THE REDEMPTION OF LILLIE ROURKE by Loree Lough blog tour and giveaway

The Redemption of Lillie Rourke Tour Graphic

THE REDEMPTION OF LILLIE ROURKE

Bestselling Author Loree Lough

The Redemption of Lillie Rourke

Series: By Way of the Lighthouse Series Book 3
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Publisher: Harlequin Heartwarming
Publication Date: April 1, 2018

She'd worked for that second chance, but will he believe she has changed?

When she fled Baltimore after a near-fatal accident that left her dependent on painkillers, Lillie Rourke lost everything. Now, physically and emotionally healed, sheā€™s ready to make amends and start over. But Jase Yeager has moved on, and who can blame him? Yet Lillie isnā€™t giving upā€”on her--or them. Earning back Jaseā€™s trust wonā€™t be easy, but Lillieā€™s no stranger to challengesā€¦




Book Excerpt



The kid whoā€™d offered to help him earlier now pecked keys on the register. ā€œThis sheet music is on sale,ā€ he said, running the book across the scanner screen. ā€œAre you a kindergarten teacher or something?ā€

Lillie grinned. ā€œNo, nothing like that. I volunteer at Hopkins Childrenā€™s Oncology every couple of weeks, and my material is getting stale. Those kids are going through enough without me, adding boredom to their list of complaints. Not that they complain. Theyā€™re the bravest little souls Iā€™ve ever met.ā€

Lillie tended to ramble when nervous, and he felt bad that his nearness made her feel that way.

ā€œMy cousin was in there a few years ago,ā€ the kid said, sliding another songbook over the screen. ā€œLeukemia won.ā€

Jase watched as Lillie, ever the caring comforter, lay a hand atop his.

ā€œIā€™m so sorry,ā€ she said. ā€œHow old was he?ā€

ā€œFourteen.ā€

Her shoulders rose, then fell with a sympathetic sigh. How many times had he told her that her heart was bigger than her head? Too many times to count.

The cashier bagged her music, hit the register button to ring up her total. ā€œItā€™s really nice, what youā€™re doing,ā€ he said, handing her the receipt. ā€œThe thing Lance hated most about that place was how long the days were with nothing to do but watch TV and listen to his monitor beep.ā€

Jase had to agreeā€¦it was a nice thing sheā€™d been doing.

She thanked the kid and turned to face Jase. ā€œWell, it was a nice surprise, seeing you again.ā€

ā€œCan you hang around a minute, just until I pay for this stuff?ā€

She looked surprised by his invitation. In truth, heā€™d surprised himself, extending it. But he couldnā€™t just let her leave.

ā€œOkay,ā€ she said. ā€œIā€™ll wait for you over by the door.ā€

There was a time when, as she looked up at him that way, his heart had beat doubletime. But who was he kidding? It was happening, right now.

The kid made smalltalk with him, too, but Jase barely heard a word as he watched her from the corner of his eye. Silhouetted against the bright sunshine on the other side of the window, he couldnā€™t help but notice the way her chin-length hair curved and curled above her shoulders. She used to dress like a tomboy. Sneakers and jeans with comfy t-shirts, like sheā€™d worn to plant flowers that day in her parentsā€™ yard. But that little dressā€”

ā€œAll set,ā€ the kid said, holding up Jaseā€™s bag.

He thanked the boy and wasted no time, joining Lillie.

ā€œYou want to grab a cup of coffee?ā€ He held open the door, hoping that slight frown didnā€™t mean sheā€™d say no. ā€œItā€™s only a short walk to CafĆ© Latteā€™daā€¦ā€

ā€œOn Aliceanna Street. I remember.ā€

Of course she did, because before her addiction destroyed them they used to go there at least once a week to decide the order of the songs theyā€™d sing at Three-Eyed Joeā€™s.

ā€œSo what do you say? Iā€™ll treat you to a sandwich. Or pie. Or both.ā€ Recalling her penchant for eating small portions, he added, ā€œWe could shareā€¦ā€

Her sweet, sad smile told him she, too, remembered all the meals theyā€™d shared. And again, it made his heart beat a bit harder.

ā€œI donā€™t have to be at work until six, so okay, pie and coffee it is.ā€

They were waiting for the light to change at Fleet and Aliceanna when she said, ā€œThis wonā€™t upset Whitney, will it?ā€

ā€œWhy would it upset her?ā€

ā€œI, well, that day at The Flower Basket, I got the impression she knows that we were a couple.ā€

ā€œI havenā€™t been seeing her long, so I doubt she cares enough to be jealous.ā€

The image of that candlelit table flashed in his mind, proof that she cared. Clamping his jaw against a twinge of guilt, Jase said, ā€œSo how long have you had this Hopkins gig?ā€

ā€œCouple months now.ā€

The light changed, and he pressed a hand to her back to guide her across the street. Not that she needed his assistance. Lillie had been walking to and from her folksā€™ inn to the restaurant and hotel for months. Still, it felt good, felt right, being this close to her again.

Inside CafĆ© Latte Da, Jase admitted that heā€™d skipped breakfast.

ā€œThe guy whoā€™s forever reminding people itā€™s the most important meal of the day?ā€ Lillie laughed. ā€œWhy!ā€

ā€œJust got back from Florida, and didnā€™t have time to make a grocery run. My cupboards are as bare as Mother Hubbardā€™s.ā€

ā€œI caught the last few minutes of the casserole demonstration. You were born to be a TV host.ā€

ā€œYeah, wellā€¦ So I think Iā€™ll get the chicken wrap. What about you? In the mood for something more substantial than pie?ā€

ā€œCoffeeā€™s plenty.ā€

ā€œThought I heard your belly growl earlierā€¦ā€

Instinct made her press a palm to her stomach. ā€œAn espresso is plenty for now. Iā€™ll whip up a sandwich or something before I clock in at the hotel.ā€

When sheā€™d paid for the sheet music, Jase saw a lone ten dollar bill in her wallet. He knew her well enough to explain why sheā€™d said no: Lillie had decided that until he could deposit every dime sheā€™d borrowed, she wouldnā€™t take anything more from him. Unnecessary as that was, Jase respected her decision.

The sat at an empty table near the doorā€”a rare occurrence on a Saturday afternoonā€”and settled in.

ā€œTell me about this volunteer work. When did you sign on for that?ā€

ā€œA week or so after I got home, I gave in to a moment of self-pity.ā€ She stared out the window. ā€œIt was time to stop focusing on me, and start focusing on others.ā€ Eyes locked to his, she added, ā€œBestā€”and worstā€”thing I have ever done.ā€

He didnā€™t get it, and said so.

ā€œLife has put those kids through the wringer. Some of them are barely hanging on, but theyā€™re hanging on. A person canā€™t help but admire the fight in them.ā€ She sipped her espresso. ā€œHard to feel sorry for yourself after spending time with them.ā€

It made sense, considering how sheā€™d always said that self-pity was the most dangerous of all human emotions.

ā€œMust be tough, though, working that closely with them.ā€

ā€œOnly during the drive home.ā€

ā€œWhy?ā€

Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. ā€œBecause I never know which of them wonā€™t be there when I go back.ā€

And not because theyā€™d gone home, healthy, he surmised.

She started talking about individual kids, the conditions that put them into Hopkins, the parents and siblings that supported them, and the staff that cared for and comforted them. Hands folded on the table, Lillie said, ā€œAnd then thereā€™s Jason, the sweetest, cutest ten year old boy youā€™ll ever meet. He told me the other day that he wants to marry one of the girlsā€”Sallyā€”because his momā€™s biggest regret is that sheā€™ll never see him walk down the aisle with the girl of his dreams.ā€

Wiping away a wayward tear, she added, ā€œThen he asked me if Iā€™d sing at their wedding, and help him make arrangements. Flowers. Streamers. Punch and a cake.ā€

And he knew that sheā€™d agreed to everything. Jase wanted nothing more at that moment than to take her in his arms, tell her what a terrific person she was. But he sat back, instead, and said, ā€œHow can I help?ā€

ā€œHelp? You?ā€

ā€œHey. Quit looking so shocked. I do nice stuff once in a while, you know.ā€

ā€œI know that better than almost anyone,ā€ was her quiet reply.

ā€œMaybe we can work up a couple of tunes, two or three of the things weā€™d sing at Three-Eyed Joeā€™s when people were celebrating anniversariesā€¦ā€

It meant spending time with her, alone, and Jase hoped the offer hadnā€™t been a big mistake.

ā€œI think the kids might like that.ā€

She thought the kids might like it? Why the hesitation? And then it hit him: She was as afraid of being so close, of reliving warm and wonderful moments as he was.

ā€œThen letā€™s put our heads together, figure outā€¦ When is this ceremony, anyway?ā€

ā€œIn two weeks.ā€ There wasnā€™t a trace of a smile on her face when she added, ā€œIf he makes it that long.ā€

ā€œKeep a good thought, Lill. If the kid is half as determined to do this for his mom, heā€™ll make it. And who knows? Maybe itā€™s just what he needs to push him closer to a cure.ā€

She brought the espresso cup to her lips and, nodding, met his eyes.

His high school Lit teacher had made the class memorize what sheā€™d termed ā€œlove poems.ā€ It surprised him that, after all this time, he was able to zero in on a line from Sir Walter Scottā€™s ā€œLochinvarā€: Sheā€™d lookā€™d down to blush, and sheā€™d lookā€™d up to sigh, with a smile on her lips and a tear in her eyeā€¦ā€

Yet again, Jase had to fight the urge to draw her into a comforting hug.

He cleared his throat. Sat up straighter. Downed a gulp of his iced tea. ā€œSo where do you think we should get together? My place? Weā€™d have plenty of quiet and privacy there.ā€

Too much, too soon, he realized when her eyes grew big and round.

ā€œThe acoustics are great in the innā€™s turret. Iā€™m sure Mom and Dad wonā€™t mind. In fact, they were just asking about you the other day. Iā€™m sure theyā€™d love seeing you.ā€

ā€œSounds good. Iā€™ll be home for a month, so my schedule is pretty flexible. Youā€™re the one whoā€™s clocking a hundred hours a week, soā€¦ā€

ā€œIā€™m happy to see you havenā€™t changed much,ā€ she said, laughing. ā€œStill exaggerating like crazyā€¦one of the things that made me crazy about you.ā€

She gasped a little when that last line came out and, hands over her mouth, Lillie said, ā€œGood grief. Iā€™m sorry, Jase. That was really inappropriate. And bad timing.ā€

ā€œItā€™s neither, and itā€™s okay. Nothing wrong with concentrating on the good times. We had plenty of those beforeā€¦ā€

If heā€™d been standing, Jase might have kicked himself, because things had been going really well until he put his big foot in his mouth. Lillie shoved the espresso cup into the center of the table, her way of saying their meeting was over. Sheā€™d gathered her things and stood, and he did, too.

ā€œSo should I call you? Or would you rather call me? About a time when we can get together. To rehearse, I mean.ā€

Rambling again. And again, he felt bad for raising her stress level. ā€œDo you have a pen?ā€

Like magic, she produced one from her purse.

Leaning over the table, he scribbled three phone numbers on a napkin. ā€œHome, cell, and office,ā€ he said, ā€œin that order. You can always get me on my cell. Call any time.ā€ Call soon, he thought. As he pressed the napkin into her hand, their fingers touched. Not for longā€”a blink in time, if thatā€”but long enough to send a current of longing straight to his heart.

Heā€™d been behaving like some guilt-ridden goofball whoā€™d dumped his best girl, when in reality, Lillie had ended them by choosing booze and pills over their relationship.

It hit him like a punch to the gut: Suggesting that they get together, for any reason, had been a bad idea. But maybe luck was on his side, and sheā€™d hesitated earlier because she felt the same way. Jase hoped she wouldnā€™t call. And he hoped she would. Why had she come back, just when heā€™d gotten himself back on track, and turn order into chaos again?

Feeling miserable and confused, Jase held open the cafƩ door.

A tiny frown furrowed her brow. ā€œAre you okay?ā€

ā€œYeah. Just remembered something I forgot to do.ā€ Likeā€¦staying the heck away from her.

ā€œOh. Because you lookā€¦different.ā€

ā€œDonā€™t mind me,ā€ he said, leading the way across the street. ā€œIā€™m a little annoyed with myself, is all, for forgettingā€¦ā€ He let his sentence trail off.

ā€œI remember what a perfectionist you are, and how frustrated you get with yourself when you let something, no matter how trivial, slip through the cracks.ā€

Yeah, she knew him, all right. Their closeness is what allowed her to use him, time and again, to suit her I love drugs more than you needs.

About Loree Lough


Loree Lough
Bestselling author LOREE LOUGH once sang for her supper, performing across the U.S. and Canada. Now and then, she blows the dust from her 6-string to croon a tune or two, but mostly, she writes novels that have earned hundreds of industry and "Readers' Choice" awards, 4- and 5-star reviews, and 7 book-to-movie options. Her 115th book, 50 Hours, is her most personal to date, and released in June. More recently, The Man She Knew, book #1 in her ā€œBy Way of the Lighthouseā€ series (Harlequin Heartwarming) and Bringing Rosie Home. Next, #3 in the series, The Redemption of Lillie Rourkeā€¦and additional surprises for 2018, 2019, and beyondā€¦.

Official website: http://www.loreelough.com

Connect with Loree Lough on social media: Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Pinterest


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