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Steal My Heart, Trevor (Best Friends To Forever Book 2)




  Table of Contents

  Steal My Heart, Trevor

  Licensing Rights

  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

  Epilogue

  Other Stories like This...

  More Books by Barbara Lohr

  Diamondback Rescue Mission

  About the Author

  Steal My Heart, Trevor

  By Barbara Lohr

  Licensing Rights

  Copyright © 2019 Barbara Lohr

  All rights reserved.

  Ebook ISBN: 978-1-945523-16-8

  Purple Egret Press

  Editor: Bev Katz Rosenbaum

  All Rights Reserved. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be resold or given away to other people. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems. With the exception of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews, this work may not be reproduced without written permission granted by the author

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, events and places in the book are products of the author’s imagination and are either fictitious or used fictitiously. Any similarity of real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Dedication

  For Pattye and all the

  “turtle ladies” who work tirelessly

  to save our diamondbacks.

  Chapter 1

  What was she doing here? Bryn Peachum checked the clock in the Sweetwater Creek High School gym. Trevor Daniels had been droning on for thirty minutes. She stifled a yawn. Maybe soon he’d get to the interesting part. The part that wasn’t packed with scientific terms she’d never understand. Her eyes fell to the stacked bleachers and a water fountain that probably still had bubble gum wads plastered underneath. If she closed her eyes, this might be Principal Krunkle lecturing them about traffic patterns in the halls. She’d gone to school here. Some things never changed.

  And tonight? Even physical education had been a lot more exciting than this presentation. That PhD after Trevor’s name in the Sweetwater Gazette ad should have been a warning. What did that stand for anyway? Please Hear the Doctor.

  Swallowing a giggle, she played with the ruffle edging the peach sundress she’d scored at Coralee’s Consignment Shop. The gym was hot. Grabbing the program with Trevor’s picture on the front, she fanned herself. Perspiration prickled at her hairline. Another chart flashed onto the screen. Bryn hadn’t come for charts or numbers. Worried sick, she fanned faster.

  Was she the only person in the room who didn’t understand a thing he was saying? Bryn did a slow turn. Women seemed captivated by the lanky guy with wild hair and intense eyes. Merilee Georgette’s lips had fallen open and she kept nodding her head. Puh-lease. She really understood all this gibberish? In high school geography Merilee hadn’t even realized that North America was above South America on the map.

  Tonight women outnumbered men three to one. Sweetwater Creek was in dire need of more single men in her age group. And here was one fine specimen. A few months back, her friend Emily had brought Trevor to the opening of Victoria’s Pantry, a new shop on the square. Bryn had been glad to see her grade school buddy again. Emily told her later that he was divorced and raising two children. How could a woman leave a guy like this?

  Things didn’t work out between Emily and Trevor, mainly because she only had eyes for Jackson. Dating drama wasn’t Bryn’s thing. Thank goodness she had Malcolm.

  Tonight Bryn had come to hear about climate change and its effect on the Lowcountry coastline. Her lips burned with unanswered questions. Trying to concentrate, she wished Trevor would get there soon. Would ecosystems and carbon cycles be clearer if Bryn had taken her daddy’s advice and gone to college?

  Maybe. Maybe not.

  “Some of the habitats include coral reefs, kelp forests and sea grass meadows.” Trevor’s voice vibrated with excitement. He shoved at his glasses with one hand, a gesture she remembered from grade school.

  But he’d changed. That lower octave in his voice? The shrug of a broad shoulder under that lab coat? This was a whole new Trevor. Aiming his laser pointer onto the screen, he swirled it around with authority. “And now for the most interesting part.”

  Oh goody. Pressing a hand to her chest, Bryn settled back. Trevor advanced to the next slide. Finally he was getting to the point.

  Or was he?

  More technical gibber-jabber came out of his mouth. Phytoplankton, cetaceans and marine ecology. Words that made her feel stupid. And he spouted them with such excitement, such obvious appreciation. Was this the Trevor she’d hung out with in grade school before her family moved to Sweetwater Creek? While the cool kids got picked for teams and played dodge ball together during recess, she’d sat on a swing giggling with Trevor about photosynthesis. Back then, she’d understood what her geeky friend was saying.

  Now? She was totally lost.

  Feeling left behind, she flexed her toes in the lime green slides, also from Coralee’s. Almost everything she had was second hand.

  Lifting her chin, she focused on Trevor. Bright lights glanced off his sandy hair. From time to time, he whipped off his glasses and stabbed the air to make a point. Bobbing one foot, she waited for him to get to coastal climate change and rising water.

  But that wasn’t happening.

  Instead, scientific gobble-de-gook was spewing from his lips. Looking around, she noticed women riveted to their seats, dressed in summer tops with suspiciously low necklines. Had they come for the talk or Trevor? His picture had appeared in the Sweetwater Gazette in an ad for this super-boring talk. These girls hadn’t come to hear about plankton or ecosystems. No, they wanted to drink in the beauty of Trevor Daniels.

  He was one hot man. Handsome and smart to boot.

  Maybe too smart. Dumb it down, Trevor.

  While she played with the tortoise shell handle of her new purse, the past played in her mind. Science had made them buddies in grade school. Well, that and the fact that no one else would play with them. Trevor and Bryn rocked that science fair. Although it didn’t start out that way, they ended up competing with their projects. Back then, she should have seen that Trevor would be the one ending up at the podium, while Bryn was just another girl in the audience.

  For their final eighth grade project, Bryn narcissus bulbs in her parents’ cool, dark closet. As she checked the glass containers each morning, watching the roots grow around the base of rocks, she knew she’d win. Planted in two week increments, the plants shot up bright green and promising. That blue ribbon was as good as hers.

  The day of the competition, she’d placed her three containers on the table before the judges. The blossoms perfumed the air in the school’s multi-purpose room. Her chest swelled with pride––because it hadn’t gotten around to swelling with anything else like the other girls. Her parents would be so proud of her.

  Then Trevor showed up with charts and windmills, explaining how the velocity of wind affected the wetlands. Boring, or so she thought then. The judges, professors from Asheboro College where Trevor now taught, were intrigued. He got the A and the blue r
ibbon. Excited, Trevor had introduced her to his mother. She was so pretty, almost like a queen.

  But as she turned to leave the gym that night, Bryn overheard his mother say, “My goodness, didn’t you hear me the first time, Trevor? That little girl isn’t suitable for you. Your father thinks so too.” That night nothing Mama said could coax her out for their supper of collards and beans. But the next day she’d played gin rummy with Trevor at recess...because who could make her smile more than this boy?

  By this time she’d developed a secret crush on her best friend. It was just crazy. Maybe it was his voice, that had gotten deeper. Or the fact that he now towered above her. Or his sweet smile.

  Good thing her parents decided to move to Sweetwater Creek. Her father had taken a position at the paper mill. The move allowed her to leave Trevor and his disapproving mother behind. But she never forgot him and had carved their initials into a bench on the square. The Park Department had painted over her handiwork a long time ago.

  Tonight he was the man who could have answers for her. But he still hadn’t gotten around to it. Fingering one of her silver turtle earrings, she fumed. It took lot to tick off Bryn Peachum. Trevor’s talk had brought her to the edge. He’d always thrown around dollar words when a ten-cent word would do. The kids in class used to tease him something terrible.

  Tonight? They were lapping him up like sweet tea.

  The PowerPoint had ended. Really? Whipping off his glasses, Trevor looked relieved. “Any questions?”

  Manicured fingers fluttered in the air. Bryn sucked in a breath and she pressed her back against the metal chair. No way was she stepping up, even though she desperately needed answers.

  He nodded to a blonde wearing way too much makeup. The woman bounced up and stepped into the aisle, maybe to show off those legs that stretched forever. “With the climate change and everything, how will that affect the sea grass and all of the marine life?”

  “Excellent question.” Bryn thought Trevor might jump right out of his shorts. MissTallandLeggy would probably like that. Professor Daniels launched into a detailed explanation of how water temperature could affect the phytoplankton and the zooplankton. At least, Bryn thought that’s what he said. “And I don’t mean to neglect the cetaceans, of course,” he finished. When he nodded to make that point, a lock of hair flipped onto his forehead. She heard the sighs behind her, like the whisper of restless waves on Butter Bean Beach.

  While Bryn tried to figure out how that last word was spelled and what it meant, Trevor clicked back to a slide with the word. “Cetacenas” was just a fancy name for big whales. Well, for Pete’s sake. Why didn’t he just say so?

  She flapped the program in front of her face. Lordy day, it was getting warm in here.

  Another hand waved. MissTallandLeggy eased back into her seat, legs neatly crossed at the ankles as if she were Meghan Markle. DarkHairandDimples shot from the row just ahead of Bryn to take her place. “I was just wondering, Dr. Daniels...”

  His face flushed just a bit. Did Trevor like being called “doctor”?

  Maybe. Maybe not.

  “Now I understand...” She waved a perfumed hankie at him. The strong scent of lilies of the valley got a choke hold on Bryn. Now, she loved that dainty flower that sprang up every spring with the promise of summer to come. But not tonight. The girl stopped waving the hankie but kept talking. “...that sea grasses came from terrestrial plants that landed in the ocean seventy-five to one hundred million years ago.”

  What was she nattering on about? Trevor kept nodding. Leaving the podium, he wandered down the aisle in all his glorious manliness. The ladies sat up straighter, smoothed their hair and crossed their legs, their skirts inching up just a bit.

  How disgusting. But she totally understood.

  Scrawny Trevor from eighth grade had turned into a hunk. The white lab coat strained at his shoulders when he turned around. Must have been a long day because underneath the open lab coat, his shirt was rumpled. A red and white tie hung loose. Why did he even bother in all this heat? Sweetwater Creek hadn’t seen a day below ninety for ever so long.

  But then Trevor always had a proper side. Mrs. Daniels had worn linen dresses and pearls. A doctor who was always seen in a suit, his father had a big job at the Asheboro Hospital. As she recalled, the Daniels expected Trevor to follow in his father’s footsteps. How had he avoided that?

  Now the big guns, probably high school science teachers, began to fire questions. Trevor retreated behind the podium. The scientific lingo made her head spin. Had he planted them in the audience so he could show off his expertise? But Trevor had never been a show-off. The words whizzed over her head. Bryn slid lower in her chair.

  Why had she come? But the answer was simple.

  The ad had asked the question “Will the marsh be here in twenty years?”

  How terrifying. How would her babies survive if the marsh wasn’t here? What changes were coming, and what could she do about it? She had to know.

  The discussion had turned thick as the gray mud in the marsh. Her clammy hands worked the tortoise shell handle of her bag. She couldn’t...just wouldn’t...ask her question. She’d always been the girl in the background. Never raised her hand in class, or the kids would nudge each other and tease her later.

  The room had fallen silent.

  “Well then, if there are no more questions...” Trevor flipped off the projector. He looked ready to wrap this up.

  Oh, mercy. Her hand shot up.

  “Yes, miss?” He smiled. So now she was “miss” and not Bryn, his long-lost friend? They’d had a few words at the open house for Victoria’s Pantry on the square. With an encouraging nod, he beckoned to her. “Could you stand, please?”

  No, not really.

  Somehow she made it to her feet.

  “But what about the turtles?” Her voice was a whisper.

  “I’m sorry?” Leaving the podium again, Trevor edged closer. The other women craned their necks. “Could you speak up?”

  The plastic handle of her purse broke with a loud snap. Somehow she slid it back onto the chair, her fingers stinging something awful.

  DarkHairandDimples tittered before clamping a hand over her lips. Well, she’d better not stop at Byrn’s Blooms for a birthday bouquet for her mother.

  “I was just wondering. I mean, I wanted to know about the turtles.” Bryn was making a spectacle of herself.

  “The turtles?” He threw her a confused smile.

  Bryn cleared her throat. “The diamondback turtles. If the climate changes and the water gets real warm, well, what will happen to them?”

  Bryn didn’t miss the eyeroll MissTallandLeggy exchanged with the girl beside her. No doubt they’d been to college and knew the answer to the question. They’d understood the technical jargon he was tossing out. She bet they didn’t buy their clothes at Coralee’s.

  A frown pleated Trevor’s wide brow. “They would be at risk, of course.”

  At risk? “They can’t live in water that’s...” Reaching for the right word, she swirled a hand. Was she bleeding? She’d cut her hand on the darn purse handle. No way did she want to ruin this dress so she folded her hands tight in front of her.

  “The diamondbacks live in tidal marshes, estuaries and lagoons, so yes, if their intertidal habitat is destroyed, their future might be grim.” His eyes darkened.

  “Oh, my poor babies!” She felt crushed.

  “Babies?” He blinked.

  The group was getting restless. Were any of these people her customers? She didn’t want them to see her like this. Knitted together, her hands felt sticky and warm.

  “Did I answer your question?” Trevor smiled kindly.

  “Yes. I guess.” She collapsed into her seat.

  “Well then.” Heads followed him back to the podium. “I guess we’re finished.” Applause echoed from the high ceiling.

  Feeling frustrated, humiliated and sweaty, Bryn pried her purse open. Somewhere in this bag she had tissues. Ah, her
e they were. She pressed a wad of tissue against her bleeding hand.

  Folks were filing out of the rows. Time to make a break for it. People stopped to chat in small groups, and she angled around them.

  “Bryn, Bryn!”

  Oh no. Was Trevor calling to her?

  Her shoulders squeezed tight. But she couldn't run away.

  So she turned. “Professor Daniels. Great job up there.” No way would she admit that she couldn't understand half of it.

  Color tinged his cheeks. Trevor had always been a little shy. But wouldn’t that have changed by now? After all, he must talk to groups every day in his classroom. As he drew closer, his warm brown eyes reminded her of coffee, deep and comforting. Funny how that one glance warmed her to her toes. He must drive all his female students crazy.

  “Hope you found it interesting.” His smile seemed to beg her to say yes.

  “It was very informative.”

  “I mean, you always had an interest in science.”

  “Yes, I did.” Thinking back, she smiled. “Remember when we made pixie gardens?”

  Grinning, Trevor made a funny face. “Right, we dug up moss, basically a fungus, from under the trees.”

  “Oh, we never thought of it like that.” She liked remembering the beautiful little worlds they created. “Those tiny mushrooms?”

  “Also fungus. At least we never tried to eat them.” He shuddered. Obviously, he didn’t share her warm, fuzzy memories.

  “I guess they were gross, when you think about it like that.” She drew back.

  Trevor glanced around the gym. “Is this where you went to school after you left Asheboro?”

  “Yeah, I like coming back here.” Her high school years had been way more fun than grade school. In the halls of Sweetwater Creek High she’d met Josie and Emily. Her limited wardrobe never mattered. “This is it.”

  “We missed you after your family left.”

  Bryn seriously doubted it. “My dad got a job over here at the paper mill. And my mother didn't want him driving all that way to work.” How ironic. The car accident hadn’t happened on the way to work. No, they’d been coming home from a church social one night when the truck hit them.