By the Book


 
 
 
 
 By The Book
 Make Me A Match
 
 
 
 Kay Lyons
 
 
 
 
 
 BY THE BOOK Copyright © 2021 by Kay Lyons
 Cover art Copyright © 2021 @ angel_nt
 Cover Art Design by Kindred Spirits Publishing © 2021
 978-1-953375-06-3
 978-1-953375-07-0
 All rights reserved.
 No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
 
 
 
 Contents
 
 
 
 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
 
 
 
 
 Kay Lyons Books
 
 
 FAQ
 
 
 About the Author
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 1
 
 
 
 
 
 “Tommy, come on,” Claire Simmons called to her thirteen-year-old son. “I’d like to get there today.”
 “So go,” Tommy said, his reply muffled by the door.
 She knocked softly and opened the wooden panel. “We are not doing this. You are in so much trouble right now after getting suspended. I hated calling Grandpa to cancel last minute because of you doing your punishment at the school, but I made excuses for y— Scott Thomas Simmons, you haven’t even packed?”
 Her son lifted a bony shoulder in reply and glared at her, his six-foot frame sprawled out on the bed with his feet hanging over the side.
 “I don’t want to go,” he said, drawing out the words.
 Claire inhaled and dug to the very edges of her soul for patience. “We are surprising Grandpa and spending a fabulous few weeks at the beach while I polish my resume and apply for jobs. Pack.”
 The day after Tommy’s end-of-year detention and makeups, she’d showed up at work like so many others only to be called into a group meeting in the conference room and told to gather her things, handed an envelope, and escorted from the building.
 Reeling from the sudden job loss, she’d sat down and taken a hard look at her finances, Tommy’s behavior, and her reasons for staying in Virginia Beach after Scott’s death rather than moving back to Carolina Cove.
 Her father was well and able-bodied now, but there would come a point where he’d need help, and she didn’t want to be six hours away like she’d been when her mother had collapsed and died from a heart attack before she could make it to see her.
 There was also the fact things had been so strained between her and her father since her pregnancy at seventeen, and after losing her mother, Claire didn’t want that to be the case with her only living parent.
 What better time than now to reconnect with her father and check out the job market there, but also take a much-needed vacation while trying to get Tommy on a more even keel since his father’s death?
 Sounds like a lot to pack into a short stay.
 “Do I have to?”
 Really? What kid didn’t want to go to the beach? “Yes, you have to. Now—or you go without clothes or shoes or anything else for the foreseeable future with only yourself to blame. You have thirty minutes to gather your stuff and meet me at the door. And do not leave your room a mess—I will check. Your bed is to be made, drawers and closet closed, and floor cleaned up before you leave this room. Understood?”
 “I don’t want to sell our house! I don’t want to leave my friends.”
 “Your so-called friends got you suspended for a third time. You’re lucky the principal had mercy and let you take the tests to advance with your class.”
 “This is our house. Dad’s house,” Tommy muttered, glaring at her with tears in his yes, so like his father’s.
 The impact shredded her insides but she stood firm. She wasn’t sure she wanted to move, either, but with the market as hot as it was, her only immediate male family too far away to lend a helping hand and give Tommy the guidance he obviously needed, and her job now nonexistent, the timing couldn’t be ignored. Maybe even considered a sign? “I haven’t made a firm decision of whether we’ll move or not, but Miss Cynthia is coming over while we’re gone to look around and see what she thinks she can price the house for. She may even have a couple of people interested enough to make offers.”
 “I don’t care!”
 “Well, I do. And whether we move to Carolina Cove or stay in Virginia, this house is way more than I can afford on my own. I’m going to talk to Grandpa about it once we get there because he’s good at these kinds of decisions, but in the meantime…Tommy, I need a break, okay? A vacation and time to clear my head and destress from everything that’s going on and… now’s the best time, while I’m between jobs. Help me out here. Please.”
 Claire waited for him to grudgingly get to his feet and grab a duffle bag before she left the room so as to not hear his mutterings.
 Outside his door, she ran through her mental checklist one last time as she wandered the house. Garage door closed, house looking good for her Realtor friend. What else?
 Mail—her neighbor would also get the mail and let her know if anything important showed