The Only One For Me

There’s no mistaking the real thing

Everything in Corra Coleman’s world is looking up since she agreed to run the gift shop at her family’s antebellum B and B. The job offers a fresh start after her unhappy marriage—and a tantalizing temptation in the form of tech millionaire Christopher Williams. Her brother’s high-school buddy has come home to their small Kentucky town and is now pursuing her with a passion she’s never known, but definitely reciprocates.

Though he grew up poor, Chris has realized his childhood ambition of becoming one of Danville’s wealthiest sons. As he restores the town’s oldest mansion, he already knows who he wants to share it with. Corra is all grown up—gorgeous, warmhearted and no longer off-limits. But with her newly returned ex trying to win her back, can Chris show her the way love’s truly supposed to be?

Corra took a bite of the cake and closed her eyes. When she licked the remaining icing from her lips, he wanted to reach over and help her out.

“Mmm, this is so good, and moist.” Then she took a sip of wine.

Chris did the same.

After a few minutes of talking and eating, he noticed chocolate on Corra’s lip.

He leaned closer to her. “You’ve got something right there,” he said, before licking the speck of chocolate from her bottom lip.

Corra smiled. “Did you really just do that? That was a movie move if I’ve ever seen one.”

“Not original enough for you, huh?”

She laughed. “Not quite. Why don’t you try something like this?” Corra leaned over and grabbed him by the collar. “Let’s see what your cake tastes like.”

The moment her mouth met his, warmth flooded his body and the desire to take her became an overpowering need. He wanted her closer.

Dear Reader,

Thank you so much for purchasing The Only One for Me, the second book in the Coleman House series. I hope you’ll enjoy reading Corra and Christopher’s story. Coleman House is a series near and dear to my heart. While riding through the countryside in Kentucky I saw this massive house that reminded me of Tara from Gone with the Wind. My curiosity about who lived there took over, and my own experience at a B and B fueled the rest. Running both an organic farm and a B and B is hard work. Nobody knows that better than the Colemans.

To learn more about me and future releases, please sign up for my newsletter at www.bridgetanderson.net. I love to connect with readers, so follow me on Twitter, @Banders319, or www.Facebook.com/Banders319. I appreciate all reviews. Please take the time to leave one.

Thank you,

Bridget Anderson

The Only One for Me

Bridget Anderson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

BRIDGET ANDERSON writes provocative stories about smart women and the men they love. She has over nine published novels and two novellas to date. Her romance suspense novel Rendezvous was adapted into a made-for-television movie.

When Bridget’s not writing, she loves to travel. She’s fallen in love with Paris, France, and can’t wait to get back to Ghana, West Africa. She’s a native of Louisville, Kentucky, who currently resides north of metro Atlanta with her husband and a big dog that she swears is part human.

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I’d like to dedicate this book to all the hardworking bed-and-breakfast innkeepers out there.

Running a bed-and-breakfast is truly a labor of love.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Extract

Copyright

Chapter 1

Corra Coleman danced around her cozy kitchen preparing breakfast and lunch for her children, Jamie and Katie, while she kept a keen eye on the clock. A typical Wednesday morning at the Coleman household.

“Mom, I can’t find my charm bracelet,” Katie whined.

Corra finished stuffing their lunch boxes, and then pushed them to the end of the counter. “Honey, it’s not in your backpack?”

“No, that’s where I’m looking.” Katie stood up and turned her backpack upside down, spilling the contents onto the middle of the kitchen floor.

“Katie!” Corra barked.

“Mom, can I go back upstairs and get my baseball glove?” Jamie asked from his seat at the kitchen table.

“Have you finished your cereal?” Corra asked, as she hurried over to help Katie sort through her belongings on the floor.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Okay, but hurry. The school bus will be outside any minute now, and we’re already in trouble for holding up the bus.”

Jamie pushed his chair back and ran for the stairs.

“It’s not here.” Katie started to cry.

“Well, honey, maybe it’s in your room. Go on up and look for it real quick.” The bracelet was a birthday present from her uncle Rollin last year. The first day she wore it to school she aced her exam and was selected as the lead in her school play. Since then, she wore her lucky charm to school every day.

Katie took off running while Corra buckled her backpack. The way she calculated it she had about twenty seconds to sip some coffee before they came stampeding back down the stairs. She never had time to eat breakfast at home. She walked over to the back door and looked out. Between the houses in back of her she could see the school bus on the next block.

She grabbed the lunch boxes and Katie’s backpack and hurried to the front door. She glanced up the stairs on her way. “What are you two doing up there, the school bus is on the way.”

Ten-year-old Jamie took the stairs two at a time and practically crashed into Corra on his way out.

She hollered out the door. “If you don’t come home with that glove don’t come at all. I’m not buying another one.”

With his backpack on one shoulder, and his glove on one hand, Jamie threw up the other hand signifying he’d heard her.

The bus pulled to a screeching halt a few houses down. Corra turned around looking for Katie. “Katie, come on, the bus is here.”

“But Mom, I still can’t find my bracelet.”

From the bottom of the stairs Corra looked up at her baby who looked like someone had broken her heart. Oh man, he’s going to honk his horn, I know he is. Although her leg was nearly healed after being broken in an accident seven months ago, Corra still wasn’t up to jogging up the stairs. She’d just have to deal with the bus driver because she had to help her baby.

Once upstairs in Katie’s room, she started tossing clothes and covers around. “Where did you last see it?” she asked.

“It was on the dresser when I went to bed last night.”

Corra walked over and peered behind the dresser, and there lay Katie’s bracelet, and a few other items. Corra pulled the dresser out a little. “Bingo.” She retrieved everything, and handed Katie the bracelet. Alongside of the bracelet was a small baby picture of Katie and her father, Eric Hayden, during happier times. Corra hadn’t seen this picture in a long time, or her ex in over two years.

The school bus horn sounded and Corra slapped the picture facedown on the dresser. If she didn’t see that again it would be too soon.

“Come on, young lady.” She grabbed Katie’s hand and hurried out of the room. Katie trotted down the stairs ahead of her.

Katie pulled on her jacket and her backpack, and then gave Corra a hug and a kiss before she ran out the door. Corra stood on the porch and waved as the bus passed. There went the two most important people in her life.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Corra was in her car listening to the radio as she hurried down the quiet picturesque two-lane road that led to her family’s business. The Coleman House bed-and-breakfast was not only her parents’ legacy to her and her brother Rollin, it was also now her place of employment. She pulled her car around the back of the new gift shop into her reserved spot and climbed out.

She walked across the driveway to the back of the house. From outside she could smell the coffee, and breakfast that Rita prepared for the guests that morning. She knocked before opening the back door, then walked in.

“Morning, Corra, grab yourself a plate before I put everything away.” Rita Coleman, Corra’s aunt by marriage and the bed-and-breakfast’s head cook, housekeeper and master gardener came over and planted her usual kiss on Corra’s cheek.

“Morning, Rita.” Corra put her purse in the back hall closet and returned to grab herself a plate.

“Everybody’s out this morning doing one thing or another, but the truck will be back soon and I want to get the kitchen cleaned up.”

Corra looked up at the clock on the kitchen wall. It was almost nine o’clock, which meant she had thirty minutes to eat before she prepared to open the gift shop. “I’m pressed for time this morning too.” Corra sat at the small kitchen table. “I’ve got a local artist bringing some things for consignment.”

“I didn’t know you did consignments?” Rita said, as she poured Corra a cup of coffee.

“We just started. One of Tayler’s ideas.” Her soon-to-be sister-in-law, Tayler Carter, left her job in Chicago to be with Rollin, and brought a wealth of business-building ideas with her.

After Corra finished her breakfast the back door swung open and her older brother, Rollin, walked in. She hadn’t expected to see him since most of his mornings were spent out on the farm.

Dressed in his usual jeans, cotton T-shirt and boots, he walked in wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. “Morning Rollin, I thought you were already out checking the crops by now,” Corra said.

“I was, but I’ve got some business to take care of in town. Some of us start work before 8:00 a.m., missy.” He grabbed a glass from the cabinet and walked over to the refrigerator for water.

“Rollin, you know I can’t get here any earlier. I have to get the kids off to school.” He teased her about her hours every week. Since she quit managing Save-A-Lot groceries and started working at the Coleman House she’d only averaged about thirty hours a week.

Rollin threw back his water and set the glass on the counter. “Sis, I need you to do something for me today.”

“What’s that?” Corra asked, as she finished her plate and pushed it aside.

“I’m expecting a guy to drop by this morning and demo a new computer program. I need you to handle it for me.”

“Me! Why me? You know more about that system than I do. Or Tayler, she knows it.”

“Tayler’s in town taking care of some business and there’s an issue with the last shipment for Whole Foods that I need to attend to. You can do it. Just see if what he has is better than what we’re currently using.”

“But, I have a client coming by this morning.” She placed her plate and his glass in the dishwasher.

“He’s not coming until around noon. And it won’t take long.” Rollin turned and looked out the back window. “Here comes the morning truck. You should have seen the crew this morning. They’re from the city and were so excited to tour the farm they practically ran out and jumped on the truck.”

Corra walked over to the window and stood beside her brother. The pickup truck slowly made its way up the road to the house. The bed-and-breakfast was a working farm where every morning at 8:00 a.m. Kevin, a full-time employee, and Kyla, their cousin and a new employee, loaded the guests on the back of the truck and carried them out to the fields to pick the day’s meal. Rita would prepare their vegetables and fruits for dinner. However, nothing was in season at the moment. So, the guests toured the farm.

“We’ve got a full house this week, don’t we?” Corra asked.

“Yep. For Greek Alumni week at the college, Tayler suggested we offer a discount. Booked us up for two weeks. After that we have a few vacancies.”

“Well, I’d better get ready to open the gift shop.”

“Hey, don’t forget about the computer guy. He’ll come to the house, not the gift shop.”

“Rollin, how can I be in two places at once?”

“Kyla will help you out. Let her cover the shop once he gets here.”

Corra nodded. In the time Corra spent recovering from a broken fibula, Tayler had convinced Rollin to do something she couldn’t—hire more staff. Tayler had taken over serving breakfast from Rollin while Rita remained the queen of the kitchen. To assist her they’d brought on two relatives. Tracee Coleman, who’d spent five years working for a bakery in Louisville, Kentucky, and her younger sister Kyla who was working on her Ph.D. in Agricultural Economics from the University of Kentucky. She worked on the farm four days a week. She had even helped Rollin set up an internship with the local college. They currently had two young interns onboard.

Corra walked outside as the truck pulled up. She waved to Kevin as Kyla jumped off the back of the truck. She gave a few instructions to the guests before waving at Corra.

“Morning, Corra. You missed a fun ride this morning.”

“I’m sure I did.” Corra waved back. Kyla had the body of a dancer, with her long legs and trim figure. She was super smart, highly adaptable, and she had an insatiable curiosity about the bed-and-breakfast. She was just the type of employee they needed.

Seconds after Corra opened up shop the bell over the door jingled. In walked her first customer of the day.

* * *

When the decision was made to move 3C Evolution’s call center to Danville, Kentucky, two employees accepted the offer to move with Christopher Williams. Customer service manager Terry Davis and office manager Valerie Amares were now Danville residents.

The new office was small, but large enough to cover the Southeastern territory. Chris and Terry walked out of a meeting where they discussed how successfully the staffing of the center was going.

“Chris, are you sure you don’t want me to handle this demo for you?” Terry asked.

“I can handle this one. The bed-and-breakfast is owned by one of my former teammates.”

“The Coleman House?” Terry asked.

“Yeah, Rollin Coleman and I played football together in high school. We had some great times out at the farm. Some of which I can’t tell you about.”

Terry laughed. “Yeah, I bet. Getting girls in the cornfield.”

Chris shrugged. “Hey, don’t knock it.”

“Naw, man. I understand. I grew up in a small town myself outside of Indianapolis. I was on my high school basketball team. It was by far the best time of my life. But, those were the good old days,” Terry concluded.

Terry walked down the hall with Chris until they stood at Val’s desk.

“Headed out, Chris?” Val asked.

“I’m going to swing by my folks’ place first, then I’ll be at the Coleman House if anybody’s looking for me.”

“We’ll hold the fort down,” Terry said.

“Do you think you’ll be back in time for the four o’clock conference call?” Val asked.

Chris snapped his fingers. “I forgot all about that.” He turned to Terry. “What are you doing at four o’clock?”

Terry’s eyes widened. “Uh, nothing.”

“Great.” Chris turned to Val. “Terry will sit in for me. Let Craig know.”

“But it’s a director’s meeting!” Terry’s voice rose.

“Good preparation for the increased responsibilities you’ll have here. Just keep me abreast of what’s going on.”

Chris laughed at the startled looks on Terry and Val’s faces. He had a promotion in mind for the both of them, as long as the call center went off without a hitch.

Chris suddenly thought of Corra Coleman. He’d been in town two weeks and he hadn’t seen or spoken to her since his return. Although he’d been extremely busy getting everything functional and assisting Terry in hiring a supervisor and a few call center reps, he should have called Corra the day he arrived. The last time he spoke to her she was recovering nicely from the accident and had no hard feelings toward him. He hoped those emotions hadn’t changed.

Chapter 2

Seven years ago, Chris sold his first business and purchased his parents a modest home on Mitchellsburg Road. The ranch-style home sat on four acres, and was big enough for family barbecues, yet small enough for his mother to get around without much help.

Chris pulled his Cadillac CT6 all the way up to the garage door and killed the engine. Since his return to Danville two weeks ago he’d only visited his parents once, and hadn’t seen his little sister, Pamela, at all. All of that was about to change. Pamela’s car was parked next to his.

Chris climbed out of the car and walked around to the front door. He rang the bell and waited for his father to answer. Instead, Pamela threw the door open.

“Hey, big bro, it’s good to see you.” Pamela stood on her tiptoes to greet Chris with a hug.

Chris squeezed her so hard he lifted her off the ground.

“Chris.” She hit him on the back. “Put me down.”

After a quick kiss on the cheek he planted her feet back on the floor and released her. “Damn, you are skinnier than you were the last time I saw you. What you trying to do, waste away?”

She stepped back and stuck a pose. “I’m not skinny, I’m trim.”

“Oh, yeah. Looks like you’re headed toward an eating disorder to me. You’re not throwing your food up, are you?”

She whacked him good on the arm. “That’s not funny. Eating disorders are a disease.”

“I know. I’m sorry. Come here and give me another hug.”

This time he left her feet on the ground. “I think you felt a little heavier that time,” he said when he released her.

“Boy.” Pamela shoved him and turned away. “Mama’s in the den and Daddy’s out in the garage working on something.”

Chris followed Pamela back into the house. His mother sat on her favorite massage lounger with a throw over her legs, looking as regal as ever. To the naked eye Dakota Williams looked fine. Since Chris was a little boy, pain had been her constant companion. Her invisible illness hadn’t been easy to explain to anyone outside the family. But, after years of suffering, the final diagnosis was fibromyalgia.

“Hey Mom, how you doing?” He bent over and kissed his mother on the forehead before giving her one of his bear hugs. His heart swelled every time he saw his mother.

“I’m fine, baby. And happy to see you.”

“How’s the pain today?” he asked.

“Oh, it’s about a six. That’s why I’m sitting down here watching all these talk shows with Pamela.” She glanced up at Chris. “You know personally I’d rather read a book.”

Pamela crossed her arms. “I thought you wanted to watch The View?”

“I do, honey. The View or whatever that other show was you had me watching a few minutes ago. I tell you, I don’t see how those women have the energy to keep trying to outtalk each other every day.”

Chris chuckled and planted himself on the edge of his mother’s lounger. “If your pain gets up to an eight, you have Pamela help you to bed.”

“Honey, I’m okay. I swear, you worry about me more than I stress about myself.”

“I just want to make sure you’re comfortable is all.”

“I couldn’t be more comfortable than in this massager. Thank you again for the chair, it helps so much.”

“I’m glad. The minute I saw it I thought about you.” Chris looked at Pamela who was so engrossed in her talk show he doubted she remembered he was in the room.

“I’m going out to the garage and see what Daddy’s up to.” He gave his mother another kiss on the forehead.

“I hope he’s not working on another table out there. We’ve got enough already.”

Chris walked down the hall lined with family pictures from his childhood to the present. He opened the door to the garage and could hear his father’s radio playing quietly in the corner while he tinkered with another creation. When Chris closed the door, his father turned around.

“How’s everything, Chris? Glad you stopped by. Let me get your opinion on something.”

“Sure, what you up to?” Chris walked over to see what his father was taking apart now. Before Nathaniel Williams’s former employer up and left Danville, he had a very stressful career. Between work and taking care of his wife he needed an outlet, so he took up woodworking. Now Chris’s dad was one of the most sought-after table designers and furniture repairmen in the county. His original and custom pieces had been commissioned from as far away as the Caribbean Islands.

When Chris was young he used to help his dad build things for work, and remodel their home. Once he started playing football, he spent his summers working in construction for extra money. Between the two of them, they could build a house. And that’s exactly what Chris planned on doing.

Chris placed his hand on his father’s shoulder and observed the handcrafted cigar box he worked on. His father was an inch shorter than Chris’s six-two frame, and thinner too.

“Which one of those designs do you like?” Nathaniel asked, pointing to a piece of paper next to the box. “Mr. Richardson up the street commissioned me to create a set of cigar boxes for his boys about to go off to college.”

Chris frowned. “They smoke cigars?”

“I reckon not. He just wanted all of them to have something special from him.”

Chris picked up the paper and read the inscription written in two different fonts. “I like the second one. It’s fancy, but still legible.”

His father took the paper from him. “Perfect. That’s what I hoped you’d say. That’s my choice as well.” With the paper he tapped Chris softly upside his head. “Like I always say, two heads are better than one.”

“Or, great minds think alike. Don’t forget that one,” Chris added.

Nathaniel laughed. “So what brings you by so early? Your day’s not over already, is it?”

Chris walked over and balanced himself on a stool near the radio. “I’m on my way out to the Colemans’ to demo some new software. I had a few minutes to spare so I thought I’d drop by.”