“Five pounds, sugar. You’ve lost five pounds.”
Quen high-fived me and I did a little mambo. I’d finally learned that move from step class, but it had taken me several classes to get it down.
Losing that weight felt good, having Quen’s hands on me felt even better. I liked him touching me. I often moved an arm or leg into his accidentally as I struggled with a machine during my workouts. Sometimes I struggled on purpose, and although his touching me could be considered part of his job as my personal trainer, there were times I fantasized about a different scenario….
I smiled into those chocolate eyes and tried not to lick my lips. I loved it that he called me sugar. Although weight loss and sweetener didn’t go together, we were at least making progress. I was sick and tired of being called thick, and now that his skinny ex was coming to town I needed to get the weight off. She would be my incentive.
Books by Marcia King-Gamble
Kimani Romance
Flamingo Place
Kimani Press Arabesque
Remembrance
Eden’s Dream
Under Your Spell
Illusions of Love
A Reason to Love
Change of Heart
Come Fall
Come Back to Me
A Taste of Paradise
Designed for You
Kimani Press Sepia
Jade
This Way Home
Shattered Images
MARCIA KING-GAMBLE
was born on the island of St. Vincent, a heavenly place in the Caribbean where ocean and skies are the same mesmerizing blue. An ex–travel industry executive, Marcia’s favorite haunts remain the Far East, Venice and New Zealand.
In her spare time, she enjoys kickboxing, step aerobics and Zumba, then winding down with a good book. A frustrated interior designer, Marcia’s creativity finds an outlet in her home where nothing matches. She is passionate about animals, tearjerker movies and spicy food. She serves double duty as the director of member services at the Writers and Artists Institute in south Florida, and is the editor of Romantically Yours—a monthly newsletter.
To date, Marcia has written twelve novels and two novellas. She loves hearing from fans. You may contact her at [email protected], or P.O. Box 25143, Fort Lauderdale, FL 33320.
All About Me
Marcia King-Gamble
To Teresa and James Etta, owners of Nonna’s Café.
Your gelato got me through and your latte kept me awake.
Thanks for leasing me free space.
Dear Reader,
I have always been fascinated by small towns. Maybe it’s because I grew up on a little island where there was a sense of belonging and community that rarely exists in cities today.
Since community has always been important to me, with the help of my good friend, urban designer George Johnston (www.jtphome.com), we created Flamingo Beach. This delightful oceanfront community in Florida is a place where everyone knows everyone, and minding each other’s business is a favorite pastime.
These days Flamingo Beach is in transition and fighting it every step of the way. More and more new people are moving in, condominiums are being renovated and construction is everywhere. The real estate market is booming. And Chere Adams, introduced in the first book of this series, Flamingo Place, is now moonlighting as a real estate agent. And as Flamingo Beach changes, so does Chere. But is a beautiful facade all that matters, or is having a solid foundation more important? I’d be interested in hearing what you think. E-mail me at [email protected] or write me at P.O. Box 25143, Fort Lauderdale, FL 33320.
And be sure not to miss my next Kimani Romance title, Down and Out in Flamingo Beach, as Flamingo Beach, as the town’s oldest citizens celebrate their centennials.
Romantically yours,
Marcia King-Gamble
Contents
Chapter 1
I knew who I was.
Chere Adams, big, beautiful, black and damn proud of it. So what was I doing at a step aerobics class at this hour when I should be in bed?
As I huffed, puffed and stared out of the big picture windows wondering when this torture would end, outside the Florida sun began to rise. In my head I pictured pork chops, scrambled eggs and grits washed down by a gallon of sweet tea. I should be wolfing down breakfast not sweating off a meal I hadn’t had.
“Pick it up, ladies. Work it!”
The instructor’s voice through that amplified microphone was already hurting my head. And the rap music at this hour of the morning threatened to blow an eardrum.
“One, two, three, four, five, pump those arms. Work it! Sashay to the right and pick up the