toss receipts, checks, and bills in a shoe box. As an almost-accountant, would Amber consider taking on the job of organizing his finances?

  Tomorrow, he'd ask for her. That left only one problem. How was he supposed to control his lust for the woman who starred in his sexual fantasies?

  Tuesday morning, Mason mixed the ingredients for the pesto chicken he intended to serve for lunch. As he worked, he heard the door open. He looked up to see Amber walk into the kitchen.

  She smiled. "Good morning."

  "Hello, Sunshine." He smiled. "I was wondering, would you have lunch with me?"

  Amber asked, "Me?"

  "Yes, you."

  "I don't know—"

  "We'll have the pesto chicken breasts and the best tiramisu in northern Minnesota."

  "I love tiramisu."

  "Good. I'll meet you here after the lunch guests leave. We'll go to The Mill."

  "The old mill down by the river?"

  "I had it renovated, named it The Mill, and live there. We can eat on the deck. It has an amazing view of the river."

  "I love to see it." Amber pointed to the employee's room. "I need to store my things before I set up for lunch."

  "Okay. We'll talk later." As she walked to the back room, Mason watched the roll of her hips. His mouth was dry as the desert in August. He blew a silent whistle and got back to stuffing the chicken breasts.

  After the staff served the main course, Mason walked through the dining room chatting with the guests. He received many compliments for the meal and requests for recipes. "I got the recipes from my grandmother. She threatened to haunt me if I shared them."

  While the guests enjoyed dessert and espresso, Mason completed the preparation work for dinner. By the time Amber returned to the kitchen, he was ready to leave. He grabbed the picnic basket he'd packed and led her out the kitchen door.

  As they made their way along the sloping stone walk, Amber asked, "Why do you live in the mill rather than the Inn?"

  "I love the Inn but want a place of my own. Besides, I didn't want to leave the old place empty. It's an incredible structure with marvelous views of the river and forest."

  "So, you created a retreat."

  Amber walked into the cottage, and Mason smiled when she gasped. Then he waited for her reaction.

  He loved the brick and weathered wood. When he'd had the mill converted into a home, he'd wanted to keep as much of the original construction as possible. The contractors who did the remodeling specialized in restoring older homes. Maintaining the character of the structure was a priority. The contractors jumped on the chance to do this project and did an excellent job.

  She said, "This is unbelievable. So, this is the original wood and brick?"

  "Yeah. The contractors refinished the floors. Then they cleaned and repaired the brick."

  "What's upstairs?

  "Three bedrooms and a nook. All the rooms are large, but the contractors renovated only half the available space."

  "You've preserved the character of the mill while creating a comfortable, charming home." She looked around the room and pointed to the oak ceiling beams. "Those are fantastic. Do I detect the work of the Howard brothers?"

  "Yup. The project intrigued them. As renovators, they made a few changes to the original structure by adding the cathedral style windows facing the river and remodeling the kitchen. I'll give you a complete tour another day when we have more time." He took her arm. "The deck is this way."

  "That view is breathtaking." She pressed a hand to her heart. "Pictures of it would make lovely postcard
s."

  Mason smiled at Amber's reaction. "True, but I'm selfish. I don't want to share this with tourists." He winked. "This is my personal slice of heaven."

  "Thank you for sharing it with me."

  He tipped his head. "Let's eat."

  Mason watched her walk to the table and bite back a moan. The lusciousness of her body threatened to knock him to his knees. Her figure had the kind of curves he preferred on a woman. Her body filled his mind with thoughts of making hot, sweaty love until they were so tired they fell asleep.

  "Why did you invite me to lunch?"

  He jerked. "What?"

  "Why did you invite me to lunch?"

  "Well, uh…"

  She sat back and crossed her arms. "Are you firing me?"

  "No! You're an excellent employee, and we're lucky to have you."

  "Then why did you want to talk to me?"

  "I have a problem, and I'm hoping you can help solve it."

  "Okay?"

  "Don't let your food get cold." Mason rubbed the back of his neck. "I'll talk while you eat."

  After Amber took a bite, he asked, "Do you like it?"

  "It's delicious."

  "I have a trust fund that my father controls until I'm thirty-five. I wanted some of the money to open the bed-and-breakfast and restaurant. Dad didn't approve of my decision, but he finally agreed to let me withdraw some money. Then he gave me two years to make a profit. If I don't succeed, I have to return to the job at his investment firm or lose my trust fund. I have one year left."

  Amber said, "Raison D'être is fully booked for every lunch and dinner for the next year and a half, and there's a waitlist. You must be profitable."

  "The restaurant is making money, but the bed-and-breakfast is struggling."

  "How bad is it?"

  "I don't know."

  "What do you mean?"

  Mason rubbed his forehead. "I enjoy the challenge of managing the Inn, cooking meals, and talking with guests, but I don't like dealing with finances and marketing. So, I avoid working on them."

  "But they're important parts of owning a business."

  "I know, but they're not the parts I want to spend my time doing."

  "Huh." She pursed her lips. "So you haven't paid attention to the numbers."

  "No. But my time is running out. If the Inn is losing money, I can't afford to ignore the problem any longer."

  "You need to know if you're making or losing money."

  Mason nodded. "I planned to hire an accountant to handle the books, but the records are a mess. I'm embarrassed to let anyone see them. I heard you have a degree in accounting and wonder if you'd organize my files."

  "What software do you use to track your finances?"

  "I use a spreadsheet, but there must be an easier way to manage the information."

  "A good accounting program could track your expenses and income, and most programs have easy to create reports. I can transfer your computer spreadsheet into the program. You'll be able to create the reports you need to figure out if the business is profitable."

  "It's not on the computer."

  "What?"

  "The spreadsheet—it's in a notebook."

  She put a hand over her mouth and stared at him. "The information is on paper?"

  He squirmed.

  "Do you have a computer?"

  "Yes. I use it to find recipes." He grinned.

  "Recipes?" Amber bit her bottom lip, but he could see the smile she fought. She cleared her throat. "Are you willing to buy an accounting program and learn to use the computer to manage the accounts?"

  "If it will help me figure out if the business is profitable, I'll get whatever you need."

  "How soon do you want this project completed?"

  "After you look at my records, we can talk about how long it will take, and how much I should pay you."

  "I'll want to keep my job in the restaurant. Since I don't start until ten-thirty, I can work on the books at home. Using my laptop computer, I can set up the accounts and enter the information. After the income and expenses are in the program, I'll transfer it to your computer and teach you how to create reports." Amber tipped her head. "Will that work for you?"

  "That sounds like a great plan."

  "How soon can I see the records?"

  "Are you free this evening? You can come to The Mill, and I'll show you my papers." His face grew hot from his embarrassment. "You have to promise not to laugh."

  "As long as the receipts aren't in shoe boxes, I should be able to control myself." Amber grinned.

  "They aren't shoe boxes." Mason's face heated. "I can tell you which side dishes go best with orange glazed duck, but maintaining the books sends shivers of dread down my spine. If you promise not to tell anyone, I'll tell you a secret."

  "You can trust me."

  "I came within a half point of failing my accounting class."

  The joy in Amber's laughter made him smile.

  Mason checked his watch. "I have to get back to the kitchen."

  "I'll help you clear."

  Returning to the Inn, Mason walked behind Amber. Her swaying hips had his cock stiffening. He wanted to nibble her sweet mouth until her blood ran hot, then he'd slide his tongue over her skin until he reached her center. Once there, he'd tease and torment until the juice ran down her thighs. Then he'd use his hands and mouth to make love to her until she begged for satisfaction.

  They went into the kitchen, and he said, "I'll see you this evening."

  "Huh? Oh. Right." Amber left the kitchen. Her short, spiked brown hair looked as though she'd just gotten out of bed after making love. He would reveal every secret recipe for a chance to feast on her lush body.

  "Boss, you'll catch flies if you don't close your mouth." Jesse slapped him on the back and laughed.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Amber straightened her blouse before lifting her hand, but Mason pulled the door open before she could knock.

  "Hello. Thanks for coming."

  "I couldn't wait to see the shoe boxes." It wasn't the boxes that brought her here tonight. This was her chance to spend time with Mason. In high school, he'd never noticed her, but she had watched him. After he returned to town, she'd been stunned. The cute boy had grown into a man with drop-dead good looks. "I saw the sign over the door. The Mill?"

  "I didn't want to forget the history of this building. Having his own business, the mill, was my Grandfather's dream." He grinned. "Would you like a glass of wine before we work?"

  "Yes, thank you. It might dull my need to laugh." He went to the kitchen, and she licked her lips when his hips rolled as he walked.

  "If only." Mason went to the kitchen.

  Amber love his house. The house she rented was smaller than Mason's living room. The floor plan was an open space. The kitchen, a chef's dream, was separated from the rest of the house with a long marble-topped counter. Next to the kitchen was an oak dining table with a stunning wrought iron chandelier hanging over it. The living area was huge with an enormous field rock fireplace. Behind that wall was an office.

  The furniture complemented the home. He'd used wood, wrought iron, and leather to create a comfortable atmosphere. She ran her hand over the sofa and chairs. They were a buffed leather and felt soft as butter. Thinking of lying naked on the couch sent shivers down her spine.

  Amber went to the windows overlooking the river. The moon's light created a magical setting for the stars that sparkled in the sky as bright as diamonds. She watched a shooting star race across the darkness, closed her eyes, and made a wish. Bring my love to me.

  Mason spoke from behind her. "I love the sky at night. You won't see this in New York."

  The rasp of his voice sent heat streaking through her body and pooling in her center. She cleared her throat, then said, "True, but New York has wonders that you can't find in Serenity Bay."

  He handed her a glass. "I didn't ask if you preferred white or red wine. This is a Riesling, if you don't care for it, I can get
you something else."

  "I prefer white wines." She took a drink. "This is excellent."

  Mason motioned her to the sofa before asking, "Why did you go into accounting?"

  Amber swallowed. How much should I tell him? "I know it's not exciting, but I enjoy working with numbers. They're easy to understand, and there's an answer to every question. Math doesn't confuse me the way people do."

  "People are complicated, but that makes them interesting and mysterious."

  "If you say so." She shrugged. "I think accounting is something you either love or hate. To love it, a person needs to have a high level of geekiness."

  "And you have the amount needed?"

  "I'm a geek and have the pocket protector to prove it."

  When Mason laughed, Amber did too. She hadn't felt this light-hearted in a long time. While she'd been earning her degree, her life had been studying and working. Her schedule didn't leave time for socializing or sitting by the river watching the night sky. She'd forgotten how comforting a peaceful night could be.

  Mason stood. "I'll be back in a minute."

  Amber watched him. The man looked good coming and going. For a moment she closed her eyes. She wasn't here to admire his body. I'm here for a job that will pay for my move to New York. It would be easier if Mason weren't so easy to talk to, or if he had a mole on the end of his nose. She took a long drink of wine. Instead, he was sex on a stick, and she wanted to lick him from bottom to top.

  A minute later, Mason returned carrying two plastic bins. "In these boxes is every bit of financial information I have for the business. I've kept every receipt, invoice, and check stub for the house's renovation and every purchase for the restaurant or bed-and-breakfast."

  "Those are bigger than shoe boxes."

  "Yeah." Mason turned a bright pink.

  "There's no reason for embarrassment. If everyone kept their financial records organized, accountants would be out of work. As an almost-accountant, let me thank you for keeping us employed."

  His lips curled into a sheepish smile as he set the plastic boxes on the coffee table. When he sat next to Amber, the heat from his body wrapped her in warmth. Stop. No lusting for your boss.