Barefoot Bay: A Mimosa Key Christmas (Kindle Worlds Novella) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Text copyright ©2016 by the Author.

  This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Roxanne St. Claire. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Barefoot Bay remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Roxanne St. Claire, or their affiliates or licensors.

  For more information on Kindle Worlds: http://www.amazon.com/kindleworlds

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter One

  "Christmas sucks."

  "Jacob!" Jenni Marshall glanced up into the rear view mirror and caught her thirteen-year-old son's eye. "Seriously?"

  "Sorry, but it does." He shrugged. "You know it, and I know it." Without waiting for a response, he stuck his ear buds into his ears, quite effectively ending the conversation.

  Jenni returned her gaze to the road in front of her. She objected to her son's language, but far more to his assessment of what should be a joyous holiday. A holiday filled with family, friends, tradition, celebrations...none of which they were partaking in this year. They were so far from their home in Maine that they didn't even have a chance in heck of a white Christmas this year. Not unless it snowed in Florida by some miracle.

  But miracles, like happy moments, had been hard to come by this year.

  While she couldn't bring herself to say that Christmas sucked, Jenni had to agree it really did stink this year. Which was precisely the reason they were heading to Florida for a quiet, low-key holiday. No snow, no family, no expectations, and no bad memories awaited them in Mimosa Key.

  Tears pricked at the back of her eyes as she remembered the last time her son had been happy at Christmas. Jacob had been eight-years-old, all arms and legs in that gangly, flat out adorable way boys that age often were. He'd still believed in Santa Claus, which hadn't surprised her at the time. He'd always been a trusting soul by nature, quick to believe the best in anybody or any situation. She glanced into the rear view mirror again. Jacob's eyes were closed as he moved his head in time to the music. She could still hear his shouts of joy when he'd discovered a set of drums wrapped with a big red bow next to the Christmas tree.

  That had been the last time their little family of three had been happy. By the time the next December rolled around, their divorce had been finalized and her ex-husband had started to fade from their life. In the ensuing five years, Jenni has more than made her peace with the swift and unexpected ending of her marriage. Watching her ex-husband move on with his life, which now included a new wife and two small children, wouldn't have bothered her except that he'd made no room for Jacob. Invitations to visit were few and far between, plans were cancelled more often than not, and weekly phone calls had dwindled down to a couple of texts a month.

  So when they'd received a semi-apologetic email a week ago saying that there'd been a last minute change of plans and her ex couldn't come up with the cash to pay for Jacob's share of his soccer team's trip to Argentina, Jenni had flipped. She'd shoved aside her pride, called her ex, and demanded to know just what was so important that he'd been willing to disappoint his oldest son. The answer was heartbreaking - a great last minute deal on cruise to Bermuda. 'But we've only booked one cabin and you know how small those are, right, Jenni? I'm sure Jacob will understand'.

  Understand? Understand what? That a frou-frou vacation with his new family was more important than keeping his word to his own flesh and blood? Her blood had come to a near boiling point and she'd ranted and raved like a mad woman over a bottle of wine with her best friend for far longer than she should have. But well before Jacob had come home from soccer practice, she'd gotten herself in check, opened her laptop, and scrambled to find a place where she could take her son so that they could make memories that didn't involve the ghost of his father.

  With more than a little trepidation, she'd announced over dinner that there'd been a shake-up in plans.

  "Florida? Why Florida?" Jacob had asked, his confusion apparent by the way his brows furrowed together.

  "It's warm, for one thing," she'd answered. "It isn't exactly easy to book a last minute vacation this time of year, but it's going to be fun. You'll see."

  Fun. A happy holiday. She had a lot to deliver.

  She glanced down at the directions in her hand and then up at the mile marker. They were rapidly approaching their exit. This part of Florida was unfamiliar to her. Once, when Jacob had been six, they'd all traveled to Orlando and visited the amusement parks, but that was the extent of her experience traveling in Florida. She watched for their exit, hoping against hope that the Casa Blanca Resort and Spa was half as nice as the website had made it look.

  "Jacob," she called, having to repeat herself a couple of times to be heard above his music, "We're almost in Mimosa Key."

  The ear buds stayed in but he flashed her a grimace that she hoped was meant to be a smile. "That's nice, Mom."

  "I hope so, baby." She forced herself to smile with an enthusiasm that was nine parts make-believe and one part hope. "I think this will be our best Christmas ever."

  ***

  Micah Braxton swung his Jeep under the shade of a palm tree and switched off the engine. A quick surveillance of the strip of beach assured him it was empty. Perfect. He was in no mood for company, and the last week hanging out by himself had only furthered his resolve that he wanted peace and quiet above all else.

  He grabbed his backpack and headed out for the strip of white sand that beckoned. A bottle of sunscreen, a couple of bottled waters, a well-worn paperback thriller he'd picked up at the Fourway Motel's front desk, and a handful of snacks were all he needed for the day. Living a device-free life for the last week had proved far simpler than he'd imagined. The quiet had been blissful. No one from his life in Atlanta was able to reach him, which suited his purposes just fine. The fact he'd had to listen to his own mind second guessing his decision to quit his law practice and sell his house was one thing. But there was no way he was going to listen to a litany of family and friends second guessing his decision as well.

  He drew a beach towel out and tossed it down, not caring that it wasn't laid out completely straight. He was over his life-long obsession with precision. His time was no longer going to be billed in six-hundred-dollar an hour increments. As of right now, he didn't have to answer to anyone. He could live the life of an absolute beach bum if that's what he wanted.

  Except that this was the crux of the problem. Just what he wanted, he didn't know. He peeled off his shirt and slathered a handful of sunscreen over his torso. Beyond a quiet day with only the sound of the ocean waves rolling in, he hadn't a clue what would make him happy. Surely the fact he knew what he didn't want was a good place to start, wasn't it?

  That particular list had been years in the making. He no longer wanted to work ninety hour work weeks. He no longer wanted to represent clients with petty problems and charge them an exorbitant hourly fee. He no longer wanted to put prestige above principle, or office politics above common decency. He no longer wanted to surround himself with people who yes'd him to death. The
list of what he didn't want was long and easy to mentally draft. A vision of a new life that would make him happy, not so much.

  He lay back and crossed his arms behind his head. The warmth of the sun soon lulled his body into an intense relaxation. If only it was so easy for his mind to surrender. But he had faith he'd get there, especially if everything stayed as peaceful and quiet as it was at this exact moment.

  As if on cue, a loud thudding sound reached his ears. Someone had a flat tire. And that someone was pulling off onto the tiny bit of land that separated his stretch of peaceful beach from the road. He sighed but didn't move. Surely whoever was driving could easily call roadside assistance, and on an island as small as Mimosa Key, a tow truck would be here in record time. No need for him to get involved.

  At least that's what he thought before he heard a voice let loose a blue current of swear words that would have made any man alive blush. His lips curled up in a smile because the woman's voice stumbled over the words as if they were all new to her. Her sweet tone of voice was no match for her choice of words.

  His curiosity aroused, he sat up and held up a hand to shade his eyes so that he could better see her. When he did, his heart did a funny little flip flop. He shot to his feet, slid his feet in his sandals, and was on his way over to her car before he had time to talk himself out of it. The fact that the woman had an arresting figure, long dark hair that fell in waves around her shoulders, and the face of an angel was only a small part of the reason he was going to play Good Samaritan.

  It was almost Christmas, for crying out loud. Surely if there was a time to reach out and help a fellow traveler in need, this was it?

  Chapter Two

  "Mom, I didn't know that you could swear like that." Jacob's face broke into an uncharacteristic grin. "Cool."

  Jenni blew out a long breath to avoid letting one more inappropriate word escape her lips. She ran her hands through her hair, plaiting it into a loose French braid. She met her son's eyes across the hood of the car. "Cool isn't exactly a word I'd use to describe this situation. Forget what I said, okay?"

  Her son rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure, Mom, whatever you say. It's not like I've never heard those words before."

  "They're certainly not words you've ever heard from me." She pulled her t-shirt away from her body with the hopes it would help cool her down. She gazed down at the rear driver's side tire which was now as flat as a pancake. "Jacob, please tell me that they taught you how to fix a flat in school."

  Her son shook his head. "Sorry, Mom. But we can find a You Tube tutorial." He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and began tapping on the screen.

  Disgusted, Jenni turned her back on the traitorous car. So much for her certainty that plunking down money on a rental would be a sure bet that they'd arrive in Mimosa Key without incident. She felt a swift pang of longing for her Honda Odyssey. It might well have a hundred thousand plus miles on it, but it was familiar and comfortable. Just about now, familiar and comfortable sounded great.

  "Uh, Mom, it's a no go." Her son came around the car to stand beside her. "I can't get any reception. We're screwed."

  "Language, Jacob," Jenni said, but then winced at the irony of her words. "And I'm talking to both of us." She draped an arm across his shoulders. The poor kid. He certainly wasn't having any more fun than she was. A rush of affection washed over her as he rested his head on her shoulder. He was getting so tall that it wouldn't be long before he couldn't do that anymore. "Don't worry, I'm sure someone will be along any moment to help us."

  Just as the final words passed her lips, she caught sight of a man striding purposefully along the sand toward them. His dark hair was cut short, he wore a white t-shirt, cut off denim shorts, and dark sunglasses. His body was lean and muscled. There was something about him that left Jenni unable to say anything the first time she tried, so instead she elbowed her son.

  Jacob straightened up and looked in the direction she pointed. "Just what we need, someone without tools."

  Jenni shot him an annoyed look. "Really? I'd hardly say we're in a position to be picky right now. There certainly doesn't seem to be much traffic on this road."

  She didn't have time to say anything else because the stranger was almost upon them. Relief at seeing someone who might help mingled with a weary skepticism of a total stranger, but like she just told her son, it wasn't like she had many other options right now. She straightened as he came to a stop in front of them.

  Unlike any man she'd ever met, this one exuded a raw physical attraction that virtually created a force field around them. "Hi," was all she could manage to say.

  His smile was full of roguish charm. "Hi, yourself." He turned his attention to Jacob and nodded a greeting before he looked back at her. "Sounded like you had a bit of trouble."

  She nodded. "A flat." She ignored her son's puzzled look. Doubtless he was wondering why she'd barely been able to string together three words but she wasn't about to explain her reaction to her son. There were just some things a mother didn't share with her child, however mature he might be. She felt at a distinct disadvantage that the man facing her had sunglasses to hide his eyes. "Tire," she heard herself blurt out. "A flat tire."

  His lips lifted in a half smile. "So I see. Do you have a spare?"

  "A spare?" she repeated.

  The man's eyes darted over to Jacob, as if to call into question her mental state.

  "It's a rental, so I don't know, " Jacob said. "Let me check. Mom, can I have the keys?"

  The sound of her son's voice, so rational and calm, shook Jenni out of the temporary hormonal stupor she was in. Her unexpected reaction to the man in front of her was trumped by maternal instinct. She pulled the keys out of her pocket and handed them over before turning her attention to the stranger in front of her. "We can't get a signal. Can you make a call for us?"

  He shook his head. "Nope, sorry. I don't have a cell phone."

  Her eyebrows rose. No cell phone? In today's world, that was odd. Not to mention extremely inconvenient under the circumstances. "Can you tell us the name of a good mechanic then? In case we can pick up a signal from further down the road?"

  The stranger shook his head. "Sorry, I'm not from around here."

  "Oh, so you're on vacation?" Jenni asked.

  This time his response was a non-committal shrug. "Not exactly."

  "So where do you live if you're not on vacation and you're not from here?"

  He glanced back in the direction of the beach before he turned back to her. "For now, here."

  Before she could ask another question to clarify just what he meant by that cryptic answer, Jacob slammed the trunk and came to stand beside her. "No luck." He dropped the keys into her outstretched hand. "No spare."

  Of course there wasn't. Jenni resisted the urge to swear again. But, vacation or not, she was still a mom on duty, which meant she had to watch her language. "Okay, then here's what we'll do. We'll just start walking until we get a signal. Once we do, we'll call roadside assistance and they can call a local mechanic for us."

  "That would work," the man said, "or I could give you a lift to wherever it is you're going."

  Jenni's uncertainty must have been clear to see because the man took off his sunglasses and extended his hand. "I'm Micah Braxton."

  Jenni stared as if mesmerized. Micah Braxton's eyes were a shade of dark brown with such warmth that she had trouble looking away. Or breathing for that matter, until Jacob nudged her and gave Micah's outstretched hand a pointed look. "Right, sorry. Hello Micah." She slipped her hand into his and immediately realized that the warmth of his eyes had nothing on the warmth of his touch. She pulled her hand back. "I'm Jenni Marshall, and this is my son, Jacob."

  "Nice to meet you, Jacob."

  "Likewise," Jacob said, sounding so grown up that it pulled at Jenni's heart. But grown up sounding or not, he was still an impressionable kid which meant she couldn't accept a ride from a stranger. Doing so would fly right in the face of everything she'd
told him for years on end.

  "So, shall we grab your bags and load them into my Jeep?" Micah asked.

  Her heart hammered in her chest for reasons she did not want to acknowledge. She shook her head. "Thanks, but I'm not comfortable with accepting a ride."

  "Right, I get that." Micah said. "But you can't very well stay here by the side of the road either. So, why don't you both take my Jeep into town?"

  Jenni and her son exchanged surprised looks.

  "Seriously?" Jacob asked. "You'd just hand over your car to us?"

  "Why not?" Micah answered him. "Mimosa Key isn't a very big place, so wherever you're going, you're almost there."

  "But you don't know us," Jacob persisted.

  "True, we've strangers." Micah nodded his agreement. "But look at it this way, it's almost Christmas. Tis the season to be charitable, right?"

  This rationale apparently satisfied Jacob. "Cool," he said. "What do you say, Mom?"

  She couldn't tear her eyes from Micah's gaze. "I don't know. Won't you be stranded here until we can get the car back to you?"

  Micah's shrug was nonchalant. "I don't have any plans to go anywhere. I'll be here."

  Jenni glanced in the direction of the water. Did Mimosa Key have a very large homeless population? She couldn't see any tents or other temporary looking housing but that didn't mean it wasn't out there somewhere along the beach. The offer was generous, but it was also way outside of her comfort zone. But then, so was sitting by the side of the road hoping another stranger would come along and offer help. She bit her lip.

  "It doesn't have to be complicated, Jenni," Micah said. "People on the island are pretty friendly so you won't have any trouble finding someone from the mechanic's garage or your hotel who is willing to help you get the Jeep back out here."

  Micah Braxton, Jenni decided, was a very persuasive man. Still, she was uncertain. "How do you know you can trust us?"

  "I can't explain it, but I'm not worried." A slow smile stretched across Micah's face. "Sometimes you meet someone special and you know right away that you can trust them."