Michelle Lindo-Rice's Blog

As rivals, they’ve always clashed.But to care for a baby, will they come together?
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About the Book

Adorable baby Micah melts Sienna King’s heart instantly. Too bad he’s related to the most insufferable man Sienna knows. Joel Armstrong has temporary custody of his sweet nephew—and no clue what he’s doing. Sienna has free time…and a yearning to be a mother. It could be a perfect match. But what happens when they both start wanting a long-term ever after?

Chapter One

Of all the locations in all the world, Joel Armstrong had to end up here—in Shreveport, Louisiana—on a Friday afternoon in this tiny blip of an airport. Sienna King leaned forward so her knotless auburn braids would cover her face while she read through her dissertation research on her iPad mini titled The Effect Size of Teaching on Student Progress Despite Poverty and Parenting. This was her fourth time reading through it after the humiliating faux pas during her defense the week before. But Sienna would have a second chance to present during the summer, and she was going to ensure there wouldn’t be a need for a third.

Maybe Joel wouldn’t spot her. Although, at five foot ten, she was hard to miss, especially with so many empty seats in the small waiting area. Still, a girl could hope.

A shadow loomed. In her peripheral view, Sienna saw a long, lanky frame slink into the seat next to her and gave him the side-eye. At six-four, Joel was one of the few men who truly towered over her. He had olive-toned skin like she did, a light beard and curls the girls seemed to love. He’d only recently started sporting a beard which suited him.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, moving her braids off her face, not even trying to feign surprise or hide her irritation at her companion. This was how she communicated with Joel.

Ever since he had beaten her at the annual spelling bee in second grade—her parents had been mad at her for spelling the word fuchsia incorrectly—Sienna had been angry at Joel. He had preened over that plastic medal, keeping it on his desk just to taunt her, which lead to the birth of their decades-long rivalry. All through school, if she answered a question, he had the opposite response. The worst of it was in high school, when he received a perfect score on the SATs. Eventually, their interactions with each other became a habit. It was one she never intended to break.

Right as she asked the question, Sienna noticed he was holding a small, squirming bundle in his arms. “What is that?” She pointed, her eyes wide.

“What does it look like?” he shot back, lifting the baby boy to his shoulder and giving him an awkward pat on his back. At least, she presumed he was a boy, judging by the blue blanket dotted with gray elephants and baby bag. Suddenly, the baby opened his mouth, fully intending to suck on Joel’s jacket. A very dirty jacket.

Sienna considered moving to another seat, but she couldn’t risk the baby sucking on germs. She dropped her iPad in her bag and snatched—er, rescued—the infant from his clueless caretaker just as he stuck out his little tongue.

“What did you do that for?” Joel snapped, holding on to the infant’s legs with one hand while lifting his baseball cap to glare at her.

“What’s the point of having a receiving blanket if you’re not going to use it properly?” She jutted her chin toward him. “He was about to eat your filthy jacket. Although I’m not sure why you’re wearing one in the month of June.” Sienna made a show of placing the receiving blanket over her shirt and then cuddling the baby in her arms.

Releasing his hold, Joel rested his head against the wall. “Good catch. I didn’t even think about it.” He sighed. “Not even an hour, and I’m already failing at this whole babysitting thing. I don’t know what made me say yes,” he mumbled.

The baby fussed. “Where’s his bottle?” she asked.

Joel fumbled around in the diaper bag and took out a small bottle.

Sienna popped it into the infant’s mouth. He started sucking hard. “He is going at it,” she observed, smiling at the bronzed face peering up at her.

“I couldn’t get him to feed on the ride here,” Joel breathed out, wiping his forehead.

When he was finished, the little one cooed. Aw. The sound went right into her heart. Sienna placed the bottle in the pocket of the diaper bag and held the baby to burp him. She closed her eyes, loving the feel of his cheek against her face—and that smell. The mixture of baby’s breath, formula and newborn rolled into one intoxicating scent, making her ovaries scream. She patted his back, and he released a huge burp.

Chuckling, she asked Joel, “What’s his name?”

Joel stretched and rested his hands on his jeans. “Micah. He’s my nephew.” His brows furrowed. “My brother, Greg, and his wife, Tessa, live here in Shreveport. She had a medical emergency, and Greg asked me to take care of Micah for a little while. He said it should only be a few weeks, tops.”

“Your brother must have been really desperate to trust you with his newborn.”

“More like overwhelmed. Micah is three weeks old, and Greg has been toggling between caring for him and Tessa. Thankfully, he knows a judge and was able to get me temporary custody and Micah’s birth certificate early.”

Seeing the worry in Joel’s dark brown eyes pricked her heart. “Sorry to hear that.” She struggled to keep her tone noncommittal, pressing her lips together to keep her curiosity sealed. Getting into other people’s business meant you were inviting them into yours. And she sure didn’t want Joel in hers. The very nature of his job as the town’s reporter made him nosy. A nuisance. If there was something to know, Joel was the one to find out.

More passengers trickled over to the gate, sitting in the row ahead. Scanning the room, Sienna hoped there wouldn’t be too many more.

“What brings you to Shreveport?” Joel inquired.

She adjusted the baby tummy-up on her lap. “A former student of mine is in the air force and invited me to his pinning ceremony as he was ranking up.”

“Oh, that’s right. There’s a base about twenty minutes from here.” He cocked his head. “That was nice of you to attend.”

“He doesn’t have any family, so I kept in touch with him through the years.”

“And that’s why you are Swallow’s Creek’s Teacher of the Year for two years in a row. I wish you would let me feature you in the town paper.”

“I don’t need recognition,” she said, her tone frosty. “Whatever I do for others, it’s because I care.”

“All the more reason to let me do the story.”

Joel had been pressing her to do the article since last year. She turned him down every time, but that didn’t stop him from trying.

“See, this is why I don’t try to have a conversation with you. You don’t quit.” Sienna pulled out a changing pad and a diaper then changed Micah. Micah pumped his little legs. “Where’s his car seat and stroller?” she asked once she was finished.

“I checked the car seat and didn’t take the stroller,” Joel said, pointing to the baby carrier on his chest. “I wanted to pack light. I’ll buy whatever he needs once I’m home.”

She snorted. “That was a big mistake. You’re going to need a ton of stuff. These little guys come with a lot of baggage. You’ll have to get a bassinet, formula, diapers…a baby cam. All of that.”

“Yeah, I am clueless.” He rubbed his chin and studied her. “You seem to know a lot about babies. Would you mind coming with me to the department store once we’re back in town?”

“Ah… I don’t know if I’m the right person for the job,” she hedged, returning the baby to Joel. She grimaced at Joel’s awkward attempts to hold the infant. “Maybe you could ask Jade or Kelsey,” she said, referring to her best friends, who were mothers. Sienna was godmother to Jade’s almost sixteen-year-old daughter, Izabella, and she played aunt to Kelsey’s twin six-year-old girls, Mia and Morgan. Kelsey was also expecting again and due sometime in early July. 

“Thanks. I’ll reach out…” He sounded lost. But Jade or Kelsey would set him straight, Sienna told herself, pushing back the small feeling of guilt. Micah chose that moment to release a little sigh, which tugged at her heart.

Kelsey’s pregnancy had awakened Sienna’s desire to be a mother, but until she was finished with her dissertation, everything else would have to wait, including motherhood. Sienna wanted to be a wife and then have children, and a husband wasn’t on her must-have-anytime-soon list.

For now, her computer was her only serious relationship. That suited her just fine. Her laptop didn’t fuss, didn’t complain, and when she was tired of it, all she had to do was close the lid.

In the meantime, Sienna fed her maternal instincts by volunteering in the nursery at church. The head organizer was on vacation, and Sienna was the lead caretaker in her absence.

“Are you connecting in Dallas or Charlotte?” Joel asked.

“Dallas.”

“So am I. Where are you sitting?”

She huffed. “On a seat inside the plane. Where do you expect me to be? On the wing?” She knew she was being snarky, but really, he just asked too many questions.

Joel held up a hand. “Just making conversation.” Even though more passengers had trickled over to the gate, Sienna deduced their flight wouldn’t be full, which was good news.

The flight crew walked up to the podium, and the attendant shared with the passengers that the plane was being cleaned and prepared for takeoff. Sienna glanced at her watch. There was about ten minutes before they would begin to board. Joel excused himself, leaving the diaper bag with her, and strolled up to the counter.

Sienna decided to text her Three Amigas group, which consisted of herself, Kelsey and Jade. Her fingers glided across the screen. Guess who I ran into?

Your future husband, Jade shot back. Sienna sent a gagging emoji.

I wish, she replied.

Jade sent three question marks.

Joel’s here and get this. He’s coming back to DE with a baby.

Kelsey’s answer was instant. Hold up. Joel’s got a baby mama?

No. His nephew. Sienna looked up and saw Joel heading back her way. The attendant announced they were going to be boarding soon. Gotta go. Talk later. She slipped the phone into her purse.

Joel returned and asked. “What zone are you in?”

“I’m zone six,” Sienna said.

“If you want, I can upgrade our tickets to first class. I could use help with the baby, and I’m too tall to be cramped on that small plane. I need all the leg room I can get.”

How can he afford an upgrade? she wondered. He was a small-town reporter. But it wasn’t her business.

He tapped his feet. “Well? Do you want it or not?”

Her instinct was to decline, but the baby shouldn’t have to endure the plane ride with an amateur. Besides, Sienna couldn’t resist being better than Joel, and helping with Micah would be a good way to rub it in his face. She smirked. “When you put it like that, how can I say no?”

“You could just say thank you.” He grabbed his backpack and diaper bag, then marched up to the counter. She stood, gathered her belongings and accompanied Joel to get the new ticket. Sienna mumbled her appreciation. She knew she should be gracious, but being in Joel’s presence made her cranky. Within minutes, they were settled together in the airplane with the baby nestled on his lap, fast asleep.

At one point of their journey, an older woman across the aisle looked over at them and smiled. “Such a good baby. You guys make a beautiful family.”

Since he was in the aisle seat, Joel thanked the woman, which led to her chattering on about her own grandchildren. However, Sienna remained silent, sucker punched by the woman’s assumption that she was Micah’s mother. She stole a glance at Micah. How she wished she could claim this adorable child. She looked out the window, once again yearning to know how it would feel to bear life.

Her parents’ mantra, Education before love and marriage, counteracted her biological clock. Her overachieving parents had hammered that into her since she was a child. By the end of the summer, she would finally be Dr. Sienna King, and she could erase the mental image of her parents’ disappointed faces during her dissertation defense out of her mind. 

*

Two days later, Joel stood before her outside the children’s nursery at Millennial House of Praise, begging Sienna for assistance. If it had been anyone other than him, Sienna would have said yes; that’s what he believed. But Sienna had dubbed him the most annoying man in Swallow’s Creek. For the past twenty-four years, she had treated him like a gnat, an irritant, and for the most part, Joel was fine with it. Except for now. He needed her help.

Badly.

Joel raked his fingers through his locks. He needed a haircut, a shave…and some sleep. None of which he could do because of an eight-pound invasion in his life. His nephew had spent almost all of the past forty-eight hours crying. Micah cried until his voice was hoarse, but Joel couldn’t get him to eat. Not that Joel had told his brother any of that. For Greg, Joel had been upbeat, assuring him that he had everything under control.

This morning, he woke up realizing he needed to be in church for two reasons: his brother needed prayers, and the church had a nursery. Free day care. Joel had gotten himself and Micah dressed in under thirty minutes and rushed through the door. He figured someone there could refer him to a nanny. There were three childcare centers in town and all were at capacity, including the two in-home day cares that he had called. He needed to find someone to care for his nephew while he worked. Fast.

He hadn’t expected to bump into the full-figured beauty inside the nursery. For a moment, it irked him that they seemed to be in each other’s faces of late. 

Actually… Sienna might be the ideal person to ask to watch Micah. She had already bonded with him, plus school was out and she wasn’t running the church’s summer camp this year. Joel wasn’t a member of the church, but he knew the church was renovating this summer. The more he thought about it, the more idea held appeal.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose and decided to ask. “Would you be interested in watching Micah for me?”

Sienna ran her long nails—blinged-out with gems and pink tips—through her long braids. “Isn’t there anyone else you can ask?” she whispered, mindful of the four sleeping babies in her charge, one of whom was Micah. She gestured for Joel to meet her outside so they could talk.

As soon as they were in the hallway, Joel continued. “I wouldn’t ask if I weren’t desperate. I can tell Micah likes you, and you were amazing with him during the plane ride.” It took a lot for Joel to confess that Sienna was better than him at something.

Micah had fussed for a good portion of the second flight and was resting his head on Sienna’s chest while she hummed a tune Joel didn’t recognize. It was the only thing that soothed him. If not for her, Joel was certain he wouldn’t have survived the journey home. 

She lifted her chin and bragged, “That’s because Micah knows I’m good people. I’ve heard that babies can sense the true nature of those around them.”

He clenched his teeth. “That’s ridiculous. He likes me as well. I’m sure I’ll get the hang of it soon enough.”

“Well, then you don’t need me.” She started to turn away, but he touched her arm.

He warned his wayward tongue that now wasn’t the time for a verbal sparring and backtracked. “I didn’t mean that. You’re way better with Micah than I am. For now.” He wiped his brow with the back of his hand and forced a smile on his face.

“Watching him for a few hours isn’t the same as watching him all day.” Her deep dimples appeared as she emphasized her point.

He tried to hold on to his patience. “You’d be helping out a friend.” Joel knew Sienna hated when he teased her by calling her his friend.

She bristled. “Please. Don’t get it twisted. You and I are nowhere near being friends. I tolerate you. There’s a difference.”

“We’ve known each other for over two decades. We’re practically family.”

Sienna pulled her orange cardigan close to her chest. “I can’t with you.”

“It’s a paid gig,” he said. Sienna was feisty, but she was also one of the most caring individuals he knew to everyone but him. Maybe it was time he explained everything. Maybe then she would help. “My boss, Skip, is retiring in a year, and I’ve just been promoted to associate editor at the newspaper. The plan is for me to move into his position—which is a massive accomplishment at only thirty-one—so I’ll be taking on more tasks. There’s no way I’m going to be able to juggle my schedule and take care of Micah. My brother’s wife is in critical condition, and I can’t have Micah neglected.” He clasped his hands. “I’m not too proud to admit I’m overwhelmed.”

“You mean to tell me that there’s something Mr. Perfect SAT can’t do?”

His left eye ticked. “I wish you’d stop bringing that up. It’s a score. A fluke.”

“Of course you’d say that. Some of us had to pull all-nighters to get a good score.”

“Let’s not get offtrack.” Joel then asked, “Will you watch Micah for me? It’s only for a few weeks.”

Sienna’s brown eyes softened. “I didn’t get all that education to be a glorified nanny.” She smoothed out her striped dress.

Her tone indicated that she was on the verge of relenting. Joel drew close. “Picture Micah’s little face. You can’t leave him in the hands of his unskilled uncle. He won’t survive.” He wiped his hands on his slacks, his heart pounding while he waited for her response.

“You don’t play fair.” Then her lips quirked. “The little guy is adorable. I’ve got to admit, he’s hard to resist. I’ll think about it. That’s the best I can do.” She touched his arm briefly. “Did you get his stuff yet?”

“Neither Kelsey nor Jade were available to help me. But if you give me a list, I’ll go get everything after the service.” He could hear the praise music starting up in the sanctuary. A few parishioners walked by, and he gave them a wave, ignoring their curious stares.

She appeared to wrestle with herself before she emitted a huge sigh. “Fine. I’ll go with you. Meet me at my apartment, and we’ll go get everything he needs. Do you know where I live?”

The fear around his chest calmed. “Thank you. Thank you. And, yes, I do know where to find you.”

“Just so we’re clear, if I did take the nanny gig, I’d be doing it for Micah. Not you.”

He chuckled. “Fair enough. I’ll be Micah’s mouthpiece and utter a big thank-you for even thinking about it.” He moved to give her a hug just to annoy her, but Sienna brushed him off.

“Keep your distance. I’m saving all my hugs for Micah.”

With a laugh, Joel gave her a thumbs-up and walked toward the sanctuary, his steps light. For the first time since his brother had reached out for his help, Joel felt hopeful. One thing he knew about Sienna was that she did nothing by half measures; he was sure his wallet would see proof of that later. But Joel had no problem parting with his funds—that, he could handle. Money was uncomplicated. Taking care of Micah’s emotional needs was what terrified him. But Sienna’s presence could take care of that. Between his money and her heart, Micah would be fine. He just needed her to commit.

Chapter Two

“These people are taking the whole a June bride is a bride for life thing way too serious,” Sienna mumbled. She had just gotten in from church and changed into a pair of white jeans, a pink T-shirt and her pink-and-white Chuck Taylors when she decided to check her calendar. She had not one, not two, but three weddings to attend this summer, and the first was a little over a week away. She groaned.

Kelsey was battling morning sickness, and Jade hadn’t been invited, so she would be going solo. Ugh. She didn’t relish getting hit on because the men would think she was lonely without a plus one.

Her stomach grumbled, so she made her way into the kitchen of her two-bedroom apartment, which had been decorated with a checkered theme. Sienna had added green accents to brighten the room. She raised the blinds to let sunlight inside and opened her refrigerator to see almost-bare shelves. She needed to go grocery shopping. Next, Sienna searched her pantry for her cheese crackers. Then she remembered she had tossed her expired snacks before going to Shreveport. But, she had bought an apple at the airport that she hadn’t eaten.

After digging the apple out of her travel bag, she washed it, took a bite and checked her cell phone. Joel had texted that he was on his way. Her stomach quivered at the thought of seeing the little munchkin again. She wouldn’t admit it, but she had held Micah a little longer than necessary in the church nursery. Maybe it was because his mother was far away in a hospital, but she’d bonded with him instantaneously. His little finger curling around hers had warmed her heart.

Watching Micah wouldn’t be an inconvenience. In fact, it would give her a real dose of motherhood. Would it be enough to cure her? Or would it leave her craving more? She drew in a breath. There was only one way to find out.

Her cell phone vibrated, and she checked the screen. Seeing it was her mother on FaceTime, Sienna prayed for patience. She tapped Accept. “Before you say anything, I’ve been studying around the clock, Mom. I’m sure I’ll pass the defense next time.”

Her mother, Daphne, frowned. “You shouldn’t have had to do a second defense. But that’s not why I called.”

Sienna squinted, wrinkling her nose. “Are you okay?” Her mother’s brown skin was beaded with sweat, and she seemed out of breath. Sienna was her mini-me in every way, except Daphne was slender and Sienna was full-figured. Her mother never made Sienna’s weight an issue—but in everything else, she was unrelenting.

Daphne waved a hand. “Yes. Don’t try to change the subject. Your father and I have found the perfect man for you. He’s a surgeon and single.”

“What about ‘education before love’?” Sienna reminded her.

Daphne shrugged. “I think it’s time for a new outlook. It would please us if you met him.”

“Hmm… We’ll see. I have to get going. I’ll talk to you later, Mom.” Sienna blew a kiss and ended the call. Her chest heaved. It was bad enough her parents tried to dictate her every move; now her mother was interfering in her love life. Her nonexistent-by-choice love life. Sienna wasn’t having that. If she knew her parents, this was just the beginning. She had to find a way to thwart their intentions, or she would cave. Try to please them, even though experience had shown her countless times that was impossible. She should have just said she was already dating someone. That would’ve put a stop to it.

After finishing her apple, Sienna tossed the remnants in the trash and washed her hands. Her cell phone chimed; Joel was in the parking lot. She grabbed her purse and made her way down the stairs. Since she hadn’t been able to snag a first-floor apartment, she liked the convenience of being near the staircase by the parking lot. Before getting in Joel’s shiny new Jeep, she opened the rear passenger door to look at Micah in his car seat. His head was tilted, and his big brown eyes were pinned on her. Even though he was a newborn, he had a lot of curls—part of his Native American heritage—like his uncle. Both Joel’s parents had Black and Native American heritage, and those traits had passed on to both generations.

She touched the infant’s legs—“Hey, Micah.” Realizing Joel waited for her, she closed the door and got in the front the seat. She greeted Joel. He had changed into a pair of dark blue jeans and a blue T-shirt with the word Shreveport imprinted across the chest. Just then, her stomach growled. “Did you eat yet?”

He shook his head. “No. I didn’t want to keep you waiting.”

“I didn’t eat anything either. Can we hit up the drive-through?”

“Sure.” He exited the lot. “Where do you think you want to eat?”

“I can call and order pretzels and lemonades from Patty’s, and we can grab and go. How does that sound?”

“Perfect. Patty’s lemonades are the truth.” Joel turned toward the direction of Patty’s Pretzels. He hummed a praise tune under his breath that sounded like “Way Maker,” which was one of the songs the team had sung earlier in the service. His voice was low, but it sounded like he could hold a tune. For a second, Sienna was tempted to join in, but she held back. It wasn’t that kind of a party. She tapped her chin. But…Joel might be the perfect solution to quash her parents’ matchmaking attempts. Even as the thought came, she rejected it. Sienna didn’t know if she could do anything that put her in Joel’s presence on purpose, and her parents would want to meet him.

Squinting against the sun’s glare, she pulled down the visor before searching in her purse for her sunglasses. She made a mental note to get visors for the rear windows. “Have you heard from your brother?” she asked once she had called in their meals.

“Yes, he called last night. Tessa is in a coma. She hemorrhaged, and that’s why Greg had to rush her to the hospital. He said they had to do a transfusion.”

She gasped, then touched Joel’s arm. “I’m sorry to hear that.” That bit of news helped her decide on Micah’s care. “Well, the next time you speak to him. You let him know that his son is in good hands—mine. And I’ll add her to my prayer list.”

Joel looked over at her briefly before returning his attention to the road. “Thank you. Thank you. You don’t know how much this means to me. You’re good people, Sienna King.”

For some reason, his words of esteem made her cheeks warm. “I’m happy to help your brother out during his time of need.” She was surprised to find how much she meant it.

“Great. Let’s talk money.” As he pulled into the parking lot for Patty’s Pretzels, he rattled off a number that made her brows rise to her forehead. Sienna directed him to park at the pick-up spot marked number three. One of the workers would bring out their food.

“Are you related to the Rockefellers or the Vanderbilts?”

“I minored in accounting and I’ve been investing my money since my teens. Without telling you my business, I have enough to retire right now if I choose. But I love my job, so…”

Figures. “I don’t need that much money.” Turning her head to check on Micah, Sienna relaxed when she saw he was asleep. She flicked dust off her white pants. “Actually, you don’t even have to pay me if you’d do me a favor.”

Putting the Jeep in Park, Joel faced her, his eyes wary. “What’s the favor?”

Sienna gave a laugh that sounded more like a shriek. “You don’t have to get suspicious.” She tapped his arm. “So relax.”

He leaned into his seat and pinned her with an intense gaze. “What do you need me to do?”

Resisting the urge to squirm, Sienna cleared her throat. “I have three weddings to attend, and I’d like you to be a buffer between me and the men who seem to think that because you’re single, you must be desperate.”

He lifted a brow. “We both know you can’t stand me, though I’ve done nothing to you. Why would you want to spend so much time with me? Even though I’m probably invited as well.”

“Because you’re convenient,” she rushed to explain. “And like you said, you’re most likely on the guest list.”

Joel shifted in his seat. “I want your help with Micah, but I don’t know if this is such a good idea. This is a small town, and everyone knows we can’t stand each other.”

“It would be a win-win for the both of us. Weddings and funerals can be chief hookup events. I’m not looking for anyone, and you would have someone to watch Micah anytime since I know news doesn’t just happen from nine to five.”

“You raise a good point. I hadn’t thought of that.” He mulled over her words and then tapped the wheel. “I’d be happy to be your pretend boo.”

“‘Pretend boo’?” She giggled and shoved his arm, causing him to jerk from the impact. “You are so silly.”

A young man headed their way with food bags, gesturing for Joel to roll down his window. Sienna started to retrieve her wallet, but Joel put up a hand to say he would pay. “I don’t need you to pay for my food,” she insisted.

“I don’t mind paying.”

By then, the youth was standing by the vehicle, waiting for payment.

Sienna huffed. “That’s not the point.”

Joel’s voice rose, causing Micah to stir. “Must we argue about everything?”

Sienna hated knowing Micah was getting upset because of their fussing, so she backed down and allowed Joel to settle the tab. She bit into her pretzel and allowed several tense seconds to pass. Then she asked, “For Micah’s sake, can we try to get along?”

“Can you not be so cantankerous? You bait me for no reason.”

It was true. She drew in a breath. “I’ll do better.” She gave him a side glance and returned to their previous conversation. “So do we have a deal?”

Joel sounded doubtful. “I don’t know, because all we do is bicker when we’re within five feet of each other. No one is going to believe we’re dating.”

She gritted her teeth. “We can be civil. I know we can.”

Joel chuckled, releasing the tension in the car. “If you say so.” Then he held out a fist. “All right, I’m in. The way I see it, I’m getting a bargain. I accompany a beautiful woman to a few weddings in exchange for babysitting services. That’s a no-brainer for me.”

She lowered her lashes and joked, “I do have to agree.” They shared a laugh. Sienna felt a pleasant sensation warm her insides, and she questioned why. He wasn’t the first man to compliment her, but he was the first to make her feel like a schoolgirl again in a long time.

*

Pushing a dolly behind Sienna’s cart—which carried Micah in his car seat and a few other items on her never-ending list—Joel made his way to the long checkout line. Within a minute or two of entering the baby section, Joel had known he was dealing with a retail professional. After Sienna had directed him to get a dolly, she then placed boxes containing a swing, bassinet, stroller, diapers, wipes, formula and bedding on top. Then she had added clothes, pacifiers, bottles, a bottle warmer and other stuff she declared essential.

Joel didn’t understand how an infant needed so many things. Sienna had assured him that she would help him organize everything, which was a major relief.

The cashier’s mouth dropped. “You guys waited until the last minute to shop for your baby, and now you’re paying for it.”

Sienna gave her an awkward laugh. “Yes, but our little Micah is well worth it.”

“I hear you.” The cashier proceeded to ring up their order.

She hadn’t corrected the young lady’s assumption about Micah’s parentage, and Joel figured he would have done the same. It would be too long of an explanation. Sienna had already suggested he donate the items to the women’s shelter once Micah returned home to his parents.

As he watched Sienna place items on the conveyor belt, her request for him to be her wedding date came to mind. He wondered why she wasn’t interested in dating and decided to ask her once they had packed everything into the Jeep.

“I have to focus on my dissertation,” she said. “And relationships are a lot of work that I don’t have time for right now—if ever.” Then she turned the question back on him. “What about you? I take it you’re not seeing anyone, or you wouldn’t have consented to be my fake date.”

“What does it matter?” he said, then remembered he needed her help, and tried to keep the agitation out of his voice. Something about her just always put him on edge. “Sorry about that. I… I’m not dating either. And, like you, I have no desire to date.”

“Why not?” She wiggled her eyebrows. “You’re one of Swallow’s Creek’s most eligible bachelors.”

He gave her the side-eye, knowing she was referring to his exposé on Zachary Johnson, her best friend, Kelsey’s, husband. “My boss made me do that. We sold a lot of papers that week.” Zachary, a widower at the time, had moved to town the year before and had captured the attention of Swallow’s Creek’s single ladies.

“So back to my question. If you’re not dating, it’s because you don’t want to?”

He shifted, uncomfortable with her question.

She chuckled. “I see you don’t like being interrogated either.”

Wiping a hand on his T-shirt, he said, “Like you, I’m busy with my career. Plus, I’m sure you heard my sad story from years ago.” Closing the rear gate, the conversation came to a halt until he was close to his home.

 “So, are you going to tell me the sad story?” Sienna asked, her brows furrowed. 

He slid a glance her way to see if she was being genuine. There were no secrets in Swallow’s Creek. She must have heard about his broken engagement, because it had been the subject of gossip for months. The fact that his fiancée had been of a different race seemed to only add fuel to the fire.

“There’s no need to pretend you don’t know about the disastrous fate of my relationship,” he said, pulling into this driveway. “It’s been about eight years. Believe me, I am over it—and her.”

Her mouth dropped. “I’d forgotten about that. How did I not remember that you got jilted?” Then she added, “I think I was away at school when I heard about it, but I don’t make it a point to keep track of your love life.” Her jab wasn’t lost on him.

He opened the door for her. “Well, I wasn’t left at the altar. Long story short, I was engaged, and my parents didn’t approve. Actually, my father didn’t. He offered Elizabeth money to break things off with me, and she took it. Left me a month before we were supposed to walk down the aisle.”

After pressing the button to open the rear gate, Joel grabbed the box with the bassinet and steeled himself for Sienna’s smart remarks. To his surprise, she touched his arm. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

He stilled. Their eyes locked before she looked away and fiddled with her braids.

“You surprise me. I thought you would be gloating at my past humiliation.”

“Wow. That stings.” Her voice caught. “I suppose I could see why you would think so, though.” She lowered her chin. Joel wanted to touch her cheek and reassure her that it was okay. But rehashing his past had caused a surprising pang in his heart.

“Let’s get Micah inside.” He headed up his driveway to open the front door while Sienna popped the carrier out of the car seat. When she entered his home, she wouldn’t meet his eyes. 

Taking Micah out of the carrier, Sienna laid him down on the sofa and dug into his diaper bag for a diaper. Joel didn’t want things to be weird between them. “Sienna, I’m used to you snapping at me, and I’m just as quick with the comebacks. It’s what we do, what we’ve always done. I just assumed that when you brought up the topic, it was more of the same.” He pried open the box so he could set up the bassinet. Micah had slept with him in his king-size bed the night before, and Joel had been afraid of rolling on top of him.

She looked at him and shook her head. “I wouldn’t make fun of something like that. What she did to you was horrible. Forgive me for saying this, but your father’s actions were reprehensible too.” Sienna’s eyes flashed. “What kind of parent does that to their child?” Her tone mirrored the disgust he felt.

Joel took a step back. Sienna asked the question that had plagued him for months after the incident. It had driven a deep wedge between him and his parents because his mother had defended his father’s actions. She hadn’t agreed with his wanting to marry a white woman. His heart constricted when he thought about the almost nonexistent relationship he’d had with his mother right before his parents passed. In a low voice, he said, “Not everyone was meant to be a parent.”

“I wish I didn’t know firsthand that you spoke the truth,” Sienna said, seemingly more to herself than him. Joel paused. It appeared as if they might have something in common. He wanted to delve into that but decided not to press her for details. Instead, he busied himself with getting the rest of the baby stuff out of his Jeep. He and Sienna then assembled Micah’s room, decorating it with an elephant theme. Joel had chosen the smaller of the two bedrooms closest to the master bedroom.

Next, Sienna walked him through how to change Micah’s diaper properly as well as how to prepare his formula. But in the back of his mind, Joel played back her softly spoken words. He and Sienna were natural adversaries. Joel had never once considered that they shared anything in common or that they could complete a task without arguing. Whenever he was in Sienna’s presence, Joel steeled himself against the insults she would toss out, and he was always seeking a way out. But that evening, once they were done with Micah’s room, they shared a pizza together and watched Micah sleep, and he regretted it when their time came to an end and Sienna went home.

How weird was that?

Chapter Three

“So let me see if I’ve got this right,” Kelsey said, seated at the kitchen table in Joel’s home. The table was a deep-espresso color, with a bench on one side. “You are spending your much-needed summer vacation to be a nanny for Joel’s nephew? Why didn’t you refer him to someone else?”

“It’s only for a month or so. I took the job because I like Micah. That sweet face is hard to resist.” She pulled back instinctively when Kelsey reached over to touch her forehead. Her brows furrowed. “What are you doing?”

“I’m checking to see if you have a fever.”

Jade laughed. “Does she? Because I never thought I’d see the day when Sienna talks about Joel without an ounce of animosity.”

“He’s not that bad…” Sienna trailed off. She noted the shocked looks on her friends’ faces. The three friends got together every other Sunday for fellowship and to catch up on their lives. They usually rotated at one another’s houses, but Sienna had asked for their meeting this Sunday to be at Joel’s house since she would be watching Micah.

She turned up the baby monitor. “Can you two be serious for one moment? We need to get our devotions finished before Micah wakes up.” Joel had called Sienna early that morning to ask if she could watch Micah because he had a robbery turned arson at Mr. MacGrady’s he had to cover for the paper.

Mr. MacGrady’s was a local diner that had become a staple in their town; Sienna and her friends frequented there often. They even had their favorite booth. Sienna had rushed over in her pajamas and had gotten dressed in a plaid jumpsuit and cardigan in Joel’s spare room. She didn’t share that tidbit of information with her friends, though.

Jade shifted, causing her bright yellow earrings to sway. She was dressed in a yellow romper and had coordinated her jewelry perfectly. “Forgive us if our brains are too full with this juicy development to concentrate.”

“Yeah. You’d better take the ribbing, because you were the chief instigator back when I was dating Zachary.” Kelsey gave her a light jab. Sienna noted her friend’s thin fingers, and her heart squeezed. Kelsey had been suffering from terrible morning sickness and had developed anemia. As a result, she wore a light sweater over her T-shirt and leggings to keep warm.

Sienna folded her arms. “Well, this is different. It was obvious that you and Zachary had chemistry. Joel and I can barely stand to be in each other’s presence.” A flash of them eating pizza and setting up Micah’s room came to mind, disproving her words.

“Oh, but you seem to be adjusting just fine.” Jade waggled her eyebrows “After all, pretend dating is still dating.”

“I predict Sienna and Joel are going to be at each other’s throats before the end of the week,” Kelsey said. “You can’t be around each other without bickering.”

Sienna couldn’t hold back her laugh. “You two are a mess. Joel and I called a truce. We’re mature enough to put aside our differences and focus on Micah.” She drummed her fingers on the table. “We both want the best for Micah, and we’re capable of behaving like the professionals we are.”

Kelsey scoffed. “Huh. I’ll believe when I see it.”

“I have my own prediction. After a month, Joel and I will come out unscathed and without a single argument.” On the inside, she gasped. Was her competitive nature the reason for that bold statement? Maybe she should amend it to something like, less than five arguments?

“Mark my words—you won’t last a day. Make that an hour,” Kelsey said with a pointed stare.

“Whatever. You’ll see.”

The women moved on with their devotions. Sienna asked for prayers for Joel’s brother and sister-in-law, and of course, they prayed for Micah. Just as their prayers ended, Sienna’s phone buzzed. Coming home for lunch. Can I grab you something? She smiled.

She replied, Sure. I’ll take a turkey sandwich and a diet cola. Thanks. After she hit Send, Sienna looked up to see Jade’s and Kelsey’s mouths hanging open. “What?” She rolled her eyes. “Don’t go reading anything into that.”

“You two seem so…domesticated,” Kelsey taunted.

Sienna rolled her eyes again, then shifted the conversation. “Watching Micah will be a welcome respite while I revise my dissertation. I plan to work on it during the times when he’s sleeping.”

“Take it easy on yourself.” Jade’s eyes held sympathy. Sienna knew her friend was thinking about her blunder during her dissertation defense.

But she couldn’t. She couldn’t take it easy when that error had been the biggest of her life. Just thinking about how she had gone blank and spewed incorrect facts made Sienna squirm with shame. She nodded, unable to meet Jade’s sympathetic eyes. She hated that she’d messed up. Failed. Her mortification had been magnified by her parents’ presence. She could still see their stern faces. If it weren’t for Kelsey and Jade, Sienna didn’t know how she would have finished her last days at work. Unbeknownst to Sienna at the time, her principal and team had planned a huge celebration. Her friends had made sure to alert her coworkers, even showing up at her school the next day to “volunteer” in her classroom, just to check on her.

“You’ve got this,” Kelsey cheered before slapping a hand over her mouth and rushing to the bathroom.

Both she and Jade rushed to help Kelsey. Jade placed a cool cloth on Kelsey’s forehead, and Sienna made some tea. She had just finished pouring Kelsey a cup when Joel popped in through the door. He was covered in soot from head to toe.

*

He felt the heat of three pairs of eyes. Joel shifted uncomfortably, knowing he looked worse than he felt. Whoever had robbed Mr. MacGrady’s had also set fire to the bathroom, and Joel had volunteered to help with the cleanup. He wasn’t used to coming home to anyone and hadn’t considered the picture he presented when he walked through the door.

Sienna wrinkled her nose. “You look terrible. Why did you come through the front door? You should have entered through the garage.”

“I…uh…” Joel took a step back, their lunch hanging from his hand. He looked around in disbelief. Jade’s eyes were popped wide open. Kelsey coughed, covering her mouth, but he could see her lips twitch. Then he addressed the sassiest of the women. “Last I checked, the deed was in my name only.” He expected her to back off or apologize, but this was Sienna.

Raising her brows, she snapped back, “And last I checked, you have a newborn in this house who doesn’t have all his shots yet.” Then she shooed him outside. Yes—shooed him like he was a nuisance. The gall.

This time, her friends couldn’t hide their mirth, especially when, for some reason, Sienna flashed them a glance, “This isn’t an argument. It’s common sense.”

Joel’s left eye ticked at the common sense jab. It wasn’t like he was a real father. Micah had been in his care for less than a week. Nevertheless, he clamped his jaw and stomped outside, fuming. He was tired and hungry and wanted to eat, shower, and catch a nap. The garage door cracked open, and Jade stood in the doorway.

“Her delivery could use some polish,” Jade said, taking the bag from him. “But you know she means well.”

Joel gave a quick nod and went into the half bath to wash his face and hands. When he saw his reflection, he drew in a harsh breath. He was filthy. Even his beard was covered with soot. His anger subsided, and he acknowledged that Sienna was right. He hadn’t been thinking about his nephew’s welfare when he barged into the house. Joel darted upstairs to clean up and change his clothes. Then he approached Sienna and apologized. “You were right.”

He saw Kelsey and Jade eye each other with disbelief but kept his attention on Sienna.

With a quick nod, Sienna sniffed. “I’m sorry if I sound harsh, but I’m trying to care for the little guy.”

“I know you are,” Joel said.

She gestured to the table, where she had placed his lunch on a plate. Joel had ordered a Mexican rice bowl and salad. He slipped into the chair. Sienna made sure to remind him to bless his meal before eating. Her friends must have seen that as their cue to leave. The women hugged like they weren’t going to see each other again, though he knew they planned to get together in a couple of days for a movie night. He caught Kelsey and Jade giving Sienna warning glares before waving at him and going through the door.

Micah’s fiery defender looked penitent and unsure. She sat across from him, her head lowered. “While you were washing up, my friends pointed out that I was out of line.” Joel nodded as he took a sip of juice. Then she said, “I want to apologize for embarrassing you in front of my friends.”

He almost choked and began coughing on reflex. But he accepted her apology—especially since she seemed so sincere. Although this was so unlike the Sienna he knew. “It’s all good. I have thick skin,” he said.

“Great. We’re fully capable of being civil and communicating with decency.” She bit into her sandwich.

Joel chewed slowly. He had no idea how to react when she was behaving so oddly. “Who are you trying to convince?” he asked. “Me or you?”

“What I’m trying to say here is that I’m going to more respectful,” she snapped. “Why can’t you accept that instead of…” She stopped and drew in a few deep breaths. Then she took another bite of her sandwich, chewing and thinking.

“Just be you,” Joel said. “I like you just fine the way you are.”

Her lips quirked. This time she met his gaze with a challenging one of her own. “So you don’t think my mouth is like a razor?”

“Oh, I do. It’s sharp. But I prefer knowing how you feel upfront than having you gloss over your feelings with a fake smile.”

She released a sigh. “I’m so glad you said that, because biting my tongue around you would be hard work.”

He cracked up. “Good. Now you don’t have to. Besides, I’m going to need your humor when we attend these weddings together.”

Just then, Micah cried out, and Sienna rushed over to tend to him. Joel watched her move, concern etched across her face, and smiled. One thing he could say about Sienna was that spending time with her would never be dull. And though he would never admit it, being in her presence gave him a zing. A zest he didn’t know he had been missing.

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From the Swallow's Creek Series:Book 1: The Adoption SurpriseBook 2: Mother For A Month

Fans of Jennifer Weiner and Sunny Hostin will love this emotional dual-timeline novel about two former besties finding their way back to each other.

To heal their friendship, they’ll have to face their past.

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About the Book

Jewel Stone has it all—the perfect marriage, a bestselling author career, her dream home—or so she likes everyone to believe. But between her writer’s block and her husband losing his job, her picture-perfect life is in shambles. And inspiration just isn’t hitting…until she receives a call she never expected: her former best friend needs her help.

When Shelby Andrews wakes up in the hospital after a biking accident, she can’t remember the last twelve years. She knows she owns a bookstore on the beach, but she has no memory of Lacey, her nineteen-year-old adopted daughter who’s away for the summer. There’s only one person who can help Shelby through this—her bestie, Jewel.

With so many secrets and heartbreaks between them, Jewel and Shelby haven’t spoken in years. Yet Jewel can’t turn away from the friend who doesn’t remember their fallout. Besides, the best writing she’s ever done was with Shelby…

But when they learn Lacey’s really spending her summer searching for her birth parents, their tentative reunion might just unravel along with all of their secrets.

C h a p t e r 1

Excerpt from That Was Then by Jewel Stone

 The deleted prologue— April 7, 2006

Honey

The skyline was black tinged with purple as the waves lapped against the sands of Eagle Point Beach. All was peaceful, a stark contrast to the crowds of children and families frolicking during the day, but the calm waters were a shield for the fright wreaking havoc on her insides. Honey glanced toward the far end of the beach at a huge bonfire. The giggles and yells of college students living out their last hurrah before midterms began drifted to her.

With just the moonlight as a guide, Honey Graham and her best friend, Sugar Bean, crept up the steps of the landmark bookstore by the beach, hunched over, panicking at every groan of the wood. They had dressed in black sweat suits, jackets, boots, caps with their hair tucked underneath and, though it was pitch- dark, sunglasses.

“We’re missing all the fun,” Honey whined. “And I’m pretty sure I stepped on a crab.” Her top was soaked from perspiration brought on by the fear of being discovered.

“Would you hush? It was fun that got us into this mess in the first place,” Sugar whispered, holding a special package close to her chest. “You’re going to blow our cover. Besides, this was all your idea.”

“Yes, but anything seems doable in the daylight.” Even the most nefarious of plans. Especially those born out of desperation. Honey stepped on a loose board and froze as it creaked.

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Sugar said. “Might as well just sound out on the blowhorn that we’re here.” She held out the package to Honey.

“I— I can’t,” Honey said, lifting her hands. “If I take it, I might not have the courage to do this.”

Sugar released a drawn- out sigh. “We agreed.”

“I know.” Her lips trembled. She folded her long legs and sat on the wood. “But I’m scared.”

“Everything will be all right,” Sugar said, her voice gentle. But Honey could tell she was trying to be brave. She was just as terrified as Honey was. She had just as much to lose. Sugar put the package on Honey’s lap, a gesture of defiance, and squatted beside her.

Honey touched Sugar’s shoulder. “Is there another way?”

“I— I don’t . . .” Sugar grabbed Honey’s hand and pulled it to her chest. “My heart is beating so fast, I feel like I’m about to pass out.”

“Breathe. Breathe,” Honey huffed out. “I can’t have you falling apart, because I’m already a basket case.” “Too late,” Sugar said, a hitch in her voice.

Carefully, the friends hugged and rocked, crying,  consoling each other but making sure the box stayed upright. Head to head, they reassured each other. Everything will be all right. Honey swallowed the rising nausea. “If we’re going to do this, we have to do it now.” Resolute, she got to her feet and held out her free hand, ignoring her shaking legs.

“O- okay.” Sugar stood. She snatched Honey’s hand in hers, and they inched to the front door.

Honey covered her mouth and sobbed. “I didn’t know it would feel like this.”

“Me either.”

“Should we leave it by the entrance?”

“No . . . How about on the bench?”

“What if it falls? Or it rains?”

“I— I don’t know what to do,” Sugar rasped, sounding like she had chewed the end of her last rope. “There was no forecast of rain and the skies are clear.”

Honey wiped her brow. She wished they had planned out this part because the uncertainty made her want to heave. “Let’s leave the box by the plants in the back.” As soon as she suggested that, Honey knew it wasn’t the right solution.

“What if no one sees it? Or an animal comes by and messes with it?” Sugar wrapped her arms around herself. “We can’t chance that happening. It’s better if we leave it by the door, knock and then hide and wait to make sure Ms. Brown sees it.” Ms. Brown was the sweet caretaker and new owner of the bookstore after Sugar’s parents had sold it to her last year. She’d been very kind to them, allowing them continued free rein of her property. She would know what to do.

“We didn’t give this enough thought, did we?”

“We didn’t know about it until mere hours ago. How else were we to prepare?” A light came on inside the bookstore. Panic shot through her system like a rabbit with a bobcat on its heels. Honey swallowed a shriek. Her heart rate went into overdrive. “Oh my goodness. Ms. Brown is coming. We’ve got to get out of here.”

“Put it down by the front door, and ring the doorbell. It’s the best place.”

Honey did just that, and then they gripped each other’s hands as they dashed toward the bush by the steps to hide crouched together. They could see a shadow approaching from the inside. Sugar trembled beside her. Honey couldn’t chastise her for it because her own body rattled so much her teeth chattered. They grabbed on to each other.

The porch light came on.

Emitting a moan, Sugar broke free and ran across the sand.

“Wait,” Honey whispered, furious. They were supposed to make sure the box was discovered. She bit her bottom lip, debating what to do. Sugar didn’t look backward. A sharp crack of thunder propelled Honey into action. Squaring her shoulders, she took off after her friend and grabbed her shoulders. “We can’t leave yet. We have to make sure.”

“I don’t want to get caught.” They stopped a few feet away.

“Then go without me.” Honey hunkered down behind the umbrellas and waited for Ms. Brown to discover the package. A few seconds later, Sugar dropped by her side. They gripped hands.

“Anybody there?” Ms. Brown called out. The girls’ bodies shook, but they didn’t dare take a breath. After calling out a few more times, Ms. Brown looked down at the package. “Oh 

my! What do we have here?”

Sugar gave Honey a tug. “Let’s go.”

Sugar

The next morning, huddled in the safety of Sugar’s bedroom in their campus apartment at the University of Delaware, both girls had their eyes glued to the morning news. Sugar’s heart pounded, and her eyes burned. She hadn’t slept that night out of fear that the police were going to come knocking on their door. In the two- hour ride back from Eagle Point Beach, she kept glancing through her rearview mirror for those flashing red and blue lights. It had taken some cajoling on her part, but Honey had slept about an hour, her head on Sugar’s lap.

Suddenly, the camera operator zoomed in, and the announcer’s smile transformed into a frown. Sugar leaned forward. “It’s on. It’s on.” Honey’s chest heaved, and her eyes held fear. In her haste, Sugar almost dropped the remote before she turned up the volume.

As soon as the tagline filled the screen, Sugar’s breakfast soured in her gut. “I can’t watch this.” With her hand over her mouth, she raced into the bathroom and upchucked the omelet she’d had delivered. She glanced in the mirror at her matted hair and reddened, sunken eyes and shook her head. She couldn’t go to work today and pretend her world hadn’t been shaken off its axis. After washing her hands, she brushed her teeth, while she considered an appropriate excuse that wouldn’t get her fired. As it was, she had missed work yesterday. And quite a few other days. This wasn’t like before. She needed a job.

A loud screech echoed from the other room.

“What’s going on?” Sugar yelled, her heart rate at a crescendo. “They have a video.”

“No. No. No.” Hands on her tummy, she scurried back and forced herself to look at the twenty- six- inch screen. All she could see were shadows. She squinted. With the outfits they’d worn, it was hard to tell their builds. “It’s murky, grainy. They can’t decipher anything.”

Honey sniffled as the tears poured down her face. “What have we done? Oh Lord, what have we done?”

She shuffled over to her hug her friend, her body tremoring as deep fear spread through her. “W- we just h- have to s- stay calm.”

“Someone will know it was us.” Honey wrestled out of her arms. “Maybe . . . maybe we need to turn ourselves in. They might go easy on us if we act now.”

“W- we can’t. We agreed. We made a pact.”

Honey’s lip trembled. “Yes, but . . .” She touched her abdomen. “I didn’t expect the guilt to tear through my stomach like acid.” Every time she closed her eyes, she saw that innocent face peering back at her.

“I didn’t either.” Sugar cupped Honey’s cheeks with her hands. “It was a cryptic pregnancy. No one could tell. All we have to do is keep quiet.”

Grabbing her hands, Honey repeated, “All we have to do is keep quiet.”

They recited those eight words until they believed them. Their secret bound them tighter as the days flew by, each praying the news would die down. But within hours, it made national news.

Everybody was talking about the Baby Abandoned at the Bookstore on Eagle Point Beach. The phrase danced across the screens, haunting them. Those words became a hollow drum constantly beating in their ears in the days to come.

Yet the friends didn’t break because they had each other. They consoled each other and squeezed their lips shut, their pact a tightly woven cord bringing them closer and closer.

Until eventually, eventually, there was nothing but blessed silence . . .

Jewel 

Summer 2024

Sitting up in bed with her laptop on her thighs and her husband asleep next to her, Jewel McRae, known to the world as Jewel Stone, closed out the deleted scene of her debut novel, That Was Then, and leaned back onto the headboard. She’d just received word her book was going to be made into a series on a major network, and they wanted her on set as a consultant when they went into production next summer, which was why she was rereading the book. It was a chore, but fortunately, years had passed since its release, and it was all new to her again.

The network planned to create at least two seasons, so she was reading through her very first draft that even her agent and editor had never seen. It included about 17,000 words that were later cut, including the baby storyline. Her editor had never read that juicy subplot, and if Jewel continued to have her way, nobody ever would.

Honestly, though it was tedious work, the book- to- series was quite an accomplishment and a cause for celebration. Her followers were on social media posting memes and making actor suggestions.

But her celebration was bittersweet. The one person she wanted to share this with, her best friend since childhood, was no longer a friend. And the contents of this book were a part of the reason. Especially the deleted contents. Jewel didn’t have the courage to share her truth with anyone, especially the man asleep next to her.

Releasing a huge sigh, she placed the laptop on her nightstand and massaged the back of her neck. With a yawn, she settled under the covers, and her final thought before fading out was I miss my friend.

 

C h a p t e r 2

 

Shelby

June 3, 2025

The moment she’d dreaded had finally come. Only Shelby 

Andrews hadn’t envisioned that it would happen in her eight- year- old sedan sitting outside her daughter’s best friend’s condo.

Shelby and Lacey had shared a pleasant two- hour drive from Lacey’s apartment building in Wilmington, Delaware, to Rehoboth Beach where she would spend the rest of the summer. They had eaten ice cream while singing along to Beyoncé’s “Cowboy Carter” at the top of their lungs, celebrating another successful year at the University of Delaware. But right after she kissed her daughter goodbye, Lacey had cracked the door open then broached the subject Shelby feared most.

“Mom, please don’t get mad, but I want to revisit the topic of finding my birth parents,” she said, oblivious to the dry heat slithering into the cab, warring with the cool air. Shelby was glad she’d wrapped her waist- length hair in a bun because the heat was intense.

Terror curdled the dairy in her stomach. She brushed a piece of cone off her teal shirt that served as a nice contrast to her sand- toned skin. “I thought you were done with it after that DNA Ancestry kit only led to some distant cousins. None of them had any viable information that you could use.”

“Yes, but I can’t lose hope that my parents might decide to look for me.”

Shelby squared her shoulders. “And what if your birth parents don’t want to be found?”

Lacey sucked in a breath and slammed the door closed.

Exhaling, Shelby reached over to hold Lacey’s hand. “Honey, I know I sound harsh, but I don’t want you disappointed if things don’t go the way you’d like. I think you should redirect your focus back to your studies. You’re about to start your third year, and you don’t need any distractions.” As soon as she said that, Shelby regretted her choice of words, but in all fairness, Lacey had caught her off guard. Sure enough, Lacey took umbrage. As she should. She pulled her hand out of Shelby’s grasp and tucked it close to her chest.

“Distractions? Really? That’s what you’re calling my need to find out who I am?” She banged the door shut and glared at Shelby. Their close relationship had been forged over their love of the beach and books, but over the past six months Lacey’s desire to search out her bio family had become a serious source of contention between them.

Shelby didn’t fully get it. She gave Lacey her heart and everything she could want. Her daughter had a great home, a great life, great friends. She tried to compensate as best as she could to fill that gap. Why couldn’t Lacey just let this go and be happy?

“I can tell you who you are. You’re my tenacious, driven daughter who is rocking college by being on the dean’s honor list every semester.” Her attempt at humor fell flat. “I’m sorry. Distraction was a poor choice of words. I didn’t mean it that way.” Lacey placed a hand on Shelby’s arm. “Thanks for apologizing. Mom, I get that you’re scared, but it’s not like you’re going to lose me. I love you, so there’s no chance of that happening.”

Oh, there was a 99.9 percent chance that Lacey would turn her back on Shelby if she learned the truth, which was why Shelby had to make sure that never happened.

Shelby gripped the wheel. She had a valid reason, albeit a selfish one, why she didn’t need her daughter digging into her past. Every time Lacey brought it up, Shelby’s heart hammered with fear. That was something she could be honest about. “You’re right. I’m just . . . afraid. You don’t understand. You’re all I’ve got.”

She bit her lower lip, hating her blatant use of emotional blackmail, but since losing her parents and then falling out with her best friend, Lacey was the only person Shelby had opened her heart to. From the moment eight- year- old Lacey had come into Shelby’s bookstore with her foster parents, Shelby had been drawn the child with skin the color of sepia, deep brown thoughtful eyes, thick lustrous curls that fell midback, faint dimples and a smile that brightened her entire face when they talked about books. Their bond had been instant, and that grew into love, and all Shelby wanted to do was to keep Lacey sheltered from the ugly truth surrounding her existence.

“See, that shouldn’t be the case,” Lacey admonished, her tone gentle. “You need to socialize and make friends. I can’t be your whole world, Mom. You have to have your own life. Just as you’ve always encouraged me to have mine. Anything that I’ve wanted to do, you’ve been my biggest supporter, and I love you for that, which is why I’m stumped that you’re so against me finding my family.”

“You aren’t my whole world per se. Just a big chunk of my focus right now.” Shelby waved a hand. “And I do have a life outside of you. I have the bookstore, and I’ve joined the cycling club.”

“You don’t know how relieved I am that you did. How many times I picture you at home all alone like a hermit while I’m up here living it up with Bea and my friends.”

Shelby smiled. She had been the one responsible for introducing a shy Lacey to the gregarious Bea Bennett. From then, the girls had been as close as conjoined twins, attending the same high school and then university together. Their friendship was parallel to Shelby’s own relationship to her former best friend, Jewel Stone. They too had been inseparable— until the day Shelby made a choice Jewel couldn’t live with. She glanced over at Lacey. A choice she would make again with no regrets. Though, she did miss her friend something fierce.

“I’m not a hermit. I’m just picky about my friends.”

“Yeah, as in you don’t have any.” Lacey gave her hand a squeeze. “Close ones, I mean. You talk to a lot of people and you’re friendly, but you don’t let anyone get close.”

Goose bumps spread across her arms at Lacey’s perceptiveness. It reminded her of . . . She shook that memory away. “I’m close to you,” she said instead, booping Lacey on the nose.

Lacey lifted her shoulders. “See? That’s exactly what I’m talking about. I can’t bear the brunt of your unhappiness.” Her cell phone buzzed. “Bea’s texting me.” Lacey’s fingers flew across the screen of her phone as she typed her response, giving Shelby a moment to mull on those words.

Whoa. Was that what she was doing to her child? Lacey was such a sensitive soul. She had to be mindful of that during their conversations.

Once Lacey had finished responding to Bea, Shelby used her best Mother tone. “Relax. Don’t worry about me. I’m perfectly fine taking care of myself. I was doing that long before you came into my life, and believe me when I say you’re not responsible for my happiness. I’m . . . content.”

“I know. But at least start dating or something.” Lacey chuckled, the relief in her tone evident. “You shouldn’t have any trouble getting hooked up. All you have to do is accentuate those high cheekbones with a little blush and add eyeliner to highlight your light brown eyes.” She narrowed her own. 

“Your lips are already pink enough, so just a light gloss would do and voilà! You don’t need much.”

She chuckled at her daughter’s description. Kendrick, one of the men from her cycling group, came to mind. He seemed kinda cute, and he was super friendly. He had even asked her out, or she thought he had, inviting her to try out a new cycling route with him and then maybe grab coffee after. That sounded datey, right? “I’ll think about it.”

“Which means no.” Her daughter sighed and opened the door again. “I’ve got to go, but I do want to continue talking about looking for my bio fam. It’s really important to me.”

Folding her lips into her mouth, Shelby reached over to give Lacey a hug. “We’ll have a long talk about it soon.”

After a reluctant nod, Lacey exited the vehicle. Shelby pulled off the curb, calling herself all kinds of horrid for trying to hinder her daughter from pursuing something that was her natural right as an adult. As a human. But she had to. To fail would implode the life she had built for them both, and the repercussions would be unimaginable.

ADRENALINE AND MOTIVATION KEPT SHELBY’S FEET ON the pedals as she pushed toward the finish line where she would clock in at thirty miles. Sweat poured from her face and back, her legs and thighs throbbed, but she gripped the handlebars of her bicycle and propelled herself to move even faster. After her encounter with Lacey earlier that day, riding with her cycling club was the perfect outlet for her pent- up frustration. She had sent her daughter a text to reach out when she was ready to talk, but Shelby had no idea what she could say to bring peace between them. Because there was no way she could give Lacey her blessing to find her birth family.

To do that would put every thing she held dear in jeopardy.

A quick backward glance showed she still maintained a 

significant lead on the rest of the team. Not bad, considering it had been less than a year since she had taken up this hobby. The only sound was the whizz of her bike as she sped past a deer poking its head out from the bushes.

Whew: 28.3 miles. Almost there.

She hunched her shoulders, the sun beating on her back. All she had to do was get around the curve. From ahead came the hum and throttle of a motorbike moving significantly under the speed limit. She put her head down and swerved into the other lane. Just as she did, her chain clunked.

Shelby looked down to see the metal trailing on the ground, her helmet shifting on her head with the movement. Just as she climbed off her bike to shimmy off the road, she heard a loud honk. She jerked her head up and gasped. A truck was heading toward her at full speed. She lifted her bike and rushed to the curb. A gush of wind rocked her body as the truck whooshed by, sliding into another lane.

“That was a close one,” Deena said, pulling up beside her, along with the rest of the crew. Shelby looked into the kind blue eyes of the woman before her and fought back frightened tears. When she’d first joined the club, Deena had tried to befriend her, inviting her to house parties. But Shelby always found a reason to refuse. Her daughter was right about her reticence: she was friendly, but she kept her distance. She had lost too much and wasn’t about to risk that happening again. 

She didn’t do friends. She didn’t do anyone. Not anymore.

What she did do was books.

Books were the perfect companion. Reliable. Her romances always had a happy ending, and her thrillers always ended with the bad guy dead or in handcuffs.

Shelby sank onto the grass, her fingers digging into the earth. One of the men picked up her road bike and took out a quick repair kit to fix her chain. Tears leaked from her eyes.

“You’ll be okay,” Deena encouraged.

She nodded and whispered, “Thank you.” Her voice was croaky.

Drawing deep breaths, she attempted to slow her racing heart. Before they’d left, the team had performed safety checks on their bikes, but there was no foreseeing the chain malfunctioning.

“Hey, you all right?” a deep male voice asked. One belonging to a man who gave her the shivers and who’d had her checking her hair, her breath and how her butt looked in her shorts before she left for a ride.

Her eyes popped open, and she peered into warm gold ones set against a rugged face. He had a five- o’clock shadow. Besides her, he was the only other Black person in her group. “Y- yes.” She straightened, almost bumping heads with his and dusted off her hair.

“Your bike’s ready if you’re good cycling back,” he said, holding out a hand. “The chain should hold.”

She ignored his hand and got to her feet. “I don’t have a choice.”

“You could call an Uber.” He sounded like that’s what he hoped she would do.

By that time, the other cyclists were on their bikes, waiting for her to make a decision. Shelby hated being an inconvenience. Of course, that was the moment they heard a crack of thunder, so she flailed her hands. “I’ll catch a ride back. Why don’t you all head off? Beat the rain.”

With a nod, the others took off except for her unwanted sidekick. Well, at least she told herself he was unwanted. Taking out her phone, she tapped on the rideshare app and chose the deluxe option.

“You don’t have to stay.” She looked down at the app tracker. “My ride will be here in less than five minutes.”

He gave her a wide smile. “I’d feel better if I waited. If something happened . . .” He shrugged, then chuckled. “Chivalry isn’t dead.”

A plop of rain hit her nose, and she tried again to get him to leave. “Thank you, but for real, though, I’ll feel bad if you get caught in a downpour because of me.”

Kendrick splayed his hands and showed her those straight, pearly whites. The man had a drop- your- drawers smile on him. And his chocolate skin was smooth and unmarred. “After a career in the military, this is nothing.”

She gave him the once- over, taking in those powerful legs, well- fitted shorts and the shirt clinging to that broad chest before she remembered she wasn’t interested in meeting anyone. Her vehicle approached so she gestured for him to get on his bike. The stubborn man waited and helped her load the bike in the trunk. Once she was seated, he left.

When she passed him on the way, Shelby kept her eyes on her phone, planting a fascinated look on her face. She did the same with the other cyclists, hunkering down in her seat.

It was pouring by the time she arrived back at the parking lot. She grabbed her bike out of the trunk and propped it against her sedan, hanging her helmet on the handle. Then she opened the trunk. But all she could think about was the 1.7 miles she had failed to finish. That equated to a couple minutes. Three, max.

She looked at her watch and debated. What she needed to do was get home, get showered and prep the bookstore for her Baby Boomers Book Club. Those ten women were her best customers, guaranteed weekly sales, and since her business wasn’t exactly thriving, Shelby didn’t mind staying open later for them. Which also reminded her, she needed to stop and pick up the pastries and juice.

She eyed her bike and threw up her hands. She had to get to thirty miles. Ugh. Why was she like this? The rain impeded her visibility, but she didn’t have to go far. Just to the stop sign she knew was down yonder, and she would be done.

Snatching the helmet, she strapped the buckle under her chin and got back on her bike. Then she pedaled as fast as she could, her eyes on the stop sign. Right as she approached the intersection, she pressed the brakes and gasped. Her brakes were out. She dropped her legs to the ground, her feet sliding on the slippery road. Reaching over, she grabbed on to the metal pole of the stop sign and tilted her body. She came to a rough halt and hit her knee. But she was good.

Releasing a breath, she looked at her tracker and pumped her fists. She had done it. She did a jig before she heard the sound of screeching. Shelby’s mouth dropped open. A vehicle was skidding toward her at rapid speed. She shook her head. No. No. This couldn’t be happening. Shelby tried to jump off the bike, but she knew it was already too late even as she raised her hands to use as shields, bracing for impact.

 

C h a p t e r 3

 

Lacey

June 6, 2025

Lacey Andrews had lied to her mom. What shocked her was how good she was at it, considering she had never been dishonest with her mother before. Well, she had told a fib or two— she forgot she had homework or a paper due— small- scale stuff like that. But never ever about the big things.

And telling your mother that you were just hanging at the beach with your bestie when you intended to play amateur sleuth was most definitely a big thing. Epic. Just thinking about it made her toes curl into the sand. She adjusted her straw hat lower on her head and crouched under the beach umbrella. The guilt had been messing with her equilibrium and her appetite over the past seventy- two hours.

She hadn’t posted on her YouTube channel in days. As a wannabe mukbanger, eating in abundance was a must. But though she was a foodie, Lacey didn’t have the stomach to back up her intentions. Try as she might, she had ended up dumping huge quantities of her meals into the trash. Still, she had about ten thousand people interested in watching her fail at mukbanging.

Her bestie, Bea, hobbled over to grab a towel from the chair beside her. “You really aren’t going into the water?”

“Eh.” Lacey shrugged, tapping her fingers on the handles of her beach chair. “I will.”

“Lacey, you are nineteen years old. Grown grown. Choosing not to divulge your activities to your parent is your prerogative. News flash. It’s called adulting.” This from the girl who called her own mother three times a day for every thing. If she stubbed her toe, Bea was calling her mother. Bea and Mrs. Bennett often spoke until her phone ran out of juice. Lacey hadn’t minded because she was close to her mother too. They were the best of friends. Up until a few months ago, there wasn’t anything she couldn’t confide to her mom.

She rolled her eyes at Bea. “What it is, is irresponsible. Childish, even.”

“But what other choice did you have? Your mom won’t help you find your birth parents, so you have to take matters into your own hands,” Bea said, rigorously drying her long blond tresses. She had the height and build of Bella Hadid, but Bea didn’t like being compared to the supermodel because she was her own woman.

“I know, but I don’t like lying to her that we’re having an easy- breezie summer when I’m not.”

“That was a necessary excursion away from the truth so we can search for your family without interference or hurting your mother’s feelings.”

Lacey winced. “No matter how you sugarcoat it, it doesn’t make it right.”

“It’s not exactly wrong either. Not every thing is black- and- white. We’re simply swerving into the gray.” She swayed back and forth, mimicking a skier.

“Really? Skiing in the summertime?”

She shrugged. “It’s snowing somewhere.” Then she ran her fingers through her strands. “Ugh, I am going to have to wash my hair at least three times to get all this gunk out of it.” She picked up her phone to call her mom and ask her opinion on what shampoo to get.

Lacey scooted off the chair while Bea yakked with her mother, partly because she had to use the restroom and partly because she was jealous. Bea gave a nod and a little wave, occupied with her convo. Lacey missed her mother, and no matter how Bea tried to justify her actions, her guilt grew by the minute. Maybe she should call to check on her mom.

Since it was late afternoon, her mom was probably out bike riding with her new cycling team or hosting the Baby Boomers Book Club at her store. So she would call her later.

When she returned, Bea was ready and waiting.

“How about we go see the concert on the beach tonight?” Bea asked, her green eyes earnest. There would be local bands playing and quite a spread from the nearby restaurants.

Lacey lifted her shoulders. “I kind of wanted to stay in and chill.”

“And we can do that. After.”

“All right . . .” She dragged the last syllable out, while Bea did a happy dance.

“Great. Let’s go home and get dressed. We won’t stay long. An hour or two tops,” Bea said. “The music will be the perfect distraction, you’ll see.”

The air had cooled, and the sounds of the band and ocean made for a pleasant summer night by the time they arrived at the makeshift party on the beach. Crowds of families and vacationers milled about, and though no one was allowed in the water due to currents, the lifeguards were out. As the evening yawned, she sipped on a virgin daiquiri, observing as Bea danced with two guys near the band, her little yellow dress bright and fun.

Lacey sat dressed in black under one of the umbrellas by the tiki lights, her eyes fixed on her phone. She had avoided eye contact with anyone who dared to talk to her and had eaten some Jamaican jerk chicken but would be hard- pressed to tell if it was good or not.

Glancing over at Bea who was looking her way, Lacey held up her hand and tapped her wrist, mouthing Thirty minutes. Bea gave a nod before gyrating her hips at one of the dudes. She was leaving right at the two- hour mark, with or without Bea.

A shadow loomed next to her. “Anyone sitting here?” She shook her head, willing him to go away. But no, he dropped into the seat on her right.

Ugh, the last thing she wanted was conversation. She curved her body to the left, making a point to bring up a YouTube channel. Maybe he would get the hint and leave. But dude didn’t know how to read body language or he was purposely being obtuse. Either of those reasons annoyed her. He tapped his fingers on the glass table and said, “The band is killing it.”

“Uh- huh.”

“That guy is playing that guitar like I’ve never seen it played before.”

“Hmm.” Closing her eyes, she prayed for patience.

“Um, I can see that I’m bothering you,” he said.

“Good observation.” The minute she uttered those words, she hated how rude she sounded, but she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from giving an apology.

“Never mind. Forget it.” The chair scraped as he stood. “I’ll catch up with you.”

It was the hurt in his voice that made Lacey lift her gaze and meet his eyes. She gasped, feeling sucker- punched. The guy before her was delicious. There wasn’t a better word to describe that bronzed smooth skin, the firm jaw and those large hazel eyes. Plus, judging by the red cross on his shorts and shirt, she would say he was a lifeguard. She scrambled to her feet and raked a hand through her curls. “Uh, I’m sorry, I . . .” She exhaled. “I have a lot on my mind, but that’s no excuse for my rudeness.” She held out her hand. “I’m Lacey.”

He studied her outstretched palm before placing his hand in hers. “I’m Mekhi James.” He smiled, revealing a deep dimple and beautiful set of straightened teeth. A faint electric shock buzzed where their palms met, and she smiled back. Her first smile in hours. Her mood lifted a bit.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She wasn’t about to unburden to a stranger about her desire to find her parents. Instead, she tossed her hair and gave a slight nod. Hang on. Was she low- key flirting right now? She had better not be. Lacey hadn’t come to Rehoboth Beach to find a hookup. She couldn’t afford to be distracted, so she needed to stop making goo- goo eyes at this stranger when she had her lies to her mother and her search to think about.

Still, as they held eye contact, something shifted between them. Something propulsive. The beating drums around them only added to the tension forming. What in the world was happening to her right now? This wasn’t the first cute guy to approach her, but it was the first time she had felt an instant attraction. A connection.

“Do you want to dance?” he asked.

She took a step toward him then froze. With a smile, he drew her into his arms. Their bodies aligned perfectly. Closing her eyes, she rested her head on his shoulder. His arms circled her back. They swayed to the music. He rocked his hips, and she moved in rhythm with him.

“Do you want to go somewhere a little quieter?” he asked, his voice deepening. He twisted one of her curls around his finger.

Her heart raced, her chest heaved and her mouth went dry. All the warnings her mother had given her when she had begun dating came back to her, but it didn’t feel like he was a stranger. Which was folly since she didn’t know anything about him other than his name and that he was fine as all get- out.

But her body was firing off some signals she wasn’t about to follow up on. She had had two bed partners, but those had been long- term boyfriends, and she was seriously tempted to make this guy her third. That knowledge jarred her.

It was off the charts scary.

Lacey pulled her hand out of his and wiped it on her shorts. “I’m sorry. I’ve got to go.” This could be her fears transposing into lust and jumping into bed with this man would be an unwise choice.

He held up his hands. “I meant just to talk.”

If he thought that was all that would happen if they went off somewhere on their own, then he was deluded. She wasn’t. 

“See you around.”

“Wait!” he called out, but she took off.

Lacey dashed across the sand and headed for the boardwalk, regret enunciating each step. Don’t turn back. Don’t look around. Just before she turned the corner, she did just that, surprised at the keen disappointment piercing her gut when she saw he was gone. She might never see him again. With a sigh, she began her short trek to the condo.

Meandering onto the end of the mile- long boardwalk with its eclectic shops, restaurants and family amusements, Lacey waved at Ms. Carlotta, the ice cream shop owner, before walking a block over to the row of condos behind the boardwalk. Prime real estate. Especially since the boardwalk hosted festivals and concerts and all sorts of activities year- round. There was never a bad time to come to the beach.

She made her way up the stairs and unlocked the door to the condo then went to use the restroom. After she had refreshed herself with a cool shower, Lacey stretched out on top of the bed under the ceiling fan. A blend of modern and antique, the condo had been designed to meet the needs of even the most demanding occupants.

According to Bea, her family had owned this place for decades. Kind of like Lacey’s mother and the bookstore at Eagle Point Beach. Her mom’s parents had acquired it years ago, but they’d had to sell it because of mismanagement of finances. As soon as she could, Shelby had purchased the bookstore back. Because of its location, it was probably worth a fortune. But her mother had no intentions of selling. In fact, she had put it in a trust for Lacey. Her only request was that Lacey never take a lien out on the store. Lacey had been touched by the gesture, especially since it was the bookstore that had brought them together.

She had been adopted as a baby, but the Brooks got in some trouble— Lacey wasn’t sure what exactly happened— and she had been taken from their home. She then entered the foster care system in Rehoboth Beach at age seven. The Smiths had been her third home, as she hadn’t thrived in the first two. Her social worker told her they would take care of her and they had, including introducing her to books.

And books had led her to Shelby.

The Smiths had fostered Lacey for two and a half years, and Miss Edna had taken her to the bookstore for many trips, which was where she met Shelby. Their love of books united them, and when her foster parents had to go out of town or needed a sitter, Shelby would volunteer to watch her. She was now the only family Lacey had.

Was she being ungrateful seeking out her blood relatives? Her mom didn’t understand what it was like to question your origins the way Lacey had been for the past year.

So it was either live in a constant state of uncertainty or dig for the truth herself— with Bea’s help, of course.

Once she was back inside and under her covers, she texted Bea.

I’m back at the condo. No need to rush.  Have a good time for the two of us.

Ciao. Don’t wait up.

Ok. Stay safe.

Always.

Resting her head against the headboard, Lacey closed her eyes and saw Mekhi’s face. Her body lamented her running off. Her eyes popped open. Gosh, why hadn’t she gotten his number at least? And why, oh why, was she thinking of some random meet- cute when she had bigger things to focus on?

Lacey scooted off her bed and decided to help herself to the Rita’s Island Fusion ice that they had purchased the night before. She had just finished the treat when the lock jangled and Bea walked in, leaving the door wide open.

“What are you still doing up?” Bea asked.

“I had a lot on my mind . . .”

Lacey clamped her jaw to keep from yelling at Bea for letting in the flies. She had already cautioned her friend a couple of times about it and didn’t want to nag. Or sound like her mother.

Bea tossed her straw hat on the table and wiped her face. “It’s hotter than a love scene in Bridgerton out there,” she declared, grabbing a spoon and reaching over to get a scoop of ice from out of the carton. “You just don’t know how much until you’re back under the cool air.”

Lacey smirked. “Then close that door before you let all the cool air out.”

“Yes, yes, I know.” Bea shut the door. “I forgot to get a flyswatter.”

“I ordered a couple from online already this morning. They should get here tomorrow before eleven.”

“Cool beans.” Bea picked up the remote and turned on the television. Lacey knew from experience that Bea hated silence. She needed white noise, as she called it. It reminded Lacey of the beauty salons or sports bars that had the televisions on at low volume with music blasting in the background. That’s why Lacey was so grateful this condo had more than one bedroom: she needed it dark and quiet to fall asleep.

What was funny was Bea would be on her cell phone the entire time the TV was on. Half the time she didn’t care for anything happening on the screen. There was no way Lacey’s mom would go for that. She’d would be squawking about the energy bill. But that was Bea.

“I’m going to take a shower,” Bea declared, wandering off to her room.

Lacey walked over to the couch and settled in, phone in hand, knowing regardless of what Bea said, it would be a while before Bea returned. She took ridiculously long showers, completely unconcerned about water shortages. Something Lacey’s mom had drilled into her to consider.

Her mother hated waste of any kind.

And Lacey had to agree on this one. It was a pet peeve but, again, this was Bea, which was why Lacey found it best to tune out the things she didn’t like and focus on the things she loved. Like Bea’s generosity and loyalty.

When Lacey told Bea about her quest to find her bio parents, Bea had been all- in. And Lacey was grateful because she couldn’t do this by herself. She only wished her mother was on board.

Lacey picked up her phone and scrolled to her last text message from her mom three days prior. I love you honey. Reach out when you’re ready to talk. Mom was waiting on her to respond. Waiting and hoping that Lacey had moved on from this distraction. Lacey raked a hand through her curls and groaned. A distraction. She wished she wasn’t so bothered by that word when her mother had apologized.

And what if your birth parents don’t want to be found?

The question was like a bear’s claw gnawing at her confidence. Flipping onto her back, she fisted her palms and stared at the ceiling. This quest was something Lacey felt compelled to do. She had to try. If she didn’t, she would regret it for the rest of her life.

Order Your Copy

Except from A SUMMER FOR THE BOOKS by Michelle Lindo-Rice. This material is protected by copyright.

Seven Brides for Seven Brothers Book #4
It was smooth sailingUntil they tied the knot. 

Order Your CopyAbout the BookWhen cruise ship assistant manager Kaylin Sampson is passed over for a promotion, she takes a break to regroup. And when her sexy ex offers to reignite their old fling and accompany her on an Alaskan adventure, Kaylin can’t say no. Ethan Harrington knows how to get her out of her funk. Fun is the theme for the week, down to the white water rafting and their fabulous old-timey fake wedding. Except the paperwork is genuine—and now two commitmentphobes are married. The real question is, will it be for better or for worse? 
Chapter One

Aug. 2
You’re the best worker we have, but…Once she’d heard the word but, Kaylin Sampson had tuned out most of her supervisor’s words. She had stood inside her supervisor’s office, gripping the back of the chair, having chosen to stand when Daniel Rawlston delivered the news that someone else had been granted the promotion as hospitality manager of the VIP suites on the cruise ship.After six years of unwavering commitment serving as assistant manager, never taking a sick day, except for the four weeks she had taken when her sister Courtney had given birth a couple months ago in June, Kaylin had been passed over for someone else because they had showed up to the interview with a portfolio. A portfolio outlining projected plans to improve customer relations.Are you kidding me? She’d wanted to hurl. A portfolio? But, ever the professional, she had planted a smile on her face, stuck out her hand and thanked Daniel and the team for the consideration.Then she had sailed out the door before she’d fallen apart.Whatever the selected candidate had brought in that binder had impressed the committee. So, though Kaylin had the experience, spoke four languages, and was the go-to person if there was an emergency on the ship, she would begin reporting to this new hire, Oksana Masterson, on August 21. Nineteen days.She sniffled to keep the tears of humiliation threatening to spill at bay then made her way to her living quarters while avoiding contact with her coworkers. She couldn’t bear to see the sympathy reflected in their eyes and she wasn’t ready for the trite words of consolation. Her peers knew how hard she had worked for this; how much she’d wanted this promotion; how much she actually deserved this job.Once inside her single cabin, she shut the door, kicked off her heels and drew in a deep breath. Taking a few steps into the small area, she tugged off her dark blue jacket with white polka dots, undid the buttons of her crisp white blouse and stepped out of the matching skirt.Kaylin plopped on the edge of the bed, rested her head in her hands and cried.She had really needed this win. Especially after the past month where she had practically broken two of her cardinal rules.Besides her younger sister, Courtney, and her nephew, Jayson, her career was the only thing in which she had a vested interest. She had learned to depend upon her capabilities from seven years old when she and her six-year-old sister had ended up in foster care due to their mother’s mental health struggles and resulting drug addiction. As a result, Courtney and Kaylin had made a pact never to fall in love, never to get married and never to have children. Courtney had broken all three rules, and while Kaylin was ecstatic for her sibling, she wasn’t about to detour from her life plan.That’s why when her fling with Ethan Harrington while visiting her sister in Love Creek, Florida, had derailed off the track of light and fun and veered onto that of a potential serious relationship, Kaylin had ended things abruptly. She had liked him way too much and she had had a minor scare where her period had been a couple weeks late. Talk about scared straight.Poor Ethan had been confused but Kaylin had run back to her safe zone—the cruise ship—and had buried herself in work, signing up for back-to-back cruises. As assistant manager, her main task was to ensure that the cruise ship ran effectively, which entailed overseeing the food and beverage, guest services, housekeeping and any other duties as assigned. Kaylin had done it all and then some. Yet even though she loved her nomadic existence, she craved stability.The VIP position would have given her that. A chance to do what she loved and develop longer-lasting friendships while still being at sea. But she had been passed over and she was expected to continue working this final day of the cruise with a smile on her face. Kaylin stood and looked out the porthole at the calm blue waters.They were due to dock soon in Fort Lauderdale, Florida.Above her, vacationers were getting in their last hours of fun or packing up their belongings or swiping through photos of the places they had been or the touristy things they had done. They were going home.Home.She didn’t have one anymore, having given up her apartment in Fort Lauderdale. It hadn’t been practical paying rent when she only spent an odd weekend here and there out of the month. But now she wished she hadn’t because she could have hibernated over the next few days without worrying about keeping up appearances. She could just…be.Kaylin wasn’t sure how long it would take for her to get over this loss. That was unusual; a direct contrast of the carefree attitude she liked to project.Her cell phone vibrated.It was her sister, Courtney, calling.“Hey, sis. How did the interview go?” she asked, her eyes glowing with newfound happiness. A few months earlier, Courtney had been a pregnant widow trying to make a life for herself and her child. But now she was the mother of a six-week-old baby, Jayson, and had a new fiancé in Brigg Harrington, Ethan’s brother. Dang, those Harrington men were hard to resist. Her heart had narrowly escaped unscathed.Before Kaylin could answer, Courtney said, “Hang on a minute. Let me get situated. I just put Jayson down for a nap.” She yawned. “That little guy kept me up all night.”“I bet he wasn’t the only one,” Kaylin teased. “I hope you’re taking your vitamins.”Courtney chuckled. “Yes, I’m still taking my prenatal vitamins.” The picture on the screen bounced as Courtney walked into her living room and settled onto the couch before turning off the television. “I’ll just put you right here on the coffee table so I can be hands-free. I’m on my iPad.” She released a breath. “Now, tell me all about this interview. When do you start?”Kaylin peered into features so similar to her own—copper curls, hazel eyes, full lips and high cheekbones—that they had been mistaken for twins many times over the years, though Kaylin was a year older at thirty-two. She’d had a brief stint over the summer where she had undergone a drastic change with her hair and makeup but she was now past that phase. “Ugh. It was a plane crash.” She had a habit of botching clichés on purpose. “They gave the job to someone else.”“Wow. Really? As much as Daniel has asked you to cover for him? I’m beyond surprised and upset on your behalf.”“I’m disappointed too. No, disheartened is a more accurate word for how I’m feeling right now.” Her chin wobbled. “There is no puffing my chest and carrying on, I tell you. This one bites.”“How about you come back to Love Creek, stay with me and Brigg, for a bit?”The idea was tempting but she didn’t want to intrude on Courtney and Brigg. They were in the throes of that new new love. Kaylin didn’t want to be a thundercloud among all that sunshine. She heaved a long sigh. “I can’t. I won’t be good company and I’m sure you and Brigg don’t need me afoot right now. You need to be enjoying each other.”Courtney fanned her reddened cheeks. “Oh, boy, have we been.” She raised a brow. “But you could visit Ethan while you’re here.”“Bought that book, read it and returned it to the library,” Kaylin said with a wave of the hand. Though her heart squeezed with a rare feeling of envy. Not for her sister. But at her sister’s blissful state. Kaylin wondered what it would be like if she allowed her heart to get caught up and carried away.Yes, please, her heart begged.“I want to leave that topic alone but I’m dying to know what happened between you two.” Courtney leaned closer to the screen. “Tell me.”“Nothing to tell.” Kaylin shrugged. “You know I have a three- date max policy.”“Oh, I know, but I thought Ethan was…different. It seemed like you had something special with him.” Her sister prodded.“It was and I…I couldn’t.” Kaylin twisted her lips.“Okay, I’ll back off. You did a number on him though. Ethan was in a daze for days. Brigg said he had never seen his older brother like that. Ethan has always been carefree and all about a good time. He’s been…quiet. And, he’s asked me about you. Several times.”Has he? she wanted to ask. Her traitorous heart liked the sound of that. Particularly because her mind wandered back to her time with him more often than she would admit to anyone. Especially her sister.“Please, no more about Ethan, sis,” Kaylin pleaded, her voice cracking a little. To talk about Ethan would be to experience potential regret. And Kaylin couldn’t dwell in the what-ifs, she had to be about the what-now. Courtney must have seen that this was a real touchy conversation point because, with a nod, she shifted gears and started to talk about Jayson.His main activity was sleeping for a good fourteen hours but that didn’t stop Courtney from bragging on him. And Kaylin was loving every minute of it.Looking at her watch, Kaylin groaned. “I’ve got to get back to work.”“You know what? Why don’t you just not do that?” her sister asked.“Say what now? I’m not following.”“I’m saying to take a break from work. As in, take a vacation. Like a for real vacation where you go on that trip to Alaska you always wanted to go on.”“But I have done that. I’ve gone to Alaska twice already.”“Yes, but that doesn’t count. You were working,” Courtney emphasized. “It’s time for you to lose that cruise uniform and don a sun hat and go on excursions like a tourist. If you ask me, this is a perfect time to regroup. Take a vacation.”Hmm… Courtney’s suggestion took root. When was the last time she had taken an actual vacation? The fact that she had to think about it showed just how long it had been.“You have a point. I’ll think about it.”“Oh no. No thinking allowed.” Courtney wagged a finger. “To borrow from your book, it’s time for you to do, big sis. Put in for your time off today.”She straightened. “There’s actually a seven-day cruise leaving in a couple days…” Her heart thumped with anticipation. “And you’re right. I have been meaning to explore Alaska for quite some time.” Something about the rugged nature of the state excited her.“Well, I wish you were all about going to Mexico or the Bahamas, but do you, girl. Just don’t get eaten by a bear or swallowed by a whale or something while you’re out there.”Kaylin rolled her eyes, holding back a laugh. “I’m sure I’ll be safe.”“Make sure.” Courtney laughed along before she tilted her head, looking at something off screen. Kaylin heard a low hum. Brigg must have entered the house. “Oh, hey. I didn’t know you were coming by…”“Yeah, we had swim meets early this morning but I told Brigg I’d meet him here for lunch. Then I’m going for a ride in my Sling.”She tensed. That wasn’t Brigg. In an instant, Kaylin’s stomach twisted like a pretzel. Kaylin recognized Ethan’s voice very well. She had come to know his voice and his Polaris Slingshot intimately that past summer. Because of parking restrictions at his place, Ethan stored his Sling in his brother’s garage. Um, she was so not ready to see him, especially as vulnerable as she felt at the moment. “I’ll call you back, sis,” she called out, but she didn’t think Courtney heard. Hopefully, Ethan hadn’t either.“Hold up. Is that Kaylin?” Ethan asked.Kaylin looked upward.“Y-yes.” Courtney said, her tone wary. “We were just—”“Let me say hello,” Ethan said, cutting Courtney off. The next thing Kaylin saw was Ethan jumping onto the couch, next to her sister. From her vantage point, she could see he was dressed in his usual garb as a swim coach at Love Creek Middle School—tank top, swimming trunks, and she was sure he was wearing flip-flops.Ethan picked up the iPad, raking a hand through those long curly locks, and greeted her with a warm lopsided smile. “Kaylin, it’s been a minute since I’ve seen you. How have you been?”She pinned her eyes on the man she’d blown off that summer, who had her moaning in her sleep at night. Heat flooded her body as she took in those full lips and those perfectly aligned teeth. He had a way of quirking those lips that made her insides melt. The man had no right to look so doggone good. What with skin the color of deep brown sand, square jaw, broad cheekbones—a nod to his Native American heritage—no wonder Ethan had been a heartthrob back in his days as an Olympian swimmer. The earring in his left ear winked at her. She distinctly recalled her tongue—stop. Stop. Stop.A slight commotion in the background told her it was Brigg who had arrived this time. Courtney popped up, presumably to greet her husband, leaving Kaylin and Ethan to make conversation.Great. Thanks, sis. She tossed her hair and gave him a friendly smile, ignoring her racing heart. Even in the distance her body reacted to him, remembering. “I’ve been well. Working as usual. How about you?”“Eh. I’m almost done coaching.” His eyes darkened and his voice deepened. “You look amazing.” The hunger in his tone was just like it was when they were—no. No. She wasn’t going there.“Thanks,” she breezily replied, hating how breathy she sounded. That was a dead giveaway that she wasn’t unaffected by his knowing gaze. She didn’t want him to know she remembered. Boy, did she. “I’d better get going. Tell my sister I’ll catch up with her.”“Sure.” He cleared his throat. “When can I see you again? I’ve been thinking about you.”Her nipples hardened. She addressed her traitorous body. Keep it casual. Then she answered Ethan. “Oh, you know. I’ll be up that way soon. Depends on where the seas take me.” Whew. It had been a long six weeks since she had slept with him. Long enough for her to have worked the memory of that man out of her system. But it had to be the stress of work and viewing nothing but water for days that made thinking about Ethan the perfect escape. Never mind that she had also rebuffed the passes of a couple fellow crew members who were clearly interested. Kaylin just hadn’t been in the mood. She refused to explore why not.His eyes narrowed and his brows furrowed. “Wait. Have you been crying?”The concern in his voice was almost her undoing. She could feel her eyes well and she found herself wanting to spill all to him. Get some of that comfort she knew he could provide. Uh-oh. She could barely handle a sexy Ethan but a caring Ethan would mess her up.Warning signals went off. “I’m fine. Until next time.” She waggled two fingers at him and disconnected. That’s it. She was taking this vacation. She needed the time off to clear her mind and her brain of work, and Ethan.Without a second thought, Kaylin pulled out her laptop and put in for two weeks’ leave starting in two days. The minute she hit Submit, relief flooded her insides. A sign she had made the right decision. She texted Courtney—I did it!—along with a copy of her itinerary so her sister would know her whereabouts and not worry.Kaylin did a two-step. “Alaska, here I come.”Chapter TwoAug. 2
He knew he was being a nuisance but he had to try. Ethan Harrington hadn’t become an Olympic-level swimmer by giving up easy.Yet it appeared as if that was exactly what Kaylin Sampson wanted him to do. And though he respected her decision to end their fun fling at the close of June, he hadn’t been quite ready for the fun to end yet. Still wasn’t. Their high-energy, off-the-charts chemistry was a first for him and hard to forget. Not that he hadn’t tried.But he also…cared. And therein was his dilemma.He had seen those tears in Kaylin’s eyes and had experienced an immediate urge to fix whatever had caused her hurt. But she had disconnected instead of telling him what was wrong. And her sister Courtney, loyal to a fault, wasn’t providing any answers.“At least tell me if she’s okay,” Ethan pleaded, running a hand across his five-o’clock shadow. Ethan, Courtney and Brigg were gathered around the table for lunch, which consisted of a salad, grilled chicken and cheesy flatbread.“I’m sure if she wasn’t, Courtney would be rushing off to see her,” Brigg said as he took a bite of his flatbread, careful not to mess up his uniform. Ethan knew his brother meant to be encouraging. His line of work in law enforcement required Brigg to be practical and reasonable. But Brigg’s words did nothing to reduce the gnaw in the pit of Ethan’s stomach.“Is she?” he asked Courtney again.Brigg ran a hand over his head, drawing Ethan’s attention to his tight lineup and fade, and scoffed. “You got it bad, bro.”He cut his eyes at Brigg. Brigg, who was about to turn thirty in September, along with his twin brother, Caleb, seemed to be having a laugh at Ethan’s expense. Of his blended family of seven brothers, Ethan was dubbed the clown. He was lighthearted, good-natured, the life of the party, and he had developed that same attitude toward dating. Losing his mother at an early age had made him wary of forming lasting relationships and of falling in love. When Ethan and his brother Drake had lost their mother at the hand of drunk driver as children, he vividly recalled his father, Patrick mentioning how devastated he had been at that loss.Though Ethan had been a toddler, Patrick’s stories of how he had curled into himself, unable to provide for Ethan and Drake, unable to help them process their grief, resounded within him. According to his father, it wasn’t until he’d met Tanya, a single mother of a son, Axel, that Patrick returned to his former self. Patrick and Tanya then adopted Hawk and Lynx—two white foster siblings, and the oldest Harringtons—before Tanya gave birth to fraternal twins, Brigg and Caleb.However, Ethan never forgot his father’s account of how he had been in his grief -stricken state. That left a lasting impression on Ethan and he’d decided that he was never giving his heart to a woman like that. Ever. His motto was Have a Fun Fling and Then Forget About It.Until Kaylin.But she hadn’t seen past his laid-back attitude to view him as commitment material. Not that he wanted that. But it would have been nice to least be considered worthy of a possible long-term exclusive entanglement. A situationship. Instead, when he’d told her he was developing feelings—developing, not actually having—she had laughed and then ended things.Like he was a duck and her rejection would roll off him like water.Courtney shifted before staring at him with those eyes the same color as Kaylin’s like she was trying to view into his soul. Read his intentions. The sisters shared a strong physical resemblance though, over the summer, Kaylin had favored darker eye makeup and kept her hair in a straight bob. But Kaylin had grown her hair out since then and gone for more natural hues, which had made her look like Courtney’s twin. However, Courtney had shoulder-length curls and she seemed to be makeup free most of the time. “Yes, Kaylin is okay, physically.” Then she bit her lip. “I suppose I could tell you. It’s really not a big deal and Kaylin didn’t exactly say it was a secret.”He could see her wavering and pressed his point. “Yes, please tell me. Knowing would ease my mind.”“Kaylin got passed over for a promotion this morning.”“Oh wow. That’s terrible. I think I remember her telling me she was planning to interview for a hospitality manager in the VIP suite.”“Yes, good memory. Well, she just learned this morning that they gave it to someone else for some bogus reason.” Courtney sighed. “She worked so hard for it too. That’s why I encouraged her to take a well-deserved vacation.” She picked up her phone to read a text message. “I’m glad Kaylin took my advice. She just sent me her travel plans.”Jayson started to fuss and Brigg jumped to his feet. “I’ll go check on him.”“You can bring my nephew to me if you want.” Ethan scooted to the edge of his chair. “So, where is she going?”“Um, I’m not sure she would want me to say.” Courtney cocked her head. “Why don’t you ask her yourself?”“Because she started ignoring my texts,” Ethan replied. “And I had to respect her unspoken wishes. But hearing that she’s hurting, and seeing the tears in her eyes, I know I can give her what she needs right now.”Brigg returned with Jayson in his arms when he’d uttered that last sentence.Courtney raised a brow.“A good time. A distraction,” Ethan supplied, even as he did a mental eye roll. But if that’s what she needed to get through, he could be that for her.“Yeah, we all know you’re good for that,” Brigg snorted, patting the baby’s back.Ethan bit the inside of his cheeks to keep the natural comeback at bay. For some reason, that comment rankled though he knew Brigg meant no harm. Maybe it was because he was such a goofball that no one took Ethan seriously. Not Kaylin. Not his family. Not his coach when he had been an Olympian. And definitely not his agent who, at the peak of his career, had kept booking him for gigs where he was either dressed as a clown or playing the comic relief.Good grief. Being the fun cool guy was exhausting.Courtney stood. “Let me get him fed.”“All right, babe. I’ve already changed him.” Brigg handed over his soon-to-be adopted son and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Courtney responded by touching Brigg’s face. They peered into each other’s eyes, forgetting Ethan’s presence. Seeing Courtney and Brigg’s exchange made Ethan experience a rare twinge of jealousy. No, not jealousy. More like hopefulness. Hopefulness that he would have someone look at him the way Courtney did his younger brother.Kaylin’s face popped into his mind, creating a light panic and…curiosity. He just wanted to be around her. After things between them had fizzled, he’d been dissatisfied, lost. In limbo. It was like his heart was in wait mode though he had no idea for what. He did know that this might be his last year working as a swim coach. He liked working with the kids and it had been a good career choice after his swim injury, but he didn’t think he wanted to do that for the rest of the life. His earlier meeting with a few angry parents had sealed that decision. Ethan planned to submit his resignation, and go where?To be with Kaylin?Where had that come from? The very thought was preposterous.Brigg’s radio went off with something about a fire and a possible death of a fellow police officer. His brother rushed into action, giving Courtney another quick kiss. “I’ve got to get out there.” This was something Brigg, as Love Creek’s newest police captain,  would need to oversee. Brigg rushed toward the front door.“Hang on.” Courtney gave Jayson over to Ethan, sticking a bottle in his hand. She grabbed a container, placed two pieces of flatbread inside, and handed it to Brigg. “You’ll need sustenance. There’s no telling when you’ll be home.” With a thank you and a wave, Brigg was through the door. Courtney went out behind him, probably to see him off.Ethan held Jayson in front of him and rocked him side to side. “Hey, little man.” Jayson smiled, making Ethan’s heart constrict. He had formed an attachment with Jayson since he had been one of the infant’s first babysitters. Ethan adjusted Jayson in the crook of his arm and placed the bottle in the baby’s mouth. Truth was, he’d told Brigg he’d come by to ride his Sling, but it was more about spending time with the baby. Jayson looked at him with such trust, his hand curling around Ethan’s finger. It just twisted his insides in a good way. A secret part of him imagined what it would be like to be a father. He rather thought he might be good at it.Courtney came back inside. She ran a hand through her hair. “Thanks for watching Jayson. Want me to take over?”“No, I’ve got him,” he said, his eyes pinned on his nephew. Courtney returned to the table, the chair scraping across the floor as she pulled it out then sat. Without lifting his head, he asked, “So…you never said where Kaylin was going for vacation…”“I’ve got to give it you. You are persistent.” Courtney cleared her throat. “I really think you should talk to Kaylin.” She was right, but Ethan didn’t know if Kaylin would tell him anything of her plans. Every time he was in proximity, she ran in the opposite direction or cut the communication short.“It might be my imagination, but she seems to be avoiding me.”“I’m sure she has her reasons.”Ethan decided to appeal to Courtney’s romantic side. “I thought we made a connection. I was into her and she was into me. You saw that for yourself. Then poof! It’s over.” He shook his head. “I believe if I had a heart-to-heart with her, Kaylin would see for herself that we have something worth…exploring.” He swallowed. “I like her. I really like her. And I don’t want things to end. Not yet.”“Did you tell her that?” Courtney asked, her tone gentle, her eyes alight with understanding.He nodded. “I did.” He mopped his brow. “I told her that I might be falling for her.”“Oh my. You didn’t.” She placed a hand to her mouth, her eyes wide.“It wasn’t the smartest move on my part.” He scoffed. “I don’t even know why I said that. Verbal diarrhea.”“Huh…”You would think he had confessed to a horrible crime the way she eyed him with amazement. Embarrassed, he averted his gaze. Jayson finished his bottle and Ethan rested the baby on his shoulder to burp him. Jayson squirmed little legs. Aww.Courtney slapped her thighs. “Now I know why my sister ended things.”“Well, that makes one of us because I’m clueless.” And that left his ego bruised.“You scared her off. Kaylin doesn’t do relationships. We grew up in a home where our mother was an addict and her only concern was supporting her addiction. At six and seven, Kaylin and I were left to fend for ourselves. Kaylin did her best to take care of me though she was only one year older than I was. She took being a big sister to heart. However, she almost burned the house down trying to make us eggs for breakfast one morning, which was how we finally ended up in a foster home. And that was after many close calls.”Ethan pictured two younger versions of Kaylin and Courtney struggling to cook a meal or dress themselves and his heart moved. “I’m sorry to hear that.” Ethan stood and placed Jayson on the baby mat to give him some tummy time. He put on the YouTube channel with some children’s tunes.“We vowed to never rely on anyone but each other. We would never get married or have children. We didn’t want any child to suffer the way we did.” She splayed her hands and lifted her shoulders. “As you can see, I broke that pact. However, I’m glad I did.”He scooched closer. “Don’t you want that for your sister?”“I do, but it’s her choice.”“I understand, but I need the opportunity to change her mind.”“Wait. Are you saying you’re in love with her?”“I—I care about her,” he stuttered. As much as he wanted to see Kaylin, Ethan couldn’t lie about his feelings. “I just want to be there for her. She seemed distraught and all I can think about is she’s alone and could use some company.”Courtney placed a hand to her chest. “I agree with you. I’ve never seen her so despondent.” Her eyes narrowed. “Maybe you could lift her spirits and let me know if anything seems amiss with her?”Hope flooded his chest. “I can do that.”“Okay, we have a deal.” She inhaled and squared her shoulders. “Pack your bags and get ready for an adventure in Alaska. I’ll text you her itinerary.”“Alaska? What is she doing all the way out there?”Courtney leaned back into the chair and quipped, “I guess she’s waiting for you.” She looked at her watch. “You’d better get going. Her ship sails in two days.”“Right.” Ethan hugged her and rushed out of her house to book his trip. If everything went according to plan, he would rekindle a physical, fun relationship with Kaylin and try his best not to fall for her. He tossed his keys in the air and caught them. That should be easy. Easy as the custard pie he planned to bake and take with him.Kaylin’s favorite.He couldn’t wait to see her face when he showed up on her trip, pie in hand. She was going to be so surprised.Chapter ThreeAug. 4
What was Ethan Harrington doing on this ship all the way in Seattle? That was her first thought.Standing in the queue of passengers awaiting embarkation to the ship, Kaylin blinked several times and then rubbed her eyes. The temps were in the upper nineties, typical for the first Sunday in August, and the humidity was ridiculous enough that maybe it was messing with her equilibrium and she was hallucinating. Nah. She knew the back of that head standing over in the priority check-in line very well. He had on a baseball cap and dark sunglasses. But Kaylin recognized that tall, solid frame, those long arms and that firm butt outlined in those telltale swimming trunks.And she knew just who was responsible for him being on this ship.I’m going to wring Courtney’s beautiful neck. Kaylin took out her cell phone and gave her sister a call, but it rang until it went to voicemail. How convenient. She tried again but this time the call went straight to voicemail. Pulling up the text messaging app, her fingers flew across the page.Sis, I know you are avoiding me but you have some explaining to do.Que?Really? Courtney thought this was funny. Her chest heaved.Why did you tell Ethan where I am?Because you could use some fun.Ethan isn’t fun. He’s a complication. I don’t have the bandwidth to deal with him right now.No entiendo.Kaylin folded her bottom lip into her mouth to keep from screaming.Quit messing around. I’m not going to go, and you can thank your interference for that.The person you’re trying to reach is unavailable for text messaging.Answer me!!Ugh. Was she serious right now?Kaylin didn’t want Ethan here. She grunted loud enough to cause a few heads to swivel in her direction. She could feel her blood pressure spiking and released short, shallow breaths. Kaylin tucked her phone back in her pocket because it was obvious Courtney wasn’t about to confess to her wrongdoings. Ugh. What she really needed to do was leave. Turn around, get in her car and check into a hotel. But this vacation hadn’t been cheap. She had dipped into her savings so she could enjoy many excursions and experiences.And it was the number-one item on her bucket list. To actually vacation in Alaska instead of work.She released a plume of air. Maybe his being here was a coincidence… And, she was pretty sure Ethan had booked the VIP suite, so they would be in different parts of the ship. He would be in another section of the vessel enjoying a different experience. The VIP suites came with their own lounge, restaurants, access to a private concierge and butler, so he wouldn’t be hanging with the common folks like her. Kaylin had booked a cabin on a higher deck in the rear of the ship so she could enjoy a spectacular view. Comforted by that knowledge, Kaylin pulled her straw hat lower on her face. She had dressed in a pair of shorts and a tie-dyed shirt and a pair of matching tie-dye Crocs. If she were lucky, Ethan wouldn’t be able to find her even if he was trying.Um, she needed to stop kidding herself. Of course, he had come looking for her. That knowledge flattered, but she sneered. Ethan was probably operating under a strong delusion that they would pick up where they had left off earlier that summer. However, having worked on cruise ships, she knew just how to evade him.Ten minutes later, she was third in line to check in. Ethan came outside to join her. She didn’t feign surprise or hide her annoyance. He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. She caught a whiff of apple, pineapple and birch. Tom Ford’s Creed Aventus. Her insides quivered, remembering Ethan’s preference for this high-end cologne as well as Tom Ford’s Oud Wood. The man liked to smell good and he was willing to pay good money for it. During her exploration of his body, her nose had thanked him for it…followed by her mouth.Oy. Two seconds in his presence and her mind was already straying to baser past times. Staying away from this man wouldn’t be easy, but she had to.“I thought I would surprise you,” Ethan said, whipping off his sunglasses, all smiles. She heard a gasp behind her. Someone might have recognized him as a former Olympian. He also used to play a clown on some advertisement. She forgot which one. Although, with his striking looks and welcoming personality, Ethan had commanded attention wherever they’d gone during their short time together. And those muscles were muscling with that tank he was wearing.“Consider your intentions met.” She shielded her eyes with her hand and peered up at him. “Where are you staying?”“In the VIP suite.” He put on his sunglasses again and pulled his baseball cap low on his face.She snorted. “Of course. Nothing but the best for the Harrington men.” Ethan and his other famous siblings—Axel, the movie star and Hawk, the football player—had a reputation for appreciating the finer things life had to offer, although they worked hard for it. Their father, Patrick, had instilled a strong worth ethic in his sons. All of the Harrington men were successful, each in their own right.He cracked up. “You know it.”Kaylin licked her lips. “I’m just going to put this out there. I came on this excursion to relax and have a good time. I’m not looking for a hanging partner or a bed buddy.”Ethan opened his mouth, most likely to charm her into changing her mind, but she held up a hand. “Ahp. Don’t say a word. You’re not going to change my mind.”He bunched his lips and nodded.“Good. Now that we have that settled, let’s embark.” She took her place in line with Ethan by her side. “You don’t have to stay here with me. You can go back to priority boarding.”“I don’t mind.” The jostle of the crowd of passengers waiting to get on caused him to move closer into her personal space. Her heart rate kicked into full gear and anywhere his body connected with hers had her tingling.Welp. She wasn’t going to be able to keep him at a distance if he was going to be all up in her space like this. Kaylin didn’t want to lead Ethan on. He wanted something she wasn’t ever going to willingly give. Commitment.Hearing a baby fussing behind her made Kaylin turn around. A couple appeared flustered while wrangling with a toddler who was trying to escape her father’s arms. “Go ahead in front of me,” she offered and stepped out of the way. The grateful parents thanked her several times as they moved ahead with the stroller, luggage, stuffed animals and a lot of paraphernalia. Kaylin felt exhausted just watching them, but other passengers also allowed them to pass.“You are so thoughtful,” Ethan bent over to whisper in her ear. His bass voice moved through her ear canal, which made her quiver. “That’s what I like about you.” His breath on her neck made her grit her teeth. Kaylin gave him a light jab with her elbow so he would give her breathing room.“Am I in your way?” he asked, acting like he was clueless.She swung around to peer up at him through her lashes. His smirk told her he was rattling her on purpose. She refused to give him the satisfaction, so she folded her arms and turned around to stand off to the side.Thank goodness, she was now second in line. The woman in front of her appeared to be sniffling. When the woman shuffled up to the security screening, her documents shook in her hand. Kaylin cocked her ears as she followed close.“Nosy,” Ethan teased, on her trail.“I’m just concerned,” she whispered then placed two fingers over her lips. Maybe getting away from Ethan was more important than her adventure in Alaska.“Please let me board,” the woman cried. “I’m willing to pay whatever it takes. My fiancé is based in Alaska and is being deployed for Germany. I’ve got to catch him, and the flights are booked solid today and tomorrow, so this is my only hope.” The woman turned to the side and Kaylin gasped. She was pregnant.Kaylin’s heart went out to her. She hoped the crew would be able to accommodate her.“I’m sorry, Miss, but we’ve reached our capacity for same-day bookings.”“She can have my cabin,” Kaylin yelled out, giving her name and holding up her boarding pass.The lady looked at her with gratitude in her eyes and rubbed her stomach. “Oh, thank you.” She gave the crew member a hopeful glance.He shook his head. “I don’t know if—”“You can get special permission,” Kaylin said with authority. “I work on a cruise ship.” She raised a brow and dared him to challenge her.Ethan stepped up. “It’s just a matter of adding her name, isn’t it? I have a two-bedroom suite, so Kaylin can bunk with me.”“That’s not necessary,” Kaylin said through gritted teeth. “I can go another time.”“All right. I’ll be right back.” The young man slumped his shoulders.The woman sagged with relief. She patted Kaylin’s arm. “Thank you.”“You’re so welcome. It will all work out. You’ll see.”She extended her hand. “I’m Beth, by the way.”Kaylin smiled at the lady. “Hi, Beth. I’m Kaylin.” She pointed at Ethan. “And that’s Ethan. Do you know what you’re having?”“It’s a girl,” Beth said with a tender smile. “Tyler—that’s my fiancé—is thrilled.”They stepped aside so that the other passengers could complete their boarding while they waited. Ethan placed his hands on Courtney’s shoulders to give them a light squeeze. “I don’t mind sharing a space with you.”She gave him the side-eye. “I’m not going to sleep with you.”He put up his hands. “That’s not why I offered. The thought didn’t cross my mind when I said I would share my space. I know this vacation was your pick-me-up after not getting that promotion and I want you to still have that happen since it’s in my power to do so.”Seeing the sincerity in his eyes, Kaylin relented. “Thank you, Ethan. I accept your proposition.” Staying in his suite didn’t mean they had to interact with each other. There was plenty to do onboard the ship, and she had many excursions planned so she would only be in the suite when it was actually time to go sleep. Yeah, this could work.The crew member returned with good news and they finished boarding. Ethan paid the difference in the suite fees and Kaylin didn’t put up a fuss about it. She was willing to make a sacrifice so this other woman could be reunited with her child’s father. Kaylin found herself enfolded into the other women’s embrace. Once they pulled apart, the woman dabbed at her eyes. “I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”“Knowing you’ll be able to meet with your honey is thanks enough.” Ethan excused himself to use the restroom, leaving the women to chitchat for a bit.Beth gave a shy smile. “Tyler and I are going to get married before he flies out to Germany. When he first heard about the baby, he asked me to marry him, but I was too scared. I didn’t want children and I needed time to process that first. And since my parents got divorced when I was young, even though I loved him, I didn’t think marriage was for me. But Tyler took that to mean I was rejecting him. We didn’t speak for months. It wasn’t until I heard he was about to leave that I knew I had to gather my courage and tell him how I feel.”Whoa. “I’m happy for you,” she whispered, amazed by what Beth had just confided.Goose bumps popped up on Kaylin’s arms. Beth’s story was somewhat similar to hers except she had had a pregnancy scare not an actual pregnancy. Since her period had showed up, Kaylin hadn’t needed to tell Ethan anything.“This experience taught me not to run from my feelings but to face them head-on.”Those words sliced Kaylin’s heart. “I wish you the best,” was all she could whisper before they parted ways.As she watched the other woman depart, Beth’s final words stayed with her. When Ethan returned, she followed him to the upper deck but remained pensive. Was she running away from her feelings when it came to Ethan? She snorted. Of course not, unlike Beth, she hadn’t been in love with Ethan when she’d ended things. On the verge of falling wasn’t falling. And she intended to avoid that precipice because her mental survival depended on it.A few months back, Kaylin had decided she wanted to find her and Courtney’s birth mother. She’d hired a private investigator and when she’d found Lola Sampson, she’d rushed out to Ohio ready for a tearful reunion, ready for her mother to welcome her with open arms.But the very opposite had happened.Her own mother, the woman who had given birth to her, had called her outside of her name and denied her very existence. Kaylin had left the premises crushed and heartbroken, vowing never to return.Her love for her sister and nephew sustained her and healed her, but she would never open herself to anyone else again. Being that vulnerable and having expectations only led to disappointment and heartache. To safeguard her heart, she would only allow herself short-term dalliances. After all, a beautiful letdown was ten times better than an ugly breakup.So, despite their circumstantial proximity, Kaylin resolved she would keep Ethan at a distance.Starting now.
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Except from AN ALASKAN ARRANGEMENT by Michelle Lindo-Rice. This material is protected by copyright.

Seven Brides for Seven Brothers

Book 1: Rivals at Love Creek
Book 2: Cinderella's Last Stand

Book 3: Twenty-Eight Dates 
Book 4: An Alaskan Arrangement

This Fortune's Thanksgiving table is about to get a little bigger…

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Rancher Nash Fortune can't believe his eyes during his unexpected reunion with the captivating Imani Porter: she's in labor—with none other than Nash’s child! The heir apparent to Porter Oil knew Nash never wanted to be a father. But now the newly minted Fortune is all in, ready, willing and able to spend time learning to parent Colt together—even looking forward to sharing baby's first Thanksgiving. If only Nash could shake his doubts about his own ability to commit to forever with Imani… The duo’s chemistry might still be combustible, but will their fears of not being perfect enough tear their newfound family apart?

Chapter One

If only she could stop shaking, Imani Porter could go through with this spontaneous wedding of convenience. She could recite the vows to a man she didn’t love to give her son a father. A son scheduled to make his appearance really soon.

That’s why as she stood under the awning of the justice of the peace in Stone Crest, Texas, clutching her bouquet of water lilies at the beginning of November, she reminded herself she was doing the right thing. Then, taking a deep, calming breath, Imani looked up into the face of her friend Simon Evans, who had proposed to her just seventy-two hours before.

The stand-in for a man who told her he didn’t want to have children.

Imani had the best daddy in the world. Phillip Porter. Of course, she wanted the same for her son. 

Her bridal ensemble included a designer wedding veil, a white one-shoulder jumpsuit with a cape and a wide skirt. And finally, she’d donned a pair of peau-de-soie pumps that pinched her toes. All because she knew Simon wanted them to look the part of a happy couple. For the pictures…and for her baby’s sake. Even though they weren’t actually a real couple, she suspected Simon very much desired that to be the case. She had met him during graduate school, when they were study partners, and they had remained loose acquaintances.

Until she learned she was pregnant a month after her relationship ended with the man of her dreams. During a bout of nausea at a nearby gas station, she had run into Simon, who had purchased her ginger ale and crackers. He had stayed with her until she felt well enough to drive. Simon became a shoulder, a sounding board, a support, which she appreciated. But he didn’t make her heart race or her palms sweat like—

No. No. No. She couldn’t allow herself to think about Nash Windham when she was about to promise a lifetime to another man. Squaring her shoulders, Imani slapped a wide smile on her face and tipped her head back to peer into Simon’s blue-black eyes.

Her mother called them shifty eyes.

He reached over to take one of her brown hands in his fairer ones at the same time the judge entered the room. “Are you ready to become Mrs. Evans?” Simon asked, his voice smooth, like the bass guitar he strummed from time to time. Right as Simon asked the question, the baby kicked.

A sign that her child agreed?

She nodded, her lower lip trembling. The baby kicked again and she looked away. Wait…did her son disagree with her decision? Her heart began to pound and dread piled in her stomach. Maybe she was making a mistake by taking Simon up on his spontaneous proposal. Maybe she shouldn’t have accepted his offer to be her baby’s stepfather. Maybe she should have listened to her mother and grandmother when they advised her to have Simon sign a prenup.

After all, she had the means to be a single mom. At thirty-two, she was the proud owner of Lullababies, a high-end baby specialty store she had started with her cousin right after finishing design school. An accomplishment she was proud of.

Simon released her hand to greet the judge. She gripped the lilies she held and gave him a tight smile before drawing a few deep breaths. Seeing her purse on the desk, she battled the sudden urge to snatch it and flee. You can’t back out now.

“Are you cold?” Simon asked, rubbing her shoulders, which made her teeth grit.

“N-no. I-I’ve just never been married before,” she squeaked out, forcing herself to meet his eyes.

He chuckled and ran a hand over his goatee. “Neither have I.”

The judge cleared his throat. “Are you ready to begin?”

With a jerky nod, Imani and Simon turned to face the magistrate. She shook so much that a couple of petals fell at her feet. The judge commenced using the traditional vows they had chosen. With a gulp, she slaked a glance at her groom, taking in his wide shoulders, powerful chin and smooth skin. Anywhere they went, Simon made the women take a second look, got them all hot and bothered, but she remained oddly…unaffected. Unmoved. Then, suddenly, another face, another body—tall and muscular with thick, dark hair and sultry amber eyes—popped into her mind, spiking her heart rate.

Clenching her jaw, she shook her head, shaking Nash out of her psyche. She didn’t need the heart quivers. What she really needed was to think of the man she was about to marry today. This marriage would be a partnership.

Her mother, Abena, and paternal grandmother, Zuri, believed that Simon was marrying her because she was a Porter. He had his eye on a big payout—her grandfather’s billion-dollar oil business in Cactus Grove. Hammond Porter, one of the only Black billionaires in Texas, had begun training her to lead his business from the time she was a child. Imani was his chosen heir and he planned to pitch her ascension to the executive board at Porter Oil. All of which Simon knew.

But Imani ignored her mother and grandmother’s suspicions and their insinuations that he was a rebound. Because, in truth, she didn’t view Simon through a romantic lens.

Then why are you marrying him? Zuri had asked her several times.

Because…

Imani allowed herself to get caught up, listening as Simon recited his vows with that warm baritone and surprising sincerity in his eyes. 

They were going to be a happy family, with a happy life and an even happier baby. Weren’t they?

“I promise to love, honor and obey…” he said.

Yep. She could do this.

Then Simon winked. A slow, suggestive wink.

That snapped her out of the fairy tale and back to reality. Panic weaved through her body at a rapid speed, tightening her chest. She took choppy breaths, fighting a sudden wave of nausea, of dizziness.

No. No. No. She couldn’t do this. Her baby delivered two powerful kicks. Imani lifted a hand. “S-stop. We have to stop. Right now.”

Imani dropped the flowers, then snagged Simon’s attention. 

“I feel like I’m about to pass out.” Sweat drizzled down the side of her face. She could feel the curls wilting. Dang it. Her stylist had warned her against getting a blowout with the day so humid. She should have listened.

“Is it the baby?” Simon asked gruffly. He wrapped his arm about her, his eyebrows furrowing into a deep V. She heard the judge calling for someone to bring her a glass of water.

Imani lifted a hand. “I just need…a second.” She didn’t have the heart to tell him that the thought of marrying him made her feel weak-kneed and sweaty—and not in a good way.

Simon scooped her close and led her over to sit on the judge’s chair. She could faintly hear the judge asking for a medic. Her fiancé picked up a manila folder and pumped it back and forth, causing her curls to bob against her cheek. Next thing she knew, someone shoved a glass of water in her hand and commanded her to drink. As soon as she was finished, the paramedic on duty stuffed a thermometer in her mouth and wrapped her arm with a blood-pressure cuff.

“Is she going to be alright?” Simon asked, concern in his voice. Was he worried about the woman that she was, or about losing the perks of marrying a heiress? The fact that she didn’t know the answer made her stomach bubble.

Oh, goodness. All this fuss made her face go hot, and the tighter the cuff got, the more embarrassed she became. 

Simon was beside himself. “I hope this baby isn’t trying to come today, of all days.”

Was he for real? “What did you say?” she asked, enunciating slowly.

He stuttered, seeming to catch his faux pas. “I—I meant it’s too soon. You’re not due yet.”

Of course, that’s what he meant.

“Her blood pressure is elevated,” the paramedic interjected, her voice steady. “But that’s to be expected. A lot of brides get nervous.” Peering down to look at her, the young woman asked, “Are you feeling contractions?”

“N-no. I’m only eight months pregnant so I’ve still got a few weeks to go. But my baby has been kicking up a storm.”

“That’s perfectly normal,” she replied with a laugh, then patted Imani’s arm. “I think your bride is safe to proceed. It’s probably her nerves.” The room cleared, leaving her alone with Simon.

More like Imani didn’t want to get married. Kick.

And her baby didn’t want her to do it, either. 

Kick. Kick. Kick. “Alright, little one, I get it,” she mumbled.

“What was that?” Simon asked, patting his brow. She couldn’t look him in the eyes as he helped her to her feet.

“I’m sorry. I—I have to use the bathroom,” she said, grabbing her purse and scuttling toward the door. Simon came toward her but she sped up and rushed into the hall. Imani hurried into the restroom so fast, she had to stop to catch her breath first before going into the largest stall. Once she was finished and had washed her hands, she dug into her purse for her sandals and changed out of her shoes.

She closed her eyes. Ah. What a relief. You know what else would be a relief? Getting out of here. Along with that thought came a sense of peace. And another kick from her little guy.

Decision made.

“Mommy hears you,” she said. Quickly, she gathered her hair in a bun using a scrunchie from her purse, then opened the bathroom door and peered outside. Simon was a foot from the door. Waiting. Like a vulture with her as the intended prey.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“No, but I will be.” Imani raced down the hallway toward the exit with Simon following.

“Don’t do this!” he yelled.

Imani waved a hand but didn’t look back. “It’s already done.”

“If you walk through those doors. I’m done,” he called out. “Lose my number.”

She shrugged, unmoved by his idle threat, and sailed through the automatic doors. They opened with a swoosh and she ran out, grateful for the mild autumn day. 

Imani beelined toward her Jeep Wrangler—a baby shower gift from Daddy—so glad she and Simon had arrived in separate vehicles. Simon had spent the morning at a spa—on her dime—while she had been at the hairstylist. Panting, she tried to stuff herself into the vehicle but the skirt was a pain. Good thing it was detachable. After snapping it off her waist, she tossed the flimsy material on the ground of the parking lot before settling inside the SUV. Imani took a moment to shut down her phone. Then, she pressed the gas, and peeled out of the lot.

A couple miles down the road, she slowed as a thought occurred. She couldn’t go home. Simon might show up at her penthouse suite…accompanied by her mother and grandmother. She had planned to sublease her place since she would have been moving in with Simon temporarily while they searched for their permanent home. At his insistence. Simon felt she should purchase a more grandiose compound—again, his words—suitable for her elevated status as the next CEO of Porter Oil.

Abena and Zuri lived in Cactus Grove and had traveled to Stone Crest for the celebratory wedding brunch following her nuptials. The two women had been furious that a Porter would get married in a courthouse. But Simon had pressed her so hard to elope that she had caved, mollifying her family with the brunch.

Thank goodness she had insisted that Nia Okafur, her cousin and business partner, not reschedule the meeting with a new artist and the textile vendor they used. Nia had flown to Paris to meet up with an artist who made one-of-a-kind baby blankets. Imani’s cousin would be back in time for her delivery and would take over the helm of Lullababies while she was on maternity leave.

Her stomach growled. The little guy had gone quiet. Despite the pitiful situation of her own doing, she giggled and wiped her brow. Spotting a creamery, she veered into the long queue of the drive-thru lane.

So since her penthouse suite was out, where could she go? She had packed her weekender with comfy pjs and loungewear, intending to spend her first night as a new bride at Simon’s place. That had put her on edge even though at eight months pregnant, they wouldn’t have been consummating their union. They had agreed to a partnership. Or, as Simon called it, a merger.

Ugh. He really had been all about the dollar signs.

Jumping at the chance to marry the heiress of Porter Oil.

Maybe she could reach out to her brother, Jonathan  . . . Naw. He was all the way in Dubai with her father. They had been building Porter Oil’s legacy overseas for more than a decade. Imani didn’t know how her mother tolerated such a long-distance relationship but whenever her parents reunited, they acted like randy teenagers.

Whatever. That wouldn’t be her.

She supposed that was why she had run out on her own wedding. She wanted something more and she was at the place in her life where she went for what she wanted. And she’d start with a huge serving of ice cream—even though her stomach felt squirrelly all of a sudden—then she’d drive to one of the nearby towns and do some shopping.

Imani moved up a space in the queue.

She squirmed in her seat as guilt flowered in her chest. The magnitude of what she had done weighed on her shoulders. Oh my gosh. Even if he had ulterior motives, Simon hadn’t deserved her running off like that. If only she had listened to Nia, who begged her not to take Simon up on his sudden offer of marriage. What had her cousin called it? A pop-up proposal.

The rocky road ice cream on display looked enticing, making her salivate. It also made her think of the first time she had met Nash Windham. The tears flowed easy—the result of guilt, missing Nash and pregnancy hormones. She struggled to speak clearly when it was finally her turn to order. By the time she got to the checkout window, Imani’s body was shaking from her cry fest. She was the worst person in the world.

The young man at the window bent over to hand her the cone. She was sure her cheeks were red and puffy from crying. “Ma’am, are you okay?” he asked, his eyes widening with alarm when he saw her round tummy. He gave her a stack of napkins.

“Actually? No…I feel horrible,” she sniffled, wiping her face and reaching out to take the ice-cream cone before handing him a crisp twenty-dollar bill. “Keep the ch-change. That’s the least I can do.” Before he could utter another word, she drove off.

A sharp pain sliced across her lower back—a sign she needed to calm down. Imani drew deep breaths, gripping the wheel with her free hand, and then began devouring her cone. Eating her feelings. Since being pregnant, food had become her go-to for every emotion she felt—joy, fear, loneliness and now guilt.

Feeling another cramp, Imani pulled over and finished her treat. Then she cleaned her mouth before blowing her nose. Oh, no! There was a huge chocolate stain across her bosom. She lifted the middle console to take out the small bottle of hand sanitizer. After squeezing out a tiny dollop, she rubbed her hands and then poured some on a napkin. She gently dabbed at the chocolate but her garment was probably ruined. Plus, she could feel a headache forming.

A fitting end to her disastrous non-nuptials.

Oh, well. She would change once she got to the strip mall. Imani shoved the image of her plush comforter atop her four-poster bed out of her mind and started up the vehicle, appreciating the gentle whir. Eyeing the phone in her bag, she bit her lower lip and decided to turn it on.

Sure enough, her phone pinged with multiple alerts. Two from her mom, one from her grandmother, five from Nia. 

And one from Simon.

Ignoring the low-battery alert, she pulled up his text. We can still do this if you change your mind. Ugh. This man didn’t know when to give up.

Their friendship had run its course.

She blocked him and deleted his contact information, then rubbed her lower back. Tossing her phone in her bag, Imani avoided her reflection in the rearview mirror. She couldn’t face herself.

She couldn’t face anyone.

*

Oh, Lord, she wasn’t going to make it to the hospital. It was no use trying.

Parked on the side of the road, with no idea of her exact location, Imani wished someone would drive by. Anyone. Her phone had long died and she hadn’t brought her charger with her that morning. She could see the cord on her coffee table and bit her lower lip to keep the panic at bay. How many times had her mother and Simon told her to keep a spare in her car? If only she had listened…

After spending a few hours engaging in retail therapy, very much unaware that she was in labor, Imani had been on her way home late that evening when the first serious contraction hit. It only took a few minutes before she realized her multiple trips to the restroom could have been her water breaking. Somewhere on her journey back, her vehicle navigation system had lost signal and she had made a wrong turn. Now she was well and truly lost in these back roads.  And now low on gas, with labor pains, she couldn’t keep driving and put herself and her baby at risk. So here she was, in active labor with only the cows and a couple of goats for company.

Breathe, Imani. Breathe. In, out. In, out. 

Oh, it was no use.

Her contractions were now coming so fast and furious, about a minute apart, that she struggled with remembering how to do anything she’d learned in Lamaze class.  

I can’t have this baby, out here in the middle of nowhere, alone. 

But it looked like she might not have any choice in the matter. Her stomach muscles tensed, her body priming for another contraction. Holding on to the door handle and gripping her leather seat, Imani bunched her fists and screamed.

Chapter Two

As long as he lived, Nash Fortune would never forget the terror etched across Stanley Trotter’s face after his new part-time employee had fallen off the horse at the Fortune Family Ranch. As foreman, Nash was responsible for the well-being of every single worker, and the fact that it had happened on his watch had left him shaken.

He headed out the front door of County General Hospital that Friday evening, having paid Stanley a visit. Thankfully, the other man had only suffered minor injuries and would be released in a couple of days before recuperating at home. He had been in good spirits, surrounded by his wife and baby girl.

Stanley had introduced Valentina and his six-month-old, Penelope, his voice filled with pride. Nash had felt a twist in his gut. One that felt oddly like jealousy. Nash had backed out of the room with haste, stating that he had to oversee the feed delivery for the cows, all the while grappling with that foreign yearning for family. Which was ridiculous. He had five siblings and they all lived in separate houses on the thirty-five-hundred-acre cattle ranch in Chatelaine Hills, purchased from a wealthy family who had relocated to Arizona. And since learning he was a Fortune a few months ago, Nash had inherited even more family.

Every time he thought about the entire Fortune clan welcoming him at his grandfather’s bedside, his heart warmed. The bond between the Fortunes had made his decision easier to change his name from Windham to Fortune, though he would do anything to please his mom.

But he didn’t have a wife. And he could have had one if he had allowed himself to fall for the only woman who had kept his interest past three weeks. Imani Porter. Just thinking about her made his insides quiver. He had met her outside an ice-cream shop when he lived in Cactus Grove, not too long after his father’s death.

Their chemistry had been instant. With her smooth sepia skin, her generous lips and those ridiculous curves, Nash had wanted a taste of that more than the butter pecan in his hand.

Before he knew it, Nash and Imani were talking nonstop for hours and he had spent every free minute he had with her soaking in her sharp wit, her feisty spirit, her spunk. Nash remembered moments in bed where he would just watch her sleep, or stare into those dark chocolate orbs while she talked about her day. Just as Imani and Nash had reached the three-month mark, Nash’s mother, Wendy, mentioned maybe it was time to start wedding planning.

Those words, spoken in jest, had scared him like nobody’s business, but then when he broached the topic with Imani, expecting her to laugh along, she had grown serious and pinned that gaze on him. Like she had…expectations. Expectations of being a wife, a mother—she wanted five children, had even picked out names, he had learned. Expectations he hadn’t shared. Nash had called it quits, though his heart had protested. And while he still missed that woman something fierce, Imani was the kind of woman someone settled down and started a family with. And Nash wasn’t doing none of that.

Nope. Not him.

His own father had pretty much cut him off, like he was one of his employees at Windham Plastics, and Nash had that man’s blood in his veins. He couldn’t chance messing up an innocent child’s life, like Casper Windham had done to him. His father had been cold and distant all because neither Nash nor his siblings had been interested in working at the family business. He would never forget the disdain on Casper’s face when they had expressed an interest in ranching.

“Ranching,” Casper had yelled, “is beneath a Windham.”

Nash had no idea how his parents had remained married for thirty-three years. He ran a hand through his hair and expelled Imani from his mind. The only reason he was even thinking about Imani and all of this was because of Stanley and his family.

Liar.

The truth was, that woman intruded in his thoughts more than he cared to admit. He had peeped her Instagram a few times, but Imani hadn’t posted in months. In fact, her last post had been her dinner plate from their last date.

It had been a dinner they had shared because he hadn’t liked what he had ordered. So she had given him some of hers. He had taken one last glimpse of their joined hands—his white, hers brown, resting at the edge of the table—and vowed to stay away from her Insta page.

Nash’s new cowboy boots—a gift from his twin sister, Jade—crunched on the gravel as he made his way to his truck. The Lucchese Baron boots, made of cherry alligator-skin leather, cost about ten thousand dollars, and even though he was a Fortune, with more money than he could ever spend over centuries, Nash would never have bought himself a pair. He had to admit, though, that they kept his feet comfortable, especially after a long day at the ranch.

He toyed with the idea of manufacturing his own high-end boots with cork leather or some other alternative—and add to the many businesses the Fortunes had in the town—but he would tackle one business at a time, or hand off the idea to one of his siblings. Speaking of which, he had scheduled a family meeting on the eighth to discuss several ventures they were going into—the dairy farm, the petting zoo and fiber arts—where he planned to share his three-year strategic plan. Thankfully, his younger brother, Arlo, aka the ranch whisperer, was helping him looking over the plans.

After jumping into his silver Range Rover, Nash put on Taylor Swift’s “Back to December”—all Jade’s fault—and began his trek home. His sister had dedicated that song to him when she heard about his breakup with Imani. She had done it as a spoof but the stupid song stayed in his mind and he tended to play it when he thought about Imani.

So, yeah, this had to be the thousandth time. Pitiful.

So many times, Nash had picked up his cell phone to call or had thought about paying Imani a visit, but he would keep telling himself he had made the right decision. She was better off without him and his messed-up genes.

Since it was a beautiful autumn evening, he decided to take the scenic route on the back roads and enjoy the colorful hues along the skyline. He had just finished the second replay of that darn song when he shot past a Jeep Wrangler pulled over on the other side of the road. It was angled so that its rear end jutted into the street. Adjusting his rear window, he peeked behind him. The hazard lights weren’t even on. With the sun dipping low, that person was asking to get hit by a speeding truck or another passerby. A car shot by and honked its horn.

Nash didn’t remember seeing anyone sitting in the driver’s seat. Maybe the owner had had car trouble and left the car there. Yes, that made sense. He began to accelerate. But what if the driver was sick or something and he could have helped?

On impulse, he executed a U-turn and parked behind the vehicle, making sure he was a good distance from the curb. Nash hopped out of the Range Rover, went to his trunk to retrieve his jumper cables and then walked up toward the Jeep on the passenger side. He could hear a woman howling in pain and quickened his steps.

Tapping on the window, he yelled, “Do you need help?” making sure to keep both hands in sight. Because of the shadow, he couldn’t make out the woman’s face but he could hear her cries. She was sprawled across the back of the car. One leg was on the back headrest and other was on the floor. He averted his gaze.

“Y-yes,” she called out, in distress.

Nash stiffened. There was something about that voice…

But then she said something that made Nash panic. “I’m in l-labor and it’s t-too early,” she said, hiccupping. “I was tr-trying to get to a h-hospital, b-but the baby is comi-i-in-ng.” She dissolved into fresh tears. “I d-don’t know wh-what to d-do.” She tilted her head back and wailed. “My ph-phone d-died.”

Nash had delivered a calf for the first time about three weeks ago, but he was ill-equipped to assist with bringing this woman’s baby into the world. He yanked his cell phone out of his pocket, then called 9-1-1 and gave them his name, and a quick rundown of what was happening, turning his back to give the lady privacy.

He heard the clacking of keys before the operator said, “My name is Anna. The ambulance is on its way.”

A loud groan came from behind him. “Hurry,” he said, tamping down the sudden fear that he might actually have to deliver this baby out here in these back roads.

“I’ll stay on the phone with you until the EMTs arrive. Can you tell me how far apart are her contractions?” Anna asked.

Nash opened the door and hunched his lanky frame inside, making sure not to bump his head. “How far apart are—” He felt his eyes go wide when he saw the woman, whose face was wet with perspiration. “Imani?” His mind raced.

Imani was here.

Imani was pregnant.

Imani was…in labor?

She lifted her head, her mouth popping open. “Nash? What are y-you—” A fresh contraction hit, cutting off her words. She closed her eyes and leaned deeper into the back seat. “I—I can’t do this,” she sobbed. Imani’s eyebrows bunched together, and her lips pinched tight.

His heart hammered while his mind tried to grapple with what he was witnessing. Imani was pregnant…about to deliver a baby by the side of the road. How was any of this real?

“Sir? Hello? Are you there?” the voice on the phone asked. But all Nash could do was shake his head, his feet shackled to the ground. He was too overwhelmed to formulate words. To process what was happening.

Nash began to do the actual math in his head. Is it possible that…? No, no, it couldn’t be.

“Help me-e-e-ee,” Imani wailed, interrupting his flow of thoughts. “The baby is coming.”

“Oh, God. The baby isn’t waiting,” he boomed into the phone, cupping his head with his free hand. “What do I do?”

“Okay, I’ll walk you through all the steps but I need you to stay calm.”

“Stay calm? Stay calm when a child is coming?” he yelled out. Imani was now crying. Seeing her body convulse alarmed him.

“Mom is already scared. You don’t want her panicking,” the operator said, the voice of reason. How could she sound so blasé when the most scary, miraculous thing was about to happen before his eyes? She urged him to inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.

To his surprise, that even, steady tone relaxed him. Somewhat. He followed her lead, then drew in a long, deep breath and squared his shoulders. “Okay. Okay. I’ll try.”

“Good—now, do you have a blanket or anything?”

Blanket! “Y-yes, I’ve got one in the back of my truck.”

“Great, go get it. Put the phone on speaker so Mom can hear while you go get the blanket.”

“I’ll be right back,” he said, doing as the operator asked.

“N-no, don’t leave me again,” Imani begged, eyes welling.

That face gutted his heart. “I’m not leaving you,” he assured her quietly, “I’m just getting a blanket.” She pierced him with a gaze before giving him a jerky nod. He dashed to get it, his heart thumping along the way.

He returned in time hear her scream. Oh, Lord, if she kept crying like that, he was going to fall apart. He couldn’t stand her being in pain.

“Owww,” Imani moaned, then panted, her eyes closed, her head moving back and forth. “I’ve got to push.”

“I know you do,” the operator said. “But I’ll tell you when.”

Nash swallowed and cleared his throat. He could hear the faint sounds of the ambulance but there was no telling how far away it was. Anna directed Nash to place the blanket under her legs—which was a monumental feat between contractions—and then he was holding one of her hands. Well, more like she was squeezing his hand like it was a sponge, while he was yelling her at to push.

The ambulance in the distance was getting louder and louder. Closer and closer.

“Push, Imani! That’s it. That’s it. You got this.”

She released his hand and gripped the edge of the seat. Finally, after one final strong grunt, a baby boy entered the world.

In his hands.

Whoa.

Body shaking, this time with a mingling of laughter and tears, Imani stretched her hands toward Nash. He placed the precious package in her arms, through his own wall of tears, while she hugged and kissed her baby. Somehow, Nash remembered to record the moment and snapped a picture of Imani and the newborn.

He heard the operator asking if the newborn had cried, but then the EMTs arrived and worked on clamping the umbilical cord. Nash fought back more tears when they extended the offer to him to cut the cord. What an honor.

Moving quickly, they wrapped the baby in a blanket. Then Imani’s son opened his mouth and let out a piercing bellow.

The EMT worker was about to hand Imani the baby, but she gestured for him to give her son to Nash and asked for his phone.

Squaring his shoulders, he scooped the infant that already had a hold on his heart close to his chest. The emotional weight of the moment was his undoing. He could hear Imani’s sniffles as his gaze pinned on the tiny curious eyes looking back at him, as he took in the fingers, the toes, the perfection. He patted the small head filled with light brown curls.

The next thing Nash knew, the baby was being gently extricated out of his tight grasp by the EMT, who was telling him they needed to get mother and child to the hospital. He registered the other paramedic helping Imani out of the rear of the Jeep and rushed to assist. She tossed Nash his phone, then yelled for him to grab two bags out of her trunk and to get her keys out of the ignition. One was a baby bag, she said, and one was her “motherhood” satchel, which she had kept stowed there. There were also a couple shopping bags and a huge weekender that she said she didn’t need.

Right before they placed her on the gurney, Imani gripped his hand. He snatched her close, needing the connection. She snuggled into him as they embraced, rocking back and forth, crying tears of joy and relief.

“You did good,” he whispered, then took a picture of Imani and the baby, even as he heard the EMTs saying once more that they had to get to the hospital.

Imani nodded, then cupped his head and whispered, “And, you just delivered your son.”

Chapter Three

Rarely was he ever without words. But when Imani whispered that sentiment to him, confirming what he’d known in heart to be true, Nash lost his breath. 

He had a son.

One whom he had helped find his way into this world.

And his life would never be the same.

That stunning revelation buzzed around his mind as he watched the ambulance depart. Without him. He kept his eyes peeled until the vehicle was out of sight. Nash ached to get over to the hospital, but he knew he couldn’t leave without securing Imani’s vehicle. Rushing into action, he called for a tow truck. He’d have them drop the Jeep at his place for now.

All throughout the call, he thought of Imani’s face as the ambulance doors closed. She had those brown eyes trained on him, their child in her arms. She had waved, like she was saying goodbye, like she had no expectations she would see him again.

His gut twisted. Was that what Imani wanted why she had kept her pregnancy a secret from him? To raise her child alone? As soon as the thought occurred, he chastised himself. She was probably honoring his wishes. Imani was an independent, proud woman and his desire never to be a father had created the rift between them that had ended their relationship. Of course, she wouldn’t reach out.

Though he understood her reasoning, his heart hurt and his conscience churned.

How could he have known that the few seconds of holding such precious cargo would cause such a life-altering shift?

Regret whipped at him. He had missed seeing Imani’s tummy grow round with their child. Had missed hospital visits—seeing his son’s development in the womb, hearing his heartbeat. He gripped the back of his head and bunched his lips as he faced the knowledge that he could never get those moments back.

What if he hadn’t driven this path this evening? He released a guttural groan. Would he have ever known? Would she have ever told him?

He could have gone on with his life, unaware, while there would have been a child yearning for him. A child with a cavity in his heart because of an absentee father. Nash clenched his fists. He couldn’t let that happen.

But did he have the skills? That fear gnawed at him. Casper Windham hadn’t. It wasn’t far-fetched to believe Nash didn’t, either.

Maybe he should stay far away from Imani.

Then his thoughts flipflopped. But his son’s piercing eyes served as a siren for his soul. Nash couldn’t keep his distance just yet. He would at least check on the baby and Imani at the hospital.

Nash placed another call, this time to his brother Arlo, who answered on the second ring. “Hey, bro. Something came up—Something came up? How distinctly vague. It was more like a meteorite had crashed into his life, obliterating his status quo. But mentally, he wasn’t at the place where he could share the truth just yet. Nash snaked a hand through his hair. “I won’t make it back to the ranch in time for the feed delivery. Miss Phyllis said she would call the ranch office when it was on its way. Do you think you can cover for me?”

“Yeah, right,” Arlo snorted. “You just don’t want to deal with Miss Phyllis. Everybody knows she’s sweet on you.”

Picturing the older woman with poufy blond hair that they believed to be in her seventies, and who ran the register at the Longhorn Feed Store, Nash gave a little laugh. “Stop it. She messes with everybody that goes in there. Not just me.”

“Yeah, but you’re the one she says has the—” his voice took on a high pitch “—movie-star looks.” 

This was what he didn’t like about having siblings. A little extra attention from an older, slightly eccentric woman was fodder for some good old-fashioned ribbing.

Nash rolled his eyes, then said, “No, this has nothing to do with Miss Phyllis” in a much more serious tone.

“Wait…are you okay?”

The concern in his brother’s voice threatened to snap the small thread of his control. “I hope to be,” Nash answered, his tone grave.

The line was quiet for a second. Nash imagined his brother was telling himself not to pry. After a beat, Arlo cleared his throat and said, “I’ll take care of the feed. Handle your business and I’m here if you need.”

“Thank you.” As soon as the call ended, the tow truck came. Once he had Imani’s vehicle squared away, he jumped in his SUV to make his way back to the hospital. The trip had his heart pounding just like before, but this time the reason was much more palpable.

He was on his way to see his child.

Surreal.

That knowledge made him grip the wheel tightly. Nash used the voice-calling app and got his mother on the phone. Since she currently lived alone, he and his siblings made a point of calling or visiting with her once a week. But today wouldn’t be just a random conversation. Today, he was reaching out because he had a dire need.

Wendy answered, sounding oddly cheerful, more than she had been in months. Normally, he would have questioned his mother about her uncharacteristically chipper behavior, but she didn’t give him an opening to respond as she yammered on about some sewing or knitting something special. He wasn’t processing all she was saying, but to be fair, but he had big news filling his brain.

“Mom.” She kept talking.

A little louder. “Mom.” She still didn’t hear him. Nash interrupted Wendy in midsentence with a firmer tone, to drop his news bomb. “Mom, I just delivered my baby.”

A harsh intake of breath. Then silence for a beat before she breathed out, “Say what?”

“You heard right. I have a son,” he croaked out, grappling with the unbelievability of those words. As of less than an hour ago, Nash was living a new reality.

“Son, if you’re pulling my leg right now, this isn’t funny.”

“I’m not joking.”

“You mean I’m a grandmother again?” she boomed. Oh, she was definitely listening to him now. Nash used the button on his steering wheel to lower the volume. “This is one hot season for my kids falling in love, having babies or finding babies.”

She sure was right. One of his younger sisters, Sabrina, was now five months pregnant with twins she called Peach and Plum, and Ridge had indeed found a three-month-old baby, Evie, in a haystack, right along with her mother, whom Ridge called Hope since she didn’t remember who she was. Nash could hardly keep up.

“Nash, did you hear me?” Wendy asked.

“I’m sorry, Mom. Did you say something?”

“I asked if you’d fill in details for me, son. Like, who is this mystery woman? And did you know about the pregnancy?”

“It’s Imani.” He waited for that bit of news to settle.

“Imani?” she screeched a few seconds later. “As in Imani Porter? Man, you’re just laying it on me, right now. You know how much I loved Imani. I thought she was perfect for you. Remember?” Her voice escalated as she rattled on. “Wait. She’s here in Chatelaine? What’s she doing all the way out here? Hang on, did she move here from Cactus Grove? What are the odds? But what about her company? Oh, my goodness. Imani!”

Nash lifted a hand even though his mother wouldn’t be able to see his gesture. “Mom, you have to slow down so I can answer even one of your questions,” he chuckled.

“Oh. Okay…good point. You caught me off guard. Whew, let me take a sip of this lemonade and then I’ll let you talk.”

“Sounds good.” When Nash heard a refreshing sigh, he smiled and began. “I was on my way back from the hospital after checking in on Stanley, when I decided to take the back roads. And I spotted this Jeep on the side of the road at an odd angle. I don’t know why but something made me turn around, and I’m glad I did because there was this woman hollering that she was in labor. So I called 9-1-1 and when I stuck my head inside, I saw Imani. Imani.” Even talking about it aloud, Nash still couldn’t believe it. “The funny thing is, she had been pressed on my mind and the next thing I knew, I was helping her deliver our child. My son.”

“Wow…. Just wow.” She didn’t say anything for several beats. “Imagine that.” The fact that his mom appeared awed and at a loss for words was rare. 

“Yeah, with everything going on, I didn’t get a chance to ask her any questions, like what she was doing here.” A thought struck. “Unless she was on her way to find me?” Hope sprung wide like a flower in bloom. Maybe Imani had intended to tell him that she was having his child, but had gone into labor along the way.

“Whatever the reason, you were meant to be there at that precise time,” his mother said. “You were meant to see your child enter this world, and you’re destined to be in his life. What’s his name?”

The fact that he had no idea made Nash once again question his place in his offspring’s life. “I don’t know, Mom.”

“Oh.”

Inadequacy lashed his heart. What kind of father didn’t ask the basic question, like his child’s name?

“With everything going on, I didn’t think to ask. I was just relieved that Imani was alright and that little man was crying—man, do his lungs work…”

“Don’t go reading anything into that,” Wendy cautioned. Dang, his mother was a mind reader. As usual. She continued, “For all you know, Imani may not have picked out a name yet. I know Casper and I had no idea what to call baby number six. I still don’t know how we came up with Ridge, but it fits.”

When he remained quiet, she added, “Shake it off, son. It sounds as if this baby made a surprise appearance. What matters is that he’s healthy.”

Trust his mom to defend his oversight and offer up a rational excuse. Nash swerved off the road and onto the curb. He cupped his head and admitted, “I don’t know if I can do this, Mom. I don’t know if I can be a father. It’s not like I had an exemplary role model.”

“Son, you can and you have to. You’re too hard on yourself and I blame Casper for that. Nothing you did was good enough. You don’t even see your awesome accomplishment today. Lots of new fathers pass out or lose control during childbirth. Your own father threw up in the delivery room when you and Jade were born. I applaud you for your courage and for being there when Imani needed you most.”

His lips quirked as he pulled back onto the road. “This is the first I’m hearing that about my father.” He refused to refer to Casper as Dad anymore.

“Well, Casper was a proud man and he was all about appearances. He felt showing weakness was unmanly. Which was plain dumb. No nicer way to say that.” His mother released a long plume of air. He could imagine her pacing back and forth as she emphasized her point. “Look, I know your father did his share of damage but you are one-half me as well and I’d like to think I was a good mother.”

“Not just good, Mom. You were—are—the best. You singlehandedly raised six of us, practically on your own. We are all thriving because of you.”

“Oh, thank you for that.” Her voice hitched. “Someday in the future, your child will say the same about you. Trust me on that.”

Wendy’s quiet certainty pierced through his doubts, and he exhaled. “Okay, Mom. I’ll start by establishing visitation with Imani and I’ll put in an ad for a nanny—

“No. No, nanny, son. You need to be hands-on,” Wendy insisted. “How else are you going to know for sure if fatherhood is for you?”

“Okay, Mom. I will do my best.”

That was the best response he could give without lying to his mom. Nash wasn’t as convinced as Wendy seemed to be in his potential parenting skills. The fact was that he was a product of Casper Windham as well—an absentee father—which couldn’t be so easily discounted.

“Have you told your sisters and brothers yet?” Wendy asked, once again jutting into his thoughts.

“Not yet. I’m very much still trying to wrap my mind around all this.”

“This is not the time to isolate yourself, son,” his mother warned. “This is the time to embrace us, to allow us to be your strength and to celebrate with you.”

Nash relaxed his shoulders and leaned back into the seat. “Once again, you’re right, Mom. This is why I had to talk to you first. You help me get my head right. As soon as I’ve visited with Imani, I’ll let everyone know.”

“Alright. I’ll await your call to come see my grandchild.”

“You got it.”

After hanging up, Nash turned into the parking lot of the hospital and scanned the lot for a spot. He found one near the entrance and pulled in. Somewhere in that building was the mother of his son and his child.

That knowledge humbled and grounded him. Nash opened the door and ventured out, then strolled across the lot. Snapping his fingers, he decided to make a stop at the gift shop. There was no way he was going to enter that hospital room with Imani and his future heir empty-handed. After all, he was a Fortune now, and so was his son—he hoped to give his progeny his last name—and what was the point in having money if he didn’t splurge when it counted?

But as it turns out, his last name had drawn a small group of onlookers including the press. Well, press was too generous a word for the two reporters in their town. He had provided his name to the 9-1-1 operator and somehow, the staff at The Chatelaine Daily News must have learned that Nash Fortune had helped a pregnant woman and were labeling him a hero. Ever since Sabrina talked him into plastering his face on that billboard across from the GreatStore in town as the face of the Fortune Family Ranch, he couldn’t do anything without being recognized.

It was a daggone nuisance.

The reporters peppered Nash with questions—this was definitely juicier than cattle ranching—but he declined to provide a statement and made his way to the gift shop. However, they got their money shot of him carrying an oversize teddy bear and a gift basket.

Great. That picture would be front-page news in Chatelaine Hills. Thank goodness, they didn’t know it was his son. Yet. When the elevator doors closed, Nash knew he had to get ahead of the gossip mill. The last thing he wanted was for his siblings to learn about the newest addition to the family from anybody but him. Nash sent a text to the group chat.

Guess who became a father today?

Then he shut down his phone.

Order Your Copy

From Harlequin Fortunes of Texas:

Book 1: Fortune's Secret Marriage by Jo McNally
Book 2: Nine Months to a Fortune by Elizabeth Bevarly
Book 3: Fortune's Faux Engagement by Carrie Nichols
Book 4: A Fortune Thanksgiving by Michelle Lindo-Rice
Book 5: Fortune's Holiday Surprise by Jennifer Wilck
Book 6: Fortune's Mystery Woman by Allison Leigh

A recluse in need of affection and a television star in need of redemption…
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Thirteen years ago, a tragic fire left junior prom queen Eden Tempest orphaned and scarred, inside and out. Now she’s the town recluse—isolated, mysterious and emotionally guarded…the complete opposite of Mason Powers, TV’s most famous renovator. Yet Mason is battling his own rocky past—personal and professional. Eden’s plan to renovate her ill grandmother’s home into a bed-and-breakfast is the perfect opportunity for Mason to get back to work and redeem his reputation. And Eden herself…well, their attraction is undeniable. But is their unexpected connection enough to heal both their traumatic pasts and bring their beauty into the light? 

Bonus Story: The Ten-Day Bargain

Chapter OneWhen Eden Tempest woke up that morning on the first day of May and heard nothing but birds chirping outside her window, she was all smiles. She wrapped her long tresses in a bun, slapped on sunscreen, donned a long-sleeved shirt, shorts, rain boots and a wide-brimmed hat before bounding down the stairs to eat a breakfast bar and gulp down a glass of orange juice. She grabbed her gardening tools and gloves.“It’s barely six a.m.,” her grandmother Susan called out from her bedroom just behind the kitchen. “Where are you going?”“The sun is finally out and I’ve got to go check on my rosebushes,” she yelled back.“I’ll be out in a few.”“Okay, Grams.”It sounded like her grandmother was still in bed, which wasn’t like the energetic sixty-nine-year-old. Usually Grams would have had biscuits, gravy and eggs ready and would be getting started on dinner or heading out to the farmers market to purchase fresh produce. But Grams had spent most of the evening before cracking walnuts to make her famous black walnut cake. So, Eden suspected that task had tuckered out the older woman.Eden ventured through the back door in the kitchen, the screen door swishing shut behind her. She stood still when she saw a family of deer munching by an overgrown thicket and bowed trees near the fence. A bee buzzed by her ear. She tilted her head and swatted at it, her movement causing the deer to flee into the woods nearby.She tugged her hat low on her face and surveyed the one acre of land, surrounded by the iron fence bent like an elderly person with a hump. There was a dilapidated shed in the right corner, the slats gray and covered in moss, as well as an old gazebo where her grandmother used to host weddings or social gatherings for the town of Blue Hen, Delaware. She could still see the ladies and girls twirling in their bright summer dresses, and the men in casual wear milling about the yard, talking and laughing and eating from the spread on the table in the center of the yard. The last event had been thirteen years ago for Eden’s sixteenth birthday. The day her life and her grandmother’s changed…forever.That’s why she didn’t celebrate birthdays.Her eyes misted. She dipped her head and turned to look at the once-majestic two-story, seven-bedroom bed-and-breakfast, with the paint chipped and blackened with soot. The gutters needed cleaning and the vines had claimed a lot of the room. No wonder the people of Blue Hen called their house haunted, especially after… Nope. It was best for her psyche if she stopped thinking about it. It took some effort, but she shrugged off the gargantuan memories and stomped through high grass and weeds to the best-kept area in the backyard: her rose garden.She inhaled, appreciating the smell of fresh rain and the heat of the sun. It had rained for three days and she feared her rosebushes had been overwatered. They weren’t due to bloom until June, right on time for the yearly rose festival. Eden prided herself on having the most fragrant and beautiful roses in town. Every year, for the past ten years, her roses had won first prize at the Blue Hen Rose Fest and this year would be no different. Hopefully. If the rain hadn’t caused irreparable damage.Carefully, she lifted the bushes and squatted low to inspect the roots. There was no evidence of rotting, a common result of overwatering. Eden exhaled, her shoulders slumping. She steadied herself to keep from falling on her butt. Wearing tan-colored shorts might not have been the right choice, seeing as how the earth was damp and wet. Next, she checked the leaves to see if they had yellowed or were spotted. She saw nothing but green. Yes!She stood and wiped her hands on her shorts before grabbing the small bench she kept by the back door and started her pruning. She snipped and shaped and removed dead tissue; doting on her roses, ignoring the sun rays on her back and the sweat pouring from every crevice of her body. By the time she was finished, her boots and hands were covered in mud, three hours had passed and her skin was the shade of bronze.She needed a tall, cold glass of water. And a shower.Stepping back, Eden stood to take in the results of her labor, wiping her hands on her shorts. Beautiful. She pumped her fists. All this would be worth it when her grandmother came home with the first-prize trophy to put with the others on the mantel.Speaking of her grandmother… Eden raced back into the house and tugged off her boots.“Grams!” she yelled, but all was quiet. Her grandmother was nowhere about, and it was close to nine thirty. That was odd.She washed her hands in one of the deep double sinks and helped herself to a tall glass of water then scuttled into her grandmother’s room to find Grams nestled under the covers.Eden heard a moan. “Are you all right?”“My tummy hurts,” Grams said, her body curled, her voice weak.“Should I call Dr. Goodwin?” Eden crept closer. Her grandmother’s face was beaded with sweat.“No, it was probably the ice cream I ate last night.” Grams was seriously lactose intolerant but that didn’t stop her from indulging in the treat.“Let me get you some tea,” Eden offered, her heart beating fast in her chest. She couldn’t remember when she had ever seen her grandmother bedridden. Grams must have eaten the entire pint. Unless it something more serious. Eden put on the kettle using the front burner that worked. The right one had stopped working about a year ago. The walls, painted buttercup yellow, the matching checkered curtains—slightly tattered—and the worn appliances could use an upgrade. Grams hadn’t changed anything in close to fourteen years. It was like the house had been frozen in time since her parents’ passing.Opening the cupboard, Eden searched for a mug that wasn’t chipped then dug into the drawer next to the stove for a spoon. She rifled through the different kinds of teas in a jar on the countertop—chamomile, Earl Grey, lemon—until she found a bag of ginger-and-honey. Please let this solve whatever ails Grams.Eden lifted the lid of the cake stand where her grandmother stored freshly baked scones then placed one on a plate. Eden chose a large orange from the fruit basket on the tiled counter, her gaze falling on the oversize wall calendar and the big X on the date.June 26. Her thirtieth birthday.Her stomach knotted, and her hands shook as she cut into the orange and rested the slices on the plate. “It’s just another day,” she said, voice shaky. She drew deep, long breaths. “You’ll be all right.” Eden needed to make a tele-appointment with her therapist, who she used to see weekly until she had transitioned to an as-needed basis.The kettle whistled and she poured the ginger-and-honey tea into the cup, the spoon making a light clink as she stirred. She gathered a wooden lap tray and placed the tea, the orange slices and some crackers on it, before making her way to the back room, rattling along the way and set it on the nightstand. Grams appeared to be sleeping. Eden touched her grandmother’s forehead and gasped. Fever. Hot, roasting fever.This was definitely not lactose intolerance.She tried to shake Grams awake but the older woman was pretty lethargic. Panic raced through Eden’s body. Her grandmother wouldn’t approve but she called Dr. Goodwin from their landline since she didn’t own a cell phone. What was the point? She never went anywhere. Eden did, however, have the most up-to-date computer. But that was because she needed it to teach her online courses for Blue Hen College. Eden taught English literature and composition courses to college freshmen and sophomores.Twenty minutes later, she opened the front door, making sure to keep her neck semihidden, and the doctor went in to check on Grams. Eden used that time to shower, wash her hair and slip into a blue long-sleeved baby doll dress. She put on her hat and hurried down the stairs just in time to hear the bedroom door creak open.In a flash, Eden was by his side. “Is Grams all right?”He shook his head, his tone grim. “She’s been doing too much. I’m putting her on bed rest for now.”Bed rest? “What’s wrong?” she asked, wringing her hands.“You’ll have to talk with your grandmother about that,” he said, marching toward the door.“Wait,” Eden called out. “Is it me? Did I somehow cause this?”“No, my child. She’s almost seventy. Some things happen with age. Talk to her.”“Okay, I will. I can’t lose her,” she whispered. “She’s all I have.”Doctor Goodwin, the town physician, and the only one besides her grandmother who she trusted, gave Eden a look of compassion. “This house is too big for the both of you to manage by yourselves. You should think of hiring some help.”Eden stepped back and lifted a hand. She watched the exact moment his eyes took in her scars and shoved her hands in the pockets of her dress. “No one will want to work in the haunted house, and I—I can’t be seen like this. I’m gossip fodder.”“Dear, there’s more to you than what’s on the outside,” the doctor said. “There’s a whole world out there for you to enjoy.”“I won’t be ridiculed or be made into the town laughingstock again.” She shuddered, remembering how she had been taunted and teased when she had ventured into town after the fire.“That was almost thirteen years ago. Things are different now. Even you’re different,” he urged. “You’re not the same person you were all those nights ago. It’s time you forgive yourself.” Every time the doctor came to visit, he urged Eden to step out of her self-imposed cocoon. This house had become her haven since that fateful day. She never left, a prisoner of her past and fears.“People don’t change,” she said, walking over to hold open the door. “And as for forgiving myself…” She shook her head, unable to continue from the heartache and guilt.“Think about it. You don’t want to end up alone, filled with regret for what you didn’t do or should have done.” After giving her a pat on her cheek, the doctor departed.Eden trudged into the room to talk with her grandmother. Grams was now sitting up and sipping the tea. Grams’s mother had been Chinese and her Jamaican father had been biracial, mixed with Black so Grams had inherited her mother’s tiny frame and her father’s olive color. Grams got a kick out people always trying to figure out her race. She would quip I belong to the human race every time they asked. Eden’s mother had looked a lot like Grams while Eden had inherited her own father’s height. Eden’s father had been from Louisiana, and she had inherited his red curly hair, his cognac-colored eyes and skin the color of sun-kissed sand. She felt like a giant next to Grams, standing at five-feet-eleven to Grams’s five-feet-two. Grams would often say Eden had legs for days and beauty for a lifetime, which was why she had been crowned Junior Prom Queen at her high school. But that was history, a lifetime ago,“Come sit here next to me, baby,” Grams said, putting the cup down and patting the bed. Her long black hair hung to her shoulders and she looked frail.Eden complied. “What’s going on, Grams?” she asked, her lips quivering. “What aren’t you telling me?”“I’m not well. I…” She averted her eyes. “Dr. Goodwin ran some tests. We aren’t sure what’s wrong but I’ve got to take it easy.”“How long have you been feeling like this?” Eden asked, scooting close, inhaling the powder-and-lavender scent her grandmother always wore.“I’ve known for a while but I didn’t want to scare you.” Grams wiped her eyes. “I’ve got a good amount of matured certificates of deposits and most of your parents’ death benefits saved but I’m worried about how you’re going to maintain this property long-term. I think it’s time we consider selling this place so you can have those funds when I’m gone.”Eden touched her chest. “No. No. We can’t sell. This has been in our family for decades. That’s out of the question. Besides, I make good money teaching online.”“That’s not enough to cover your living expenses. If you don’t want to sell, then we’ve got to get the bed-and-breakfast going again. It would mean so much to me to restore this house as one of the best places to visit in town.” Grams’s voice wobbled. “You don’t know how much it hurts to have the neighborhood kids call this place haunted.”Every Halloween, they had their house egged or papered.Though her insides quaked at the thought of strangers traipsing through their home, Eden nodded. “After all you have done for me, how can I say no?” She gave a little laugh. “I just don’t want to repulse the guests.”Her grandmother lifted the hat off Eden’s face and ran her fingers down the scar leading from Eden’s neck down to her left arm and hands. Eden sat still, clenching her jaw.“You don’t see what I see,” Grams whispered. “You’re beautiful, inside and out. I wish you would believe me when I tell you that.”Eden looked down at her hands and changed the subject. “The roses are going to be magnificent this year.”“They aren’t the only thing that’s magnificent. In time, my dear, I hope you’ll truly see how valuable, how priceless you are.” With a sigh, her grandmother drew Eden into her arms and kissed the top of her head. For someone who was burning up not too long ago, Grams felt cool. Odd. Maybe Dr. Goodwin had given her something. “Now let’s get back to the house. We need to put an ad in the town paper, hire a handyman of sorts… Maybe you can make a flyer.”All she could do was nod, watching Grams’s flashing eyes as she went on about her plans for the bed-and-breakfast. Eden didn’t have the heart to tell her that no one would come. Because no one wanted to work for the girl they called the town monster.
Chapter TwoEven a beast deserved a second chance. But his producers didn’t think so. His fans didn’t think so. And his rumored married lover didn’t think so, either.Mason Powers sat the computer desk off the living-room area and read the email from his agent for the fourth time then bunched his fists. His television show, Powers Property Rescue, based in Columbus, Ohio, had been put on hiatus—which was code for canceled—while they worked out his severance pay.The sad thing was, he was solely to blame.He had let the fame and the fortune swell his head. Now he was hiding out from everyone at his agent’s home in Blue Hen since the scandal broke. Who lived in Delaware? But he couldn’t complain because no one, especially his estranged brother, wanted to have anything to do with him—and though Mason had good reason, he couldn’t blame Max.The chair scraped the floor when he stood and with every step the wood creaked. However, the plumbing and structure in the home was sound. Plus, all the appliances worked. He walked to the window. There was nothing but woods and cornfields for miles with the odd house here and there.Ugh. He had only been there a week, but Mason had to get out and talk to someone. He couldn’t stand his own company at the moment. All he had done was watch the video circling the internet of him giving one of the workers from his show a serious put-down before firing him. All because the man had selected the wrong tile for their home renovation. That’s right. Mason admitted his behavior had been ghastly but that didn’t mean someone should have photoshopped him into a fire-breathing dragon. The internet was ruthless. And he was a joke.Before he was jobless, Mason was a sought-after home renovator, handling both the interior and exterior redesign, until he had been dubbed The Ogre of Ohio. His weekly show had been sitting pretty at the number three spot on cable television but had since plummeted into oblivion right along with his job prospects.Everyone had left him.Except for his agent, Lydia.His supposed girlfriend had blocked him on social media and on her cell phone. Not that he minded. The media had made more of their relationship than what was true.He stormed over to the table, stuck his cap on his head and grabbed the keys to his four-wheel drive pickup before starting up the engine. He backed out of the driveway with force, loving how the gravel spewed in his wake down the long driveway. Whew. Mason took a deep breath and decelerated once he was out on the main road, if one could call the narrow strip of pavement that. He remembered passing a deli and a department store a couple miles back and headed in that direction. Three miles later, all he saw was land. He must have made a wrong turn. Since there was no one else around, Mason decided to execute a U-turn. The minute he did that, he heard a loud pop.Pop. Squish. Pop. Squish.The sounds of his right front tire losing air.Mason inched onto the curb and cut the engine. He dug into his jeans pocket for his cell phone but there was no service. Slamming a hand on the steering wheel, he shoved the door open with enough force that it swung on its hinges. Then he stomped over to investigate the damage before kicking the hubcap. There was a deep gash, which meant he was stuck here.Clamping his jaw, he had no choice but to start walking. It was high noon and it was hot. His fury escalated with each step. A half mile down the road, he stopped by a rickety fence, bent low enough that he wondered why the owners hadn’t just ripped it out. Then he looked at the house about an eighth of a mile from the gate. It was an odd shade of green. No. It looked like it might have been a light gray before all the moss and dried-up vines covered the house. And the lawn! The lawn had to be about eighteen inches high. If it weren’t for the 1970s pickup in the yard, he would have thought the property had been abandoned. He wiped a hand on his jeans. It probably should be condemned and it was an echo of the desolation he felt.The numbers on the mailbox said 345 and the street sign said Middle of Nowhere. This couldn’t be real. Someone in this town had a ridiculous sense of humor.Slowly, he made his way up the extended driveway, half-expecting a ghoul or some relative of the Addams Family to jump out at him. But he hoped they had a restroom, so he didn’t have to whizz on the side of the road. The closer he got, the more he saw that needed fixing.On the porch, there was a huge sign on a couch the color of lizard green that said Middle of Nowhere Bed-and-Breakfast. He rolled his eyes. Really?Running up the three steps to the porch, Mason then pressed the doorbell several times before deciding to rap on the door. He cupped his face and peered into the window. Someone was in there. Someone hovered close.“Hello? Can you please let me in?” he asked.“Go—go away,” a voice said from the other side of the door. “We don’t want your business and I’ve already found Jesus. He was never lost.”Mason cracked up. “I’m not selling anything. I broke down a couple miles back and I really have to use the bathroom. I rang the doorbell…”“It doesn’t work.”Figures. He was not surprised.After a brief moment, the door cracked open and all he could see was a single suspicious eye trained on him. Mason lifted his hands. “Please, I don’t have service around here and I need to get a new tire.”“Eden, let the poor man inside,” another voice called out.“Yes, Eden, please let me in,” Mason echoed.She opened the door and spun away before could get a good look at his rescuer. He stepped across the threshold and gasped. It was like he had stepped back in time. The furnishings and decorations were outdated. He would bet some of the art and decor was from the early eighties. He tilted his head. The foundation appeared to be secure but this place needed some serious TLC. It wasn’t dirty. In fact, he could see the glasses sparkling in the wall unit nearby. It was that they were…dated. Definitely not antique, which would be considered chic.This place needed an overhaul.“Well, are you going to stand there gazing or are you going to go handle your business?”Mason jumped. “I’m sorry. I was just taking it all in.”An older woman stood leaning against the wall and crooked her head. Her eyes shone and her smile seemed friendly. “Came to see the haunted house for yourself, huh?”“What? I don’t know what you mean.” He shook his head. He had better get out of here. “Where is your restroom, please?”She pointed to the left. “You can see your way out when you’re done.” With that she shuffled off in the opposite direction. The younger woman had also ventured off, though he felt eyes on him. She was probably lurking close by to make sure he didn’t take anything. With a shrug, Mason walked down the narrow hallway and opened the first door he found. Luckily, it was a half bath smaller than a linen closet. He dipped his head, shut the door and clamped a hand over his mouth.Pink. Frilly, pink curtains with a matching toilet seat cover. If he were on his show, he would be feigning outrage and ripping these off and tossing them out on the lawn.He relieved himself and washed his hands before bending down to peer into the mirror made to accommodate someone of a much shorter stature. Goodness. This place needed…him. It could be magnificent.Drying his hands with a paper towel placed on top of the toilet cistern, Mason then opened the door and returned to the living-room area. Wow. No one was around. They really were going to let a stranger roam their house at will. Unbothered. Unconcerned. Unheard of in this day and time.“The exit is to your right,” someone said from the staircase. Curious, Mason advanced and held onto the banister. “What are you doing?” Her voice sounded shaky, unsure.“I just wanted to say thank you,” he said. “I’m new here in town.” He could see her shadow as she lurked by the turn. Talk about shy. Skittish.He placed a foot on the step.“Where are you going?” she asked, sounding fearful.“Sorry.” He took off his cap and ran his fingers through his damp coils. “Do you think I could have some water?”A hand pointed in no specific direction. “Go help yourself in the kitchen. It’s just past the living room. Have a scone. You must be hungry.”“All right, thank you.” Mason followed her directions, feeling slightly uneasy. This has got to be the weirdest encounter he had ever had. And in his line of work—well, former line of work—Mason had met some folks with strange quirks. He entered the kitchen and saw three beautiful scones beckoning to him from under a glass cake stand.His stomach growled. He hadn’t eaten anything but a banana that morning. Mouth watering, Mason walked toward the counter. He felt like he was living a real-life version of a thriller film and the drawn blinds and dark interior added to the overall mystique. If he ate one of the desserts, would he pass out and wake up bound and gagged?Then he chuckled. His imagination was putting in overtime. But it sort of felt like the place was enchanted. Mason took out his cell phone, relieved to see he had bars. He made a quick call to get a tow truck. Mason bit into one of the tastiest, fluffiest treats he had ever had. He groaned.“Delicious, isn’t it?”Once again, he jumped, this time fumbling to keep the treat from falling to the floor. The elderly woman had returned. “Yes, very,” he said, taking another bite. “I didn’t hear you approach.”Her lips quirked. He suspected she quite enjoyed spooking him out. She picked up a leg. “It’s the socks.”“Grams, you need to be in bed.” From the corner of his eye, Mason saw a wide-brimmed hat and half of a body.“Nonsense,” Grams said, walking to the refrigerator. He noticed she was moving slow and was hunched over. “We have to entertain our visitor. Don’t get much of them for the past thirteen years. Well, none, actually. Not since the fire.” She took out a jug of lemonade and fetched a glass. Coming over to hand it to him, she said, “And such a handsome one at that. What’s your name, sugar?”“Mason,” he said, mouth full of food. “Mason Powers.”“He’s new in town,” the younger woman added. Her voice was light, airy, melodic.“Yes, I realize that,” Grams said, all smiles. “You can call me Susan and my granddaughter’s name is Eden.” Then she grabbed her stomach and screeched as if she were in pain. “I’d better get back into bed. Come back soon, okay?”He nodded. “I will, Ms. Susan.” He sure as heck wouldn’t.The other woman scuttled over, keeping her head bent under that ginormous hat, and helped her grandmother out of the room. Finished with the snack, he took a taste of the most scrumptious, tart-yet-sweet-at-the-same-time lemonade he had ever had. De-li-cious.Well, if this place was enchanted and he was stuck here for life, he would be happy with the food. Mason decided to grab another scone and leaned against the counter to savor the treat. His eyes fell on a small stack of letter-size posters. The words Help Wanted caught his attention. He picked it up.It looked like they were seeking a contractor.“What are you doing?” a voice boomed.Startled, the paper fell from his hands to the floor. What was up with people sneaking up on him? It was the young lady who refused to give her name. “I see you’re looking someone to restore your bed-and-breakfast back to its former glory,” he said, quoting the words on the flyer.She folded her hands. “And what’s it to you?”“Turns out, you’re in luck. I’m well qualified, overqualified actually, but I’ll take the job. I specialize in home makeovers.” Mason doubted she had ever watched his show.“You’re hired,” he heard Ms. Susan yell from the back room.Eden rolled her eyes but didn’t refute her grandmother. He could see that she wanted to though. Badly.Mason popped the scone into his mouth, wiped his hands on his jeans and stuck out his hand. “I can start tomorrow.”She drew to her full height and whipped her hat off her head, her eyes glaring, challenging him. He was struck by her beauty and those incredible eyes. Then he saw the scar on her neck and his heart twisted. Mason wondered what had happened to her. He took a step toward her.Eden lifted a hand, her eyes daring. “Are you sure you want to work here for the town’s beast?”Ah… He knew a thing about being a beast. But it was obvious: her scars were on the outside. His were deeper, darker. She stood, chest heaving, proud, defiant and…vulnerable. He reached out to touch her but before he made contact, she shirked away from him. She bent over to retrieve her hat, placing it just so, so that it hid her face and neck.“I can start tomorrow,” he repeated, gently. “Now I’m sure fate brought me here.”“Suit yourself. Stay out of my way,” she snarled and stomped out of the room.Oh but he had no intention of doing that. Mason intended to be in her way. Very much in her way.Chapter ThreeShe had looked him up on his website. He was legit. And, she was guessing, expensive.“We can’t afford him, Grams. He’s in the big leagues and won’t be satisfied with the small-town life,” she said to her grandmother the next morning as she stood by the doorjamb of Grams’s bedroom with a huge amount of glee. That was her first argument. The second she wouldn’t bring up unless she had to.Eden didn’t know what it was about the tall, lean man with skin the color of ebony, warm brown eyes, and those black, luscious coils that made her insides jump like grasshoppers. Um, she did know, using words like luscious to describe his hair. He was sexy, attractive, and the worst part was, he knew it.No way could she chance that beautiful specimen looking at her with…with repulsion. That’s why she planned on staying out of his way if Mason was about to be a fixture in their house. Having him there for hours on end meant she would have to quarantine in her room. The thought of that made her grit her teeth. Although she occupied the largest of the four suites on the second floor, she didn’t relish not having free rein of the house.“Let’s hear him out first,” Grams whispered, huddling further under her blanket. “I have money saved up for this.” Eden shoved down her concerns for her grandmother’s welfare. She had checked on Grams multiple times through the night until Grams had told her she was all right and to quit her fussing.“I can put up the flyers tonight and see if we get someone else,” Eden said instead, stepping inside. She wasn’t about to go out when everyone was about and the thought of doing so caused her heart to hammer and her palms to sweat.Grams pinned sharp eyes on Eden. “You said yourself no one would want to work here. I thought you would be relieved that we’ve found someone without trying. Someone who showed up on our doorstep at the right time.” Then Grams’s eyes went wide and she placed a hand over her mouth. “You like him?”Eden backtracked. Leave it to her grandmother to pinpoint her real dilemma. “I—I—No, of course not. What’s there to like?” His eyes, his smile, those hands, those lips.“Oh plenty. Plenty, my child. My eyes work just fine.” Grams sat up and Eden clenched her fists to keep from helping.“It’s my body that has a mind of its own,” she huffed, out of breath.“Yes, I can see that.” Eden inched her way inside, deciding not to continue that conversation track around Mason’s good looks. Thankfully, her grandmother didn’t either. Besides, if she had thought about him till the wee hours of the night, and if she took extra care with her clothing choice this morning, she would never admit it.What she would talk about was the other disturbing news she had learned about their new contractor. She cleared her throat. “Grams, I think you need to know that Mason isn’t as charming as he appears. He got fired from his television show because, and I quote, he is the Ogre of Ohio. He mistreated his employees and there’s a clip of his bad behavior all over the internet.”“Pshaw. That’s nothing but gossip. You should know better than anyone that you can’t believe everything you hear. How many lies have been told about us through town?”Shame coursed through her. “But this is different. They have an actual video of his misbehaving.” Her grandmother raised a brow. “Everyone deserves a second chance, don’t you agree?”Yes, how she had yearned for one. How she had ached for her friends to treat her with kindness, instead of looking at her in horror. Eden knew that look on Grams’s face. Nothing would change her mind. Eden lifted a hand. “All right. All right. I’ll leave it alone, but I plan to keep my eyes on him.”“Yes, I think that’s what you need to do,” Grams said with a chuckle.Eden rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I—” She flashed a hand. “Ugh, forget it. Do you want me to make you some tea and bring you something to eat?” It was now close to six and she had to check on her roses but she needed to make sure Grams ate first. Eden would eat after she was finished in the garden. Then she would log online to meet with her freshman Composition classes to review before their final the following week.Grams yawned. “No, I’m good. I just need some rest. I think chopping those walnuts the other day did me in.” Um, that wouldn’t cause a fever or her being bedridden but Eden wouldn’t argue. “Ugh. I’m supposed to make some black walnut cakes for Doc and Kyle.” Kyle worked for Vic’s Grocers, the main supermarket in Blue Hen, as their delivery boy.“I am going to order a couple bags of walnuts from Vic’s, so you don’t have to deal with those anymore.”The fact that Vic’s was housed on a farm meant they often had a great supply of fresh fruit and veggies and Eden planned to get some watermelons, corn, and a couple bags of cherries. Corn was a must. No one had been happier than Eden when Vic’s had finally caught up with the rest of the world and opened up for online shopping and delivery. Now Grams wouldn’t have to drive all the way into town on her own, schlepping bags. Eden made sure to stay out of sight during the drop-off. But with Grams being sick, she would put in a request for Kyle to drop the bags and go. The young man would gladly comply as he tended to spray dust from speeding when he vacated their yard.Grams closed her eyes. “All right. Whatever you think is best.”Those words gave her pause. Her Grams never gave in that easy. “Are you okay, Grams?”“Yes,” she said, nodding, her voice slightly weaker than it had been moments before. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that tea after all.”“Sure thing.” Eden rushed to prepare the brew, tugging her lower lip through her teeth. After getting her grandmother situated with breakfast and her antibiotics, Eden went outside. Surprisingly, the earth felt moist under her boots. Then she recalled the light pinging of raindrops she had heard while checking on Grams and sighed. If this rain kept up, the Rose Fest might not happen this year. She sloshed through the small puddles and squatted near the bush before letting out a gasp.The leaves near the root of the bush had holes in them.Rose slugs.So much for the coffee grounds, and they were out of coffee beans. Eden rushed inside to get a spray bottle, water and vinegar. Seconds later, chest heaving, she realized there was no vinegar. She slapped her forehead. She had used the last of it the week before. She trounced up the stairs to see if she could add it to her online order, but it was too late. Dashing back down the steps, Eden eyed the truck keys on the key ring by the front door. She could borrow the keys and rush into town. It was early enough that her chances of seeing anyone were slim. Maybe she could order and get curbside delivery. Either way she needed to get moving before she had no leaves left.Eden grabbed the keys between her hands and opened the front door, then froze. Her legs stayed rooted to the ground and her stomach felt hollow. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t leave her self-imposed exile, not even for her beloved roses.She shut the door and bunched her fists. She was going to spray them with the water hose and remove the slugs one by one if she had to. Eden hated touching the slick critters but what choice did she have? Swinging around, she stomped toward the back of the house. Just before she walked through the door, the house phone rang.She scurried over to answer just in case it was the doctor calling. But it wasn’t Dr. Goodwin’s voice she heard. It was the one who made her stomach quiver.“Hello, I was calling to see if you needed anything. I have to stop at the department store before coming there,” Mason said. “You all live a good distance away, so I thought I’d ask.”She squinted at the phone, feeling suspicious for no reason at his impeccable timing, when this was of course a coincidence. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell Mason she didn’t need anything and hang up, but her roses gave her pause. “Y-yes. I could use a bottle of vinegar, some baking soda and some coffee beans for my rose garden. I-I’ll pay you back when you get here.” Then with a quick thank you, she hung up the phone. Touching her chest, she drew deep breaths. Just talking to him had raised her heart rate. How was she going to survive having him around?The phone rang again.She fluttered her lashes. If that was him again…It was the head of the English department, Dr. Loft. “Eden? We need to talk. One of your students, Naomi Bush, has lodged a complaint against you for biased grading. She says you gave her a lower grade over another student for the same assignment.”Biased grading? Eden gripped the phone before placing it closer to her ear. “I don’t understand. I use a rubric for grading, and I go over all the expectations plus I offer extended office hours. Naomi never took me up on it. In fact, she has missed the last two classes.” Sweat lined her brow. In her three years of working for them, she had never had any complaints. Anger whirled in her chest, but she couldn’t let her temper get the best of her.“I understand and I know how much you do for your students, but she is adamant that this is the case and is demanding a regrade. She is sending me both papers to look over to prove her case. Let’s set a meeting for the three of us can discuss everything. How about you come in next week?”Panic lined her stomach like rocks on the ocean. “C-can we set something up online instead?” That way Eden could go on camera and still hide in the shadows. She had the perfect vantage point in her room.“I really think you should come in person, my dear.”“I—I…” She inhaled and raked her teeth across her bottom lip. “I have a lot going on here. Please can we meet online next week? I have a few days after the finals before I need to submit final grades so we can meet anytime after then.”There was a brief pause before Dr. Loft agreed. “I’ll send you the login information. Look out for my email.”Relief curved her shoulders. “Great. I’ll wait to hear from you.”“While I have you on the phone, I’d like for us to have a conversation on another matter,” Dr. Loft said, raising Eden’s anxiety levels all over again. But this time, she had an idea what this was about. The college had been pressuring her to accept a full tenure position but that would mean taking on face-to-face courses and she didn’t do…in person. Though her therapist urged her to do so, constantly told her, she wasn’t ready.“Sure. We can talk after Naomi,” she said, when Dr. Loft brought up that very issue.“Okay. That will work. Look out for the invite.”Eden hung up the phone. Her eyes fell on one of the flyers advertising for the position and she curled her fists. She dipped her head to her chest. If her job forced her to come in person, she would have to quit. She didn’t have the level of confidence to overcome the looks of disgust and the derision when the students saw her scars, learned her past. It looked like they were going to need Mason after all. And she hated needing anyone, having learned the only person she could depend on was herself…and Grams.A small sliver of jealousy coursed through her. Mason had been called a beast, like she had been. But the difference was, he appeared to be…trying. He had grabbed this opportunity at a job. A do-over. While she was stuck here in the past.No.She was at a good place now in the present. It had taken her years to achieve this kind of…self-acceptance. She saw no reason to change that status quo. But it appeared as if she might not have a choice.
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Except from A BEAUTY IN THE BEAST by Michelle Lindo-Rice. This material is protected by copyright.

Seven Brides for Seven Brothers Book #3 Order Your Copy
Not looking for a hero…
But she found one!

Order Your Copy When pregnant widow Courtney Meadows steals away from her duplicitous in-laws in the dead of night, she has one goal: to protect her baby. An unexpected car breakdown miles away and a looming hurricane are the last things she needs! Enter a gruff knight in shining armor in Officer Brigg Hampton. Courtney’s compelled by the lawman’s compassion and integrity…and she has to admit he makes her pulse race in a way no one has since the tragic death of her firefighter husband. But can a woman as independent and wounded as Courtney let anyone else into her life again—especially another man courting danger in uniform? 

Chapter One
She could do this.Courtney Meadows held back a yawn and snuck down the winding grand staircase of the mausoleum she had called home for the past year and five months. A place she would have stayed in if she hadn’t overhead her in-laws plotting against her.After her husband, Jet, died while on duty as a firefighter, Muriel and Robert Meadows had insisted she continued to live with them. Their house was considered a landmark in Druid Hills, Georgia, and with nine bedrooms and twelve bathrooms on the property, there was more than enough room for them to spread out. At least that had been Jet’s response when Courtney suggested they get a two-bedroom apartment or purchase a condo since they were newlyweds instead of living with his parents. He reasoned he wouldn’t be worried about her while he was at work since his parents would be there to care for her.As if she needed looking after. Courtney and her sister, Kaylin, had been taking care of themselves since they were children growing up together in foster care.Remembering the single area of contention between her and Jet, Courtney gritted her teeth. He hadn’t wanted her to continue working as a mere waitress. Never mind that he had met her while she was busing tables and asked her out. They had married within eight weeks.Since Jet lived with his parents, he banked most of his money, so Courtney could be a stay-at-home mom. When he broached the idea, Courtney suggested they wait on children and take a year to continue to get to know each other. But he had been insistent and here she was. Eight months pregnant.Alone.Sort of.She yawned again and patted her round stomach, acknowledging her constant companion. A son. A son with a pair of interfering grandparents.Courtney had been in their floor-to-ceiling library earlier that day curled up behind the chaise longue, reading a book when Robert and Muriel entered the study. As she was about to show her face, she heard Muriel utter her name in a condescending tone. Courtney then tucked her legs close to her chest so she could listen in.Of course, her phone began to vibrate from the pocket of her biking shorts. Courtney had pressed the ignore button and held her breath for a tense second, just knowing she would be discovered. But they continued their conversation.Muriel stood a few feet away from her. “How long do I have to smile in Courtney’s face like it isn’t her fault that Jet died?”Courtney covered her mouth to keep from gasping. And responding. And making them aware of her presence. She squeezed her legs tight, her pulse escalating. She yearned to confront them, but she made herself stay absolutely still.Robert poured himself a drink. “Lower your voice, dear. Our lawyer said the easiest way to get her to sign the custody papers is to play nice.”“I can’t wait. Courtney isn’t ready to be anybody’s mom. She can barely take care of herself.” Muriel snorted. “I can’t wait to redecorate Ansel’s room.”Courtney fought the urge to lash out. This was the same woman who had gushed to her that very morning how much she loved the gray walls and elephant theme. Courtney had spent hours choosing the furnishings and preparing the space for her son, Jayson—not Ansel.“All in due time, dear.”Courtney folded her lips inside her mouth to keep from screaming at the calm certainty in Robert’s voice. Like it was a foregone conclusion that they would be raising her child. Not as long as she was alive and breathing.Muriel narrowed her eyes. “It’s a pity we can’t declare her unfit.”Robert rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Jet did say her mother had a mental illness…”Hot tears sprung and rolled down her cheeks. She had told Jet that in confidence. Her mother had suffered from bipolar disorder and had self-medicated with illegal drugs, which was how Courtney and her older sister, Kaylin, had ended up in foster care at six and seven years old. The girls had learned to rely on no one but each other. And Courtney had remained independent until she had fallen in love with a dashing firefighter the color of midnight.Never again would she allow herself to be swept off her feet by a man. Especially one in uniform.Robert held out his arm. “Let me see what Todd thinks about that.” Todd Lansing was the family attorney and friend.With a nod, Muriel wrapped her arm around her husband. Courtney watched them depart the room.The door clicked softly.From within, panic rang loudly.Uncurling herself, Courtney pulled out her cell phone to check her personal bank account. She had kept it open against Jet’s wishes. Good thing too, because she was going to have to get out of this place. In the early morning. Because even though his parents had been generous, covering all her expenses, they hadn’t given her cash. Jet hadn’t gotten around to declaring her as his beneficiary, so Todd was working on getting all that straightened out through the courts.Or so he said. Holding on to the chaise longue, Courtney wobbled to her feet.Todd was on the Meadowses’ payroll. And if she were being honest, Courtney had been too grief-stricken to pay attention. It had taken every ounce of strength she had to get out of bed, to eat so that her baby had the necessary sustenance to survive. As long as Jet’s son was taken care of, Courtney hadn’t been concerned about anything else.She swallowed. She should have been.Blinking away her tears, Courtney focused on the small screen. She had $237.41. If she took food from the pantry and used rest stops instead of a hotel, that should be more than enough to take her from Druid Hills, Georgia, to where Kaylin lived in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. Her sister worked on a cruise ship and was away at sea, but Courtney knew where Kaylin kept a spare key.All through dinner that evening, it took all her self-control not to show her hurt. Not to show how disgusted she was at their false concern. But she had done it. She had forced herself to eat a small portion of her lasagna, garden salad and garlic bread, nodding and smiling like she was clueless. She had even insisted that she take a picture with her in-laws under the guise that it was for her baby album. Courtney wanted to have photos to share with Jayson when he was an adult. He deserved to know his background, and she wouldn’t hold that information from him once he was old enough to understand. But that was years away. Right now, she had to focus on the day-to-day. Her and her baby’s survival.After dinner, Courtney had packed a lunch bag and stuffed a small duffle bag with a few outfits along with her laptop. Then she had donned a pair of black jeans, T-shirt and sneakers. Tucking her curls under a cap, Courtney waited until it was close to four in the morning, setting the alarm on her phone as a backup. Robert was a night owl. She wanted to be sure he was in bed before exiting this place for good.For a split second, now standing in the grand foyer, cell phone in hand, Courtney hesitated. She was close to the end of her term, and her eyelids were heavy with sleep. Maybe she should wait until she delivered before traveling. Then she stiffened. She wouldn’t put it pass the Meadowses to take her baby while she recuperated from giving birth. They had strong political clout, and to put it simply, she couldn’t trust them not to do something underhanded.No, it was best if she left for Florida in the wee hours of the morning. When they were sleeping. By the time they awakened, she would be long gone.Feeling a twinge of guilt, she placed a hand over her pounding heart. Regardless of their nefarious intentions, the Meadowses had lost their only child. Courtney knew they cared about their grandchild. It would gut them to be excluded from Jayson’s life. But these were the same people who had no qualms about snatching him away from his own biological mother.She squared her shoulders and ambled toward the alarm by the front door. Her sneakers made squeaking sounds on the marble floor. With a slight tremor in her hands, she rested her cell on the entry table, keyed in the code and opened the front door, tensing at the chime. Slipping outside, she locked the door behind her and wiped her brow.Whew.The crickets and cicadas’ night song this first week of June was a crescendo in her ears. Remembering the tiny frogs that liked to hang like a garland on the side of the house, Courtney cringed, hunched her shoulders and trotted down the three front steps before dashing into the dark to the right. The muggy summer morning made her crave the cool central air of the house behind her.Entering the garage, she beelined for her twenty-year-old sedan nestled in the corner, an eyesore compared to the five other premium vehicles inside. Robert had insisted she drive the Range Rover, and Courtney was glad she had begged them not to junk her trusty Kia. Despite the dings and scratches, it had been her ride for five years, her second vehicle now at thirty-one and the first she had paid for with her own money. Unlocking the passenger door, she placed her duffle and lunch bag on the seat before darting to the driver side.She adjusted her seat to accommodate her expanded tummy and started up the car. She tossed her cap off her head, her tendrils damp against her face, then took a moment to bask in the blast of the air conditioner before putting the car into gear.Keeping the headlights off, Courtney crept down the gravel on the driveway, her pace slow, her heart thumping with the precision of a drummer boy. As soon as she turned out of their property, Courtney turned on the lights and accelerated.Pumping her fists, she yelled, “We did it, Jayson!” A fierce kick made her stomach jump, and Courtney smiled. Patting her stomach, she said, “You feel it too, little guy, don’t you? Freedom. Wait until you’re out of there. Then we’re really going to celebrate.”With each mile, her worries melted away like an ice pop in the sun. Her neck muscles relaxed, and the tension oozed from her body. A tension she must have been carrying around for the past seven months following Jet’s death. She hadn’t realized how constricted she had been. How…constrained. Courtney straightened, anticipation injecting energy into her being. She was now wide awake. She couldn’t wait for the sunrise, for the first glimpse of a new day, a new beginning. A new life with her son.
Chapter Two
On days like today, Brigg Harrington reminded himself he had become a police officer to help other youths as he had been helped as a teen. But he hadn’t been like these modern teens making bomb threats at the middle school near the ending of the school year. Brigg had been pulled from his post as a school resource officer at Love Creek High to assist with evacuating the nervous gaggle of students and teachers during the chaotic lunch hour. Thankfully, his captain had allocated the task of easing the minds of the worried parents to the superintendent and town mayor while dealing with the vicious Florida heat. The sun’s rays had seared his exposed skin with laser-like precision, and he regretted not wearing sunscreen.Brigg had had to change out his wet, sweat-stained uniform for a clean one before working the rest of his shift doing traffic duty on highway patrol.Exhaustion cloaked his body like a warm blanket. He took a sip of coffee, needing a shot of caffeine, although his fatigue was more mental than physical. Three thirteen-year-olds had been arrested. Brigg hadn’t relished putting handcuffs on their wrists and reading them their Miranda rights. It was a part of the job, but his heart had constricted when seeing the fear in the young men’s eyes and their tear-streaked faces. He wished he could have given them a stern warning, but the boys had actually placed two homemade bombs in the bathroom stalls as retaliation against their bullies. His stomach knotted remembering the change in the atmosphere when it had become evident this was no harmless prank. Brigg had been stupefied. He knew those boys and their families, had seen them waddling about in Pampers under the town sprinklers when they were toddlers, so he was beyond flabbergasted at their actions. The most Brigg had done during his senior year in high school was steal candy and chips from one of the two quick-stop stores in Love Creek, Florida. And that had been a major to-do.The shop owner had called Brigg’s father, Patrick Harrington, plus there had been a police officer in the next aisle. A police officer who fortunately decided to mentor instead of punish. Beckett Sparks was almost a second father to him, a work father, because Patrick Harrington didn’t need a substitute. He was among the best there was.Lightning flashed, followed by a crack of thunder and then heavy plops of rain. Within seconds, Brigg was in the middle of a downpour. He wasn’t worried though. Within in a matter of minutes, the rain could end and they could have clear blue skies. That was Florida weather for you. Squinting up at the skies, though, Brigg saw huge dark clouds. With all the commotion earlier in the day, he hadn’t thought to check the weather. Pulling up the weather app on his phone, Brigg’s eyes went wide. There was a tropical storm farther out, and most of the area was under a tornado watch. According to the app, it could be upgraded to a hurricane. June heralded the beginning of the Hurricane season, so it was a definite possibility. But he chose to focus on the key words: could be.He  looked at the time and exhaled. Thirty minutes to go before the end of his shift at 6:00 p.m. He had felt every hour of this ten-hour workday.Settling into the leather of his patrol vehicle, Brigg rubbed his jaw and yawned. Sleep was a siren fanning at his eyes. Twenty-eight minutes. Then he was off for three days. Seventy-two glorious hours of just him and three of his seven brothers—Caleb, Drake and Ethan—fishing and cutting it up on Hawk’s yacht.Brigg hoped the weather turned and the weekend would bring nothing but sunshine. He could already smell the scent of the sea-foam, feel the lull of the vessel and see the shoals of fish while he and his brothers engaged in some good-natured ribbing. No women allowed.It was supposed to be all seven of them lounging about, but two of his older brothers, Lynx and Axel, had honey-do lists now that one was married and one was engaged. Both had bowed out. Then Hawk, his eldest brother and NFL quarterback, started seeing someone and dropped out. The relationship was new and fresh, which meant Hawk was spending all his spare time with Stacey. But Hawk had left the keys, and his place would be stocked and staffed with a chef and housekeeping. Brigg smoothed his pants leg. It wouldn’t be the same without all seven of them though. Unlike Lynx or Axel, Brigg wasn’t getting married or engaged or doing long-term relationships like Hawk. As far as he was concerned, love was for suckers and he didn’t eat lollipops. Besides, he thoroughly enjoyed being a serial dater. When he had time to date.Which was almost never.He was too tired. Yep, at the ripe old age of thirty, Brigg was tired of the dating scene. Or rather, the pretense. Because there were women out there who only cared about the number of zeroes in his bank account, his penis size and how long they could milk both. Ask him how he knew. That’s why he had stopped swiping right or left and had deleted the myriad dating apps. He couldn’t be bothered anymore.If he had to describe himself, he would say he was a no-nonsense by-the-book kind of guy. He liked his own company, though he had entered the world with a womb-mate. His fraternal twin, Caleb, lived nearby, and though they spent time together, growing up in a house with all those siblings made Brigg crave his solitude. That’s why he didn’t mind the hours he spent in a vehicle waiting for the unsuspecting speeding motorist. Swiveling the mount to bring his laptop closer, Brigg pulled up his recorded statements from some of the other students at the middle school. After rereading them, Brigg submitted his paperwork, along with the digital photos he had taken while on the scene. There would be hundreds of others from other officers, but Brigg knew the importance of a single photo and a different angle. During his nine years on the force, he had seen where a tiny piece of evidence had acquitted or condemned. Plus, though tedious, it was good police work. He tapped the steering wheel.Twelve minutes. Plus, the rain abated somewhat.Just as he slammed the lid of the laptop, a call came in, and he was quick to answer when he saw who was on the line.“Hello, Cap,” he said, greeting his former mentor, now captain. He rarely called him by his first name, though Beckett had urged him to do so many times.“Just calling to check on you. Don’t know if you heard, but in the next town over, a young woman parked on the side of the road was hit by a semi. She’s in critical care at Love Creek Hospital. That’s how we heard about it.”“No. I didn’t hear. Is she…?”“It’s out of our hands, now.” Beckett’s voice sounded grim. “Be careful out there.”Brigg’s heart squeezed when thinking of that woman’s family. “Thanks for looking out for me, sir. With this weather, I may not be going anywhere. If so, I’ll be working.”“All right, but you’re still taking that vacation when this all dies down. And Tara and Violet are looking forward to having you at dinner next week.” It had been months since Brigg had taken time off. His captain emphasized that an odd day here and there didn’t count and that it was important for him to relax and recoup.“I will.”Brigg looked at his watch and smiled. Just as he started up the truck, a burgundy sedan shot past. He clocked it at seventeen miles above the speed limit. The last ten minutes of his shift too. Of course it wouldn’t go any other way. He sighed and moved to turn on the patrol lights when he heard a loud bang, and the unmistakable squeal of the tires.Great. His seventy-two hours off would be about sixty-eight once he was finished here. That’s if he was lucky.He reminded himself his profession wasn’t just about making arrests or giving citations but included helping someone stranded on the side of the road during hurricane season. Even if that person had been going forty-two in a twenty-five-mile-per-hour zone. Brigg drove the few feet to where the vehicle had stopped, grabbed his raincoat and jumped out of his SUV right into deep mud.A huge crack of thunder was accompanied by even more rain.With a grunt, he wiped his boots and stomped over the car. The headlights were on, and the wipers swished back and forth, furiously fighting the torrent and failing. Brigg stood off to the side and rapped on the window careful to avoid the splatter of water from the wipers. The window rolled down with slow precision. He squared his shoulders and looked into the eyes of one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen.Lightning bolt.She had high cheekbones, a nose as cute as a button, and her skin appeared smooth and soft like cocoa butter. She had hair the color of copper stuffed under a baseball cap and a pair of hazel eyes framed with long lashes. But those pouty lips distracted him. They looked inviting and…kissable.For a second, Brigg was speechless. Her mouth was slightly ajar. Brigg took in her spiked lashes, wet from the rain or from crying? Immediately, he prayed it was because of the rain. That he could handle. Then her expression changed to quizzical while he reigned in thoughts akin to popcorn popping around in his brain.“Do you want my license and registration?” she asked, her voice sultry and low. Now she looked at him like he was addlebrained.Brigg bent so she could hear him over the rain. Water from the wipers whipped him across the face, and he saw her cover her mouth, her pupils wide. The abrupt onslaught shocked him back to his senses. Jumping back, he folded his arms and yelled. “Turn off the windshield wipers.”With a jerky nod, she complied. “Sorry.” He could see her clenching her cheeks to keep from laughing. Normally, Brigg would crack up at his misfortune, but he didn’t find his internal reaction to her amusing. If he had to put a name to it, he would call it attraction, but his job superseded this unexpected case of…whimsy.Frowning, Brigg stuck out his hand. “License and registration.” Once she handed them to him, he gestured for her to wait, though it was evident she wasn’t going anywhere, and stomped back to his vehicle.Punching in her information in his laptop, Brigg waited for the results. He held her license in his palm. Her name was Courtney. Nice solid normal name. His eyes slid back to the screen, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Good to know he hadn’t been jolted by a convict or serial killer.Then he raised an eyebrow. Her registration had lapsed over six months ago. That meant she had driven all the way from Druid Hills, Georgia, with expired tags. Brigg sighed. Technically, this was a misdemeanor, which could be sixty days in jail, plus a five-hundred-dollar fine. A quick scan showed she had no prior arrests or violations, so he decided to write her ticket instead. He opened the door to his vehicle.Thankfully, the rain had eased to mere sprinkles and the sun peeked through the clouds. Since he wasn’t sure how long that reprieve would last, Brigg hurried back to her car. That’s when he saw the steam coming up from the hood. That’s right. On top of having to cite her for improper registration, Brigg would have to help sort out her defunct vehicle. He had hoped the loud bang had been the result of a flat tire, but it was evident there was much more going on. In weather like this, it could be hours before a tow truck arrived. For a brief second, he considered calling backup, but his replacement was a rookie.He’d better handle this himself.As a result, when Brigg’s eyes met hers a second time, the only thing his brain registered was annoyance. Deep annoyance.
Chapter Three
It was bad enough he had an imposing large frame, but now he was glaring at her as if she was an irritant. Courtney hurried to roll down her window.“Your registration lapsed months ago,” he said, handing her the slip of paper. Their fingers connected and she felt a minor electrical shock. Pulling her hand away, Courtney refused to look at the ticket, knowing it had an astronomical fine she had no idea how she would pay. In her defense, she hadn’t had cause to renew her tags. She had been driven anywhere she needed to go. He cocked his head. “Now, what’s going on with your car?”There he was pinning those deep chocolate brown eyes on her again. For some reason that got her heart racing.Was he staring at her like he would anyone else, or was he staring at her vitiligo? She had similar depigmentation of skin on each side of her face, on her arms and hands. That was the question Courtney pondered the entire time the police officer spent in his vehicle running her license and tags. That and the fact that he was particularly good-looking, with skin the hue of sepia, a squared jaw and strong cheekbones. The officer had a tight lineup and fade with tight black, shiny coils.“I don’t know…” Her lips quivered. Goodness, she knew her hormones would have her balling in seconds if she didn’t take deep breaths. In two, three, four. Out two, three, four.“Is it the alternator? Or the pump?” he asked.“One minute it was fine and then…” She gulped. A fat tear drop began its descent and was promptly joined by others. Her shoulders shook. There was no stopping the flow. So she gave in, covered her face with her hands and had herself a good ugly cry.She heard the officer say, “Ma’am, please don’t cry,” which of course made her wail even harder. She tilted her head to face him.“I—I can’t help it,” she hiccupped. “Believe me, I would stop if I could. It’s just that…”He stalked toward his vehicle, and Courtney tried to reign in her emotions to no avail. All the stress of the past day was pouring as hard as the rain had been moments earlier. The officer returned with a handful of tissues. Thanking him, she stared straight ahead and wiped her face. If she looked at him and saw any level of sympathy, that might lead to an even greater crying fest. She hated having anyone feel sorry for her. But she sure did feel sorry for herself.“Is there someone you can call?” he asked once her tears subsided.“N-no. I forgot my cell phone.” Courtney had discovered that fact hours later. Even now, she could picture the device resting on the desk by the front door. She had put it there to enter the security code and, in her haste, hadn’t slipped it in her purse. Berating herself for that stupid mistake, Courtney had gripped the wheel and pressed down on the gas, willing herself not to turn around but to keep pressing forward.He gave her a speculative glance. “Where is it?”Disliking the suspicious tone, she answered the question through gritted teeth. “Back in Georgia.” Then, because she couldn’t hold her sass, she said, “Forgetting a phone isn’t a crime. It’s a common mistake.”For a second, his jaw jutted, but he looked at his watch. “I’m almost off the clock, but I can call you a tow truck. You’re only about five miles from town, and I think I can convince Lenny to come get you.”She released a shaky breath. “I don’t have any money for repairs.”Her eyes misted as the enormity of her situation sunk in. She was stranded with less than twenty dollars and no means of communication. Her heart began to pound. Most of the funds she had carried had been used to fuel this gas-guzzler. That had been an unexpected expense. Come to think of it, that should have tipped her off that something was wrong with her vehicle. Not that it would have changed her desperate escape plan.Her stomach rumbled. And she was hungry, having eaten the remainder of her snacks an hour ago.The officer cleared his throat. “What about a credit card?” She gave him her attention, noting the name on his badge on that broad chest read, Brigg Harrington. Her pride was as flat as the puddles in front of her. She had several credit cards. However, the Meadowses had canceled them, along with her phone.When she realized she left her phone, she had attempted to get another cheaper model, and that’s when she had learned her old number was no longer in service. Then she experienced an embarrassment at the store when she inserted the credit card to buy a new cell phone. At least she’d had enough in her own account to fill her tank for the last time. Pity that the car was now out of commission. Permanently.“That’s not an option for me right now.” Even if she had to walk to Fort Lauderdale—okay, now was not the time for that kind of a blanket statement. She couldn’t walk any serious distance in her condition. Especially since she was considered high risk, even though she was only thirty-one.He bunched his fists and lifted his eyes upward. She could feel the mixture of impatience and disbelief wafting from his persona. “Who travels like this in this day and time? And am I really supposed to believe that you have no one. No one that you can call?” She kept silent because his tone suggested he was releasing his frustration and not expecting an answer. Pointing at her, he commanded, “Wait here,” and stormed off.It’s not like she could go anywhere. She placed her tongue between her teeth to keep from saying that to him. Somehow, she doubted he would welcome her sense of humor.Still, she felt horrible she was keeping him from ending his shift on time. Yet, it wasn’t like she had planned this. She rubbed her tummy. She hadn’t planned any of the events of her life for the past year. Peering in the rearview, Courtney could see he was on his phone, most likely radioing for assistance.It was now dark, and any second, the rain could start pouring again. Courtney was stuck, and she had no idea what to do. Taking off her cap, she allowed her hair to fall to her shoulders, wiping her now sweaty brow. She really wanted to step out of the vehicle but wasn’t sure if the cop would want her to do that.And she wasn’t about to take any chances without any witnesses around. Not that he gave off a bad vibe or anything. Still.The humid Florida weather made the air stifling and dense. Reaching in the back seat for her bag, she pulled out a maternity tank top, then pushed her seat back to swap her T-shirt damp from sweat and tears with the tank top. That’s when she noticed him standing there with his arms folded showing off well-shaped biceps. Waiting or watching? She couldn’t be sure.A blush crept up her body. “I was hot,” she explained, noting the rain had petered off again,His tone remained professional. “The tow truck will be here soon. I’ll wait with you until it comes.”“Just impound it. I can’t afford to fix it.”He dipped his chin. “Lenny will work out something. Don’t worry about that now. The more pressing thing is you need a place to stay. There’s a town shelter, but it’s late, and with the weather, I can almost guarantee that it’s at capacity.”Then why suggest it? Again, she kept that thought to herself. His matter-of-fact tone grated her nerves. “Officer, maybe you can cancel the tow truck and I can stay here in my car?” Even as she spoke the words, she knew that wasn’t feasible.“That’s not safe. Your car is a dark color and there are no streetlights. Parked as you are, you could get hit and seriously injured by a passing truck or car.” He gestured for her to come out of the vehicle. “We can try the next town over to see if they have boarding for the night.” His mannerisms suggested he couldn’t wait to be rid of her.Resigned, she stuffed her hair back under her cap, snatched her bag then looked around for the baby bag. An image of the bag she had packed since month five resting by her bedroom door came into her mind. She groaned. She had meant to take it on her way out the door, but it was obvious she had forgotten. She sighed. Pregnancy brain was real. She gathered her other meager belongings and pushed the door open, giving it the usual shove. Then holding on to the door frame, she carefully maneuvered herself out of the sedan.The cop’s eyes bulged. He pointed a finger and sputtered in an accusatory tone. “You’re pregnant?”“Yep,” she quipped, enjoying seeing the unflappable man appear caught off guard. “Good to see your observational skills are on par.” Oh boy, her sarcasm and wit tended to go in overdrive when she was scared or hungry or broke. Didn’t take much to loosen her tongue. She needed to dial it back though, considering this man was her source of rescue.“How far along are you?”“I’m eight months.”“Yet, you would have had me leave you here on the side of the road?”Frustrated, she flailed her arms. “I don’t know what else to do. I’ve been driving for hours, and if this piece of crap had just held out for a little longer, I would have been in Fort Lauderdale with my sister.” Touching the car, she said, “I’m sorry. You’re not crap. I’m just frustrated.”An eyebrow rose. “I thought you said you had no one.”“Nothing gets by you, eh?” she shot back. “Well, for your information, I didn’t lie. My sister works for a cruise ship, and I’ve got about fourteen days or so before she returns.”He studied her for a beat before calling the town shelter. Hearing they had no space, he then called two others in two nearby towns. All stated he should try tomorrow. He pressed his lips together and ran a hand over his fade before groaning.There was a crack of thunder. She lifted her head, and a plop of rain landed on her nose. Another drop hit her forehead.Placing his hands on both of his hips, he declared. “You can stay with me. Just for tonight.” He sounded ungracious making that generous offer, and for a second, Courtney was tempted to say no.“Don’t do me any favors, sir.”“Don’t give me any sass, ma’am.” Her mouth dropped. He was quick on the comeback. She would have laughed if her situation wasn’t so sorry. The rain began to come down, soaking her shirt and hair. “Get in my truck,” he said in a much milder tone.With a nod, she waded through the puddle, her sneakers dipping into mud. She opened the passenger door and dropped her belongings on the floor. No way was she riding in the rear. The last time Courtney had been inside a police vehicle, it had been with her sister as they were being taken away from their mother. Fighting back that terrible memory, Courtney climbed up into the front seat, eyeing him, daring him to tell her she couldn’t.Fortunately for him—and her—he didn’t say a word.
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Except from TWENTY-EIGHT DATES by Michelle Lindo-Rice. This material is protected by copyright.

Seven Brides for Seven Brothers

Book 1: Rivals at Love Creek
Book 2: Cinderella's Last Stand
Book 3: Twenty-Eight Dates

Sworn off love, they’ll soon discover

As valentines, they’re into each other!

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When radio personalities Selena Cartwright and Trent Moon share their Valentine’s Day trauma stories and why they’ve sworn off love, the gala celebrating singlehood is born! Planning the event has Trent and Selena seeing—and wanting—each other more than just professionally. But if they’re found out, it could ruin their reputations and careers. As the gala approaches, can they overcome past heartache and possibly discover that Trent + Selena = True Love 4-Ever?
Chapter OneFifty-five days.Fifty-five days from now, on January 1, Selena Cartwright would be celebrating her two-year anniversary on the Weeknights with Trent and Selena Show. Fifty-five days until she would earn equal pay with her cohost. A right she had fought for, with Trent Moon’s backing.She fussed with her messy updo and smoothed her brown slacks, making sure not to trip over the large area rug as she exited her dressing room and made her way to the radio booth. Trent and the producer, Carla Smith-Jones, were already inside. She could see the whites of his capped teeth and ran her tongue over hers as a reflex action. She needed to get to the dentist and stop chewing on the fruit snacks she was never without—serving as her lunch and dinner on many occasions. Come to think of it, what she actually needed was to make time in her schedule to eat, splitting herself between the show and her private practice as a mental health therapist.Carla waved her inside. “It’s about time you got here.”Selena glanced at the Movado watch on her slender wrist, a gift that had outlived the boyfriend of two years who had given it to her. She had five minutes before they went live. The trip from the Gracie Square Hospital, a facility for psychiatric patients, to the studio on Varick Street had taken the cabdriver close to an hour instead of the usual thirty minutes.She touched her bangs and responded to Carla. “There was a serious accident and the rain didn’t help. I don’t know how some people get their driver’s license.”“That’s why I don’t drive in the city unless I have to,” Trent said with a laugh. “I have serious road rage.”Most days Selena loved the hustle and bustle of New York City but days like today made her consider relocating to Westchester or Poughkeepsie. It had taken her stylist thirty-three minutes to get her droopy curls tamed into a respectable bun. Even though it was a radio station, Selena and Trent were recorded and their sessions posted on social media. Her hair had to be on point—always. She couldn’t afford the sistas coming for her like they had done to Gabby Douglas years ago at the Olympics. Who cared that the young woman was a record-breaking gymnast if her hair wasn’t snatched right? That had been a snarky discussion Selena had engaged in across the airwaves.“Thanks to cabs and the subway, I don’t need a license,” Carla said, blinking in slow motion.Was that a carpet on her eyes? Selena mused, regretting talking her boss into getting lash extensions. That fad wasn’t for everyone.Selena scooted her chair at the long white table and dug in her bag for her ginger mints. She took out five and slipped three to Trent, keeping two for herself. He gave her a thumbs-up before sliding one of the two granola bars by his notepad over to her side.“Thanks.” She tore the bar open then stretched her legs.Her black kitten pumps touched Trent’s sneakers. He was dressed in black jeans and a hoodie with the words I Can’t Breathe imprinted in white. Trent was passionate about using his celebrity status as a radio host to shed light on injustice. When she was still a listener, Trent had been one of the first people to interview Colin Kaepernick, the football player who had taken a knee during the national anthem in 2016 and had started a movement.That was one of the reasons Selena had slashed her private practice hours to part-time and accepted Trent’s offer to cohost. She admired his grit and, though he had the reputation of being a ladies’ man, his integrity. Her move from an impulsive caller giving expert advice to sitting three feet across from him had been surreal. An experience far more rewarding than she could have ever imagined.“Sorry,” she mumbled, taking another bite of her bar.“That’s okay. It’s not your fault you’re freakishly tall.” He chuckled, tapping long fingers on the table. She could see he was getting a kick out of messing with her, as usual.“Don’t blame me that you’re just plain old average,” she countered. He was an inch shy of six feet, and two inches taller than she was.“If you really knew me, you’d take that back,” he said, waggling his brows and running an index finger across his chin. A signature move that the women found appealing judging by the comments on their social media posts. That, along with his square jaw, brown skin and bedroom-bass voice. Their words, not hers.“I see you forgot to leave your ego in your dressing room,” Selena teased, sliding her gaze away from those honey-brown eyes.“It’s my backpack. I take it everywhere I go,” he shot back.She laughed, enjoying their verbal sparring.“Save all that love for the air.” Carla butted in before gesturing to the rest of the staff that they were going live in two minutes.Selena and Trent had a great working relationship. They admired and respected each other as colleagues and, because of that, their ratings had grown each quarter. Viewers enjoyed their banter and comradery. She was the more serious of the two, but Trent’s passion and lightheartedness made for a nice balance on the show.Only to herself would she admit his fineness. She had told Trent he was a broken-down version of Kofi Siriboe, but what she hadn’t said was how Kofi was her man crush. Or rather, her boy toy. Her best friend, Nadine, had called Selena a cradle robber when she’d caught Selena ogling the actor from Queen Sugar. Nadine hadn’t missed the physical similarities between the actor and Trent, pointing that out to Selena. Besides the fact that she didn’t poop where she ate, Trent reminded her too much of her father. A father who’d called her mother, Helen, his number one…of many. Too many. A father who, when he’d left, had left her mother broken. And Helen was never the same.So, Selena avoided charismatic men like Trent.Calm. Safe. Borderline boring. That was her speed.Glancing at her watch, she finished eating. Soon after, an intern brought them two bottles of water at room temperature, along with napkins. Taking a few sips, Selena wiped her mouth and then reapplied her nude lipstick.Carla gave them a quick signal before scurrying into the sound booth. She was in her late forties, trim, and moved like she was on a catwalk. Outfitted in an A-line dress and high boots, Selena thought her producer looked confident and gorgeous, especially with her silver-gray hair in a pixie cut.Selena felt pride in knowing she had contributed to the other woman’s aura and wellness. A few months ago, Carla had been going through a nasty divorce so Selena had offered her confidential sessions. Then, to avoid a conflict of interest, she had referred Carla to another therapist.Carla spoke through the intercom. “We’re going live in ten…nine…”Selena straightened as her heart rate accelerated. The anticipation of reaching out to people would never grow old.*From under his lashes, Trent studied his cohost, admiring her cream tank top and brown pantsuit. Her signature color scheme. She had completed her look with chunky gold accessories and light makeup. Even her lipstick was a glossy shade of brown. Selena tended to favor muted tones, something he believed she had adopted as a therapist. Trent found her style classy. She had told him once she didn’t want to be sexualized. Or had she mentioned it on air? He couldn’t remember, but with those high cheekbones, full lips, thick lashes and generous curves, there was no disguising her beauty.She didn’t know it, but his friends James and Dontae had ragged on him for weeks, begging for introductions once they had seen how fine she was. A request Trent had denied. He liked to keep his professional and personal lives separate. In their twenty-two months together, his interactions with his cohost were limited to their airtime and planning for the next day.He heard the countdown signaling that they were about to go on air and cleared his throat. Then he greeted their listeners and gave an update on the weather before jumping into their first segment.“It’s time for us to Listen to Our Listeners,” he said and waited as Carla cued the intro.Once Selena had joined the show, their audience had begun sending emails and letters seeking advice, and their ratings had blown up. To handle the large influx of communication, their assistants read most of the mail and provided Trent and Selena with five letters each to read. They would then choose one or two to share during the show and offer suggestions. Listeners would also call in and express their thoughts. The segment was a huge success.Carla had already tossed around the idea of expanding their hour to ninety minutes. That’s why he had pushed for Selena to receive equal pay though she didn’t have the ten years’ on-air experience he had.Selena chimed in. “I have a letter from a listener who calls herself ‘A Crying Heart.’”Trent tensed with the memory of the powerful visual imagery in the letter. Selena believed an English major had penned the words. Trent had pushed for Selena to read it, though his cohost had felt it too personal. After muting his microphone, he picked up one of the ginger mints, unwrapped it and plopped it into his mouth. He closed his eyes, savoring the strong sensation and listening to Selena’s singsong voice, which depicted her Jamaican heritage. She had migrated to America at ten years old and, though she was a naturalized citizen, had maintained her accent and culture.Selena moved closer to her microphone and began to read, and he felt everything around him still.“‘Every year about this time, a sense of dread begins to fill my being. All around me, there is a beauty that comes from the colorful foliage. Families unite over steaming mugs of trendy themed coffees and engage in social activities meant to bring them closer together; end the year with goodwill. I move with the bustle of the crowd, smiling at the appropriate time, voicing the right sentiment, but on the inside, I am withering, dying like a tree left bare after shedding its leaves. I feel alone.’”His heart squeezed even though he knew the contents of the letter. Hearing the words read aloud evoked strong emotions. Selena’s intonation moved him and their listeners were responding, judging by the flashing phone lines.Selena took a sip of water and continued.“‘For the first time this year, I don’t want to pretend. I want to wallow, submerge myself until I am overwhelmed under the grief of being alone especially with Valentine’s Day coming in about three months. The worst holiday of all because it beams on me with the brightness of the sun and I am left alone under the heat of the spotlight, shouting my singleness. My heart aches as I wait for spring and the end to all this madness, where for a few months I can embrace being all right with myself. But until then, my heart bleeds.’“Signed, ‘A Crying Heart.’”Selena reached for the box of tissues and dabbed her eyes. Trent swallowed the last of his mint and turned on his microphone. In a subdued tone, he said, “Wow. I felt every nuance in each word. A Crying Heart, we hear you and thank you for sharing your most intimate thoughts with us. I found your letter honest and raw. How about we take our first caller to get some listener feedback?” He pressed one of the open lines and smiled at Selena, who was giving him a look of gratitude. Her cheeks were a little flushed and her lashes spiky. I got you, he mouthed.“Hello? Am I on the air?” a woman asked. Her voice cracked and she sniffled.“Yes, you’re live with Trent and Selena,” Selena said in a calm tone.Trent admired her professionalism. He focused on the caller.“I want to say that I’m glad A Crying Heart had the courage to write what I’ve been feeling all these years. I’m happily single and it’s awful that I have to endure my family asking me when I’m going to find someone, giving me looks of pity. Like I’m good for the most part. Except when Valentine’s Day comes around, slapping me in my face. I know that February 14 is all about love but I hate that day with a passion.”He gave a small chuckle of understanding. “Imagine the irony of hating a day that is supposed to be about love.”“I know,” the caller breathed. “I feel guilty but I absolutely despise it. It feels so good to admit this to someone.”“Thank you so much for sharing,” Selena said before taking another caller.This time it was a young man. “Yo, tell me why, I’m so glad I was turning the dial and heard this. Cuz I’m good, too. My mother is on me to give her a grandchild. But I want to travel. I want to do things.”And the calls continued.“I hate being single,” someone said. “I buy myself flowers and chocolates so I don’t feel so pitiful.”“I don’t like being alone,” another voiced.“I hate it.”“I think Valentine’s all about commercialism.”The comments kept coming. They spent the rest of the hour taking calls, moving with the flow. Trent and Selena could hardly keep up with the outpour and they tabled their talk on pumpkin spice. She had reached into her bag for her phone and had read some of their social media comments.“A Crying Heart, you started something tonight,” Trent said once they were at the end. “Let’s keep this conversation going. Please send us your comments and stories using the hashtag ValentineSingle and we will continue this tomorrow.”“Thanks for tuning in with us tonight and until then—Selena surprised him when she interrupted with, “A Crying Heart, I hope you call in tomorrow before the weekend. I’d love to talk to you because I, too, hate Valentine’s Day.”His mouth dropped. In slow motion. The holidays brought their biggest sponsors. He avoided looking into the booth, knowing Carla was probably about to pass out. Selena slipped back into her chair with a huge grin on her face, like she didn’t know what she had just done.Trent evoked every ounce of experience he possessed to keep from stammering through the signature slogan. “Keep your dreams sweet and your hope strong. Good night.” He disconnected his microphone and looked at the woman he had always seen as constant. The woman who sat with her arms folded, holding an expression similar to Angela Bassett’s after setting a car on fire in the blockbuster classic Waiting to Exhale. Then he asked, “What did you just do?”Chapter TwoThis wasn’t a “what” question. The real question was why.Carla rushed into the room, her eyes wide and her mouth rounded like a puffer fish. “Do you know what you’ve just done?” she sputtered.Selena stood, knots the size of brambles whirling in her stomach. “I-I don’t know what came over me. I don’t even know why I said that.” Well, she had a good idea, but it wasn’t one she would share. Every time she left after a visit with her mother, it stirred her emotions.“We might lose some of our biggest investors because of this,” Carla said, running a hand through her short strands and drawing raspy breaths. “Saying you hate Valentine’s Day when we have commercials from contributors like Hershey’s and Dunkin’ Donuts could be catastrophic. Give me some time to strategize and we can talk tomorrow after the show.”The trio parted ways. During the cab ride home, Selena replayed Carla’s parting words.It rattled her to see the other woman’s composure slip. Before her on air confession, Selena had been looking forward to binge watching Season 4 of The Crown on Netflix. She had finally started the series and had planned to catch a couple episodes. But Selena didn’t turn on the television. She hadn’t been able to concentrate. Her upcoming conversation with Carla preoccupied most of her thoughts the rest of the night and throughout the day. When she entered the studio that Thursday night, Trent tried to reassure but all she could think about was how she might lose her job because of her loose tongue. An image of her mother, Helen, in her room at the psychiatric hospital flashed before Selena. She tightened her lips. Love had shredded Helen’s heart and mind since Selena was a teen. She shuddered on the inside. After seeing her mother in that state, she had sworn off love. For life. However, she knew better than to voice her real feelings on the air. Like Carla said, they had sponsors. She made it through the show on auto pilot, but the minute it concluded, Selena cornered Carla and apologized.“I’m sorry. I didn’t think what I said was harmful.”“You didn’t think. Period,” Carla snapped. “In today’s time, words have an impact. One statement could haunt you forever and be the end of your career. Which could potentially affect other people’s livelihood. Mine included.”Selena’s heart pounded, her guilt intensifying, even though she suspected Carla was exaggerating a bit.Trent came over to where they were huddled, his phone in hand. “I’ve got a confession to make. I hate Valentine’s Day, too.” He released a breath, like he’d admitted something horrible. “That felt good to say,” he said with a small chuckle.Carla flailed her hands. “This is not the time for humor. I don’t think you’d be laughing when we’re out of a paycheck.”“I wasn’t trying to be funny,” Trent said, “I’m being honest and you’re being melodramatic.”Selena caught his eye. “You don’t have to defend me, Trent, by saying that. I know I messed up big-time.” She faced Carla. “Maybe I can tweet an apology.”“At this point, our public relations team has advised that we do nothing and ride this out.” Carla warned. Her phone buzzed. After reading the notification, she held up a hand. “I’m going to need you both to sit tight. The producer for the next show just called out and they need me to step in. I shouldn’t be long.” She flounced out the room.Knowing that Carla’s wait time could be anywhere from several minutes to an hour, Selena retrieved her laptop to work on client notes. During that time, Trent either napped or scrolled through his phone.“I’m getting hungry,” Selena said about forty minutes later. “What about you?” Trent nodded but she wasn’t sure if he had registered her words. His head popped up just as Carla returned. He held up his phone. “You’ve got to see this. We currently have over 100,000 views.”Her mouth dropped. “Are you serious?”“Take a look for yourself if you don’t believe me. Hashtag ValentineSingle is trending.” His eyes were bright. “You’re a sensation, Selena.”“What?” Selena shook her head. “I don’t understand.” She had been busy with clients most of the day and had avoided social media on purpose.“We’re not going to lose sponsors,” Trent said with much fascination as he continued to read. “We’re going to gain some.”“Let me see that,” Carla said, snatching the phone. As she scanned the contents, her worried lines disappeared and soon she began to chuckle. “Oh, snap. What have you started? This is genius.” Handing Trent his phone, she tapped her chin. “I think we can play this to our advantage.”Selena sagged, biting on her lip to keep from smiling. It was funny how quickly Carla’s demeanor had changed.“Somebody’s going to remix this and make a song out of it,” Trent said.Selena raced to get her own phone. A few clicks later, she was on her social media page. Then she pulled up a short clip from their segment and pressed play. Sure enough, there she was, on repeat, saying, “I, too, hate Valentine’s Day.” She groaned at her red cheeks and puffy face, but played it again. “This is bananas,” she muttered.“No,” Carla corrected, rubbing her hands, “this is an opportunity. And when it knocks, we’ve got to answer the door.” She scurried over to the table and sat in her usual position at the head. “Pull up a seat, guys. It’s time we strategize. Let’s pounce on this.”Trent looked at his watch. “Let me make a quick call. I’ll be back.”Selena watched him retret, then eyed the clock and slipped into her chair. It was almost eight thirty. Judging by the excitement on Carla’s face, they could be there for another two hours. But considering minutes ago, she had been worried about losing her job, Selena wasn’t complaining.“Let’s order dinner,” Carla said, pressing the intercom, most likely to call her assistant. “What do you want? Is Chinese good?”“Yes, Chinese is fine. I’ll nibble on whatever you get,” Selena said, scrunching her nose. She could never decide on what she wanted to eat when she remembered to eat.“I’ll get a little of everything.” When her assistant didn’t answer, Carla left the room.Selena wasn’t a cook. In Helen’s lucid days, her mother had tried to teach her, but without any success. Selena had burned water. Yes, water. Granted, she had been working on a paper at the time. But still. Helen had given up on cooking lessons after that. Then her bestie, Nadine, had tried to teach her how to make some simple survival meals, but Selena cut her thumb and had needed stitches. Selena avoided the kitchen after that, hating how she had failed.Once she had graduated from Howard University and moved into her own place, Selena usually kept her freezer stacked with frozen dinners. A month ago, she had started using a meal prep program and enjoyed having healthy meals without the labor—but she kept forgetting to place her orders online and was too busy to schedule one-on-one consultations with the chef.Trent returned and sunk into the chair across from her. “What did I miss?” His tone sounded lackluster and his brown eyes held worry.“Not much. Carla’s ordering dinner. Everything all right with you?” Selena asked.He nodded and hunched his shoulders, signs he was far from okay. Selena found herself filled with concern at his lack of joviality.“You want to talk about it?” She’d cocked her head and asked in a low tone in case Carla was in the sound booth.Trent looked at her. Really looked at her. Like he had never seen her before. She squirmed under his intense scrutiny and raised a brow. He opened his mouth, like he wanted to say something, before shaking his head. “Nah. I’m good. How about you tell me why you hate Valentine’s Day?”*Trent watched as Selena broke eye contact and lowered her gaze. Her long lashes fanned her cheeks. “I don’t like to talk about it.” She drummed her fingers on the tabletop.After he had gotten off the phone with his sister Pammie, short for Pamala, Trent had been torn, feeling guilty. He was happy Mindy, her caretaker, had been available to stay later. But Pammie had wanted him to come home and keep his promise to make ice cream sundaes. She hadn’t understood that he needed to work. He hated hearing her cry, found it hard to handle her disappointment. Fortunately, Mindy had bribed her with Oreo cookies and Trent had gotten an “I love you” before the call ended.So, yes, he had been agitated when he’d reentered the room. For a second, he had wanted to confide in Selena. But he meant to stay in the lane called business. He wouldn’t cross the line into personal. There was a big difference between being personable and getting personal. He focused on the painting of the waves behind her and changed the topic, turning the attention off himself.“Really?” he snorted. “You don’t want to talk about it? You’ll have to, because you opened the door to that story when you blurted out how you despised Valentine’s Day.” He exaggerated to jolt her into opening up. He had never seen Selena lose her cool stance and he was intrigued. For the first time since they had started working together, he wondered about her. Her backstory. He wanted to know more than just her profession and that she was a great work partner. He wanted to know what made her…human. Flawed. Like the rest of the world. Like him.“Despise? That’s a strong word.” She licked her lips before she gave him a challenging look. “How about you go first? Were you kidding when you said you didn’t like the holiday?”He rubbed his chin and debated whether to answer. It was something he did when he was nervous or in deep thought, a habit he had picked up from his dad. “I don’t know if I can trust you with the story of the biggest humiliation of my life.”Her eyes flashed and she scooted her chair around the table next to his. “Now you have to tell me. I’m going to bug you until you fess up.” A whiff of jasmine teased his nose. It was light, airy, like the woman next to him.“You have to promise not to tell.”She slapped his arm. “The fact that you have to ask is insulting. I’m a therapist and I know all about confidentiality.”“Yeah, but I’m not a patient,” he said, stalling. He was going to stretch this conversation as long as he could.“Yes, but I’m a friend.”With a jolt, Trent accepted she was right. She was a friend. Of sorts. He knew he could trust her. He knew he liked her personality. He dropped his voice to a whisper. “All right, bet. I’m a tell you but you have to swear on your pinky toe that you will never tell another living soul.”“My pinky toe?” she asked, cracking up. “Trent, you’re so silly, but I promise you on my pinky toe.”“Let me see it,” he teased, giving her a light shove on the shoulder.She pursed her lips. “You play too much. My feet have been in these shoes for hours. I can’t take off my shoes.”“I guess you don’t want to know then.” He shrugged.They squared off. After a moment’s hesitation, Selena took off her shoe—size nine, if he had to guess—and lifted her foot.“You sure are nosy,” he teased.“You best believe it.” She wiggled her foot back into her pump, leaning into him for support. “Now, tell me.”Carla came back into the room, diverting their attention from their current conversation. “Dinner will be here in fifteen minutes.” She looked ready to jump and touch the roof. “I’ve got some great news. Unbelievable, really.”“Share it, then,” Trent said.Selena used that opportunity to scoot back to her usual side of the table.“A sponsor called to double their advertisement time slots. The higher-ups are on fire. They are even thinking of expanding the show into a two-hour segment.”“Say what?” Selena yelled. “That’s amazing. Wow.”Trent’s stomach clenched. Both women had their eyes on him, waiting for him to display his excitement.He worked hard to appear relaxed and easygoing. But he had a regimented daily schedule. Had to. Ever since he had become his younger sister’s guardian, Trent had made huge changes to his lifestyle. Gone was the bachelor filling his nights with one of the many swarming beauties around him. If he wasn’t working or at the gym, he was with Pammie.But Friday and Saturday nights were his time to he hang with the boys or treat a woman to a five-star night in a hotel. He never took the ladies home and he paid Mindy double to take care of Pammie. But that was built into his sister’s routine. She was used to it.Trent hoped Pammie would adjust to his expanded work hours as this would disrupt her routine.“Well, it’s just talks for now. But let’s ride this wave until our butts slide across the sand,” Carla said. “So, tomorrow’s show, we’ll make another call for Bleeding Heart—”“You mean A Crying Heart,” Trent corrected.“Yes, or whatever she calls herself,” Carla said with a wave of her hand. “We’ll see if she calls in. I think we should begin the show by making the plea, and with Selena telling why she hates Valentine’s Day so much, and then, Trent, you’ll share your story.”“What?” Trent shook his head. “I didn’t announce that on the air. I don’t want to tear open that can of humiliation for all to see.”“You can and you will,” Carla said in that tone she used when she didn’t want an argument. “I spoke with the execs  and, it was only because I told them that their superstar—sorry, Selena—felt the same way, that they decided to get on board.”Trent dug his shoes into the floor to keep from yelling. He was shocked to discover he didn’t like surprises. Well, he did. But not the kind that interfered with his schedule.“I’ll share my reason,” Selena said in a low voice. She sounded like the proverbial sacrificial lamb. He couldn’t let his partner put herself out there and not do the same.“Fine,” he growled. “Tomorrow, I’ll tell my tale.”“Just remember we have children listening,” Carla advised, eyeing them both with caution, before continuing. “Once you’re both done baring your souls, we’ll take more callers and read another letter or two from the massive number of emails.” She pinned her gaze to the ceiling before looking at them. “Then we’ll end the night with a bang and usher in the weekend on a high note. Got any ideas?”As if on cue, the intern came in with paper products, utensils, and containers with a variety of dishes. Trent’s stomach growled and his mouth watered. He had leftover steak and potatoes at home, but the sandwich he’d had for lunch and the granola bar snack had worn off. He grabbed a paper plate and added rice, chicken with broccoli and an egg roll. Selena packed her plate with a tiny spoonful of everything.While they were eating, Selena dropped her fork and snapped her fingers. “I got it. We need to have our very own Valentine’s celebration. Like maybe a dance.”Carla cocked her head. “A dance?”“How will that help?” Trent asked.Selena picked up her fork and twirled lo mein noodles around it. “Let me explain. We need to honor singles. Give all the couples in love the proverbial cut of the eyes. We need to throw a Valentine’s Day dance. But for singles only. No couples allowed.”Chapter ThreeShe could smell the curry as soon as she entered the door of her best friend’s third-floor studio apartment in Brooklyn Heights. Nadine had moved here two years ago because of its proximity to the NYU Langone medical center where she worked as an ER nurse.“I can’t believe you’re cooking at midnight,” Selena said, hanging her rain jacket on the hook behind the front door and wiping her feet on the mat with the words Did You Call First?. The kitchen was to the immediate right, with the bathroom steps away. Tucked in the furthest corner was the queen-sized bed on which they had shared many nights watching the television mounted on the huge half-wall. The wall divided the bedroom from the living room area, giving a small measure of privacy.“If I don’t cook now, I’ll end up buying junk,” Nadine said, giving her a hug before hastening over to the stove to stir the food. “I’m working a double tomorrow night, so I’ve got to be prepared.” Nadine popped a small piece of meat in her mouth and wiggled her hips. “This curry chicken is giving me life right now. I put a pinch of Scotch bonnet pepper in there so that mild heat hits the back of your tongue just right.”Selena’s mouth watered. Nadine was critical of her cooking, so if she was saying this was good, then the meal would be off the charts. Her tummy grumbled even though it was packed tighter than sardines in a can. “You know I’m taking a container home.”“I got you.” Her friend gave a thumbs-up sign.Placing her purse on the small dining table across from the kitchen, Selena massaged her neck, appreciating the stunning view of the Brooklyn Bridge at night. The bright lights drowned out the sounds of the city, the honking, and the squeals of the trains. That view was the second reason Nadine had chosen this spot, paying over two thousand dollars per month for a thousand square feet of living space. The third had to do with Nadine’s unhealthy crush on Matt Damon, whom she had yet to run into by planned accident.“I can’t believe you dropped that bombshell on the air,” Nadine said, her metal fork clinking against the stainless-steel everyday pan. The sound was the music that made Selena’s stomach dance. Selena had bought her friend a set of Ironclad, knowing how much Nadine loved her pots.“I didn’t know you were listening in.”“I was working last night, but this morning Mommy sent me a clip of you saying you hate Valentine’s Day. I texted you right away.”Nadine’s parents had low-key adopted Selena as their child. The Johnsons had celebrated Selena’s accomplishments more than her own mother had.Selena smiled. “Yes, I got your freaked-out emojis but I had a strategy session with Carla and Trent. We’re spinning this whole thing, which will build our brand, expand our hours, make a profit, and give our listeners a chance to party.” She briefly outlined her idea of the singles dance, promising to share more details once she had them.Selena stretched her neck and yawned.“Girl, go sit down. You sound like a donkey braying,” Nadine said with a laugh.Forcing her tired feet to move toward the love seat, Selena sat and propped her legs on the wooden storage bin that doubled as a coffee table and footrest. “Give me a break. I spent hours in a meeting after work when I needed to be sleeping. At least they fed me.” She closed her eyes.“You’re doing too much. You’ve got to choose between the practice or the show. The show might seem like a part time gig but the PR demands take up a lot of your time.”She felt weary to her bones. “I know. I know.” She stifled a yawn. “But I like helping people.”“So, what about helping yourself? Self-care is important. You can’t help people, if you’re not around.”Nadine’s solemn words sunk in. Selena popped one eye open. Before she could formulate a response, her mouth opened to form a huge yawn. Prying the other eye open, Selena pinned her gaze on her friend.“You should have gone home instead of coming here. You plopped a fortune into that gorgeous mausoleum on the Upper West Side.” Nadine shook her head. “I don’t get why you bought that townhouse and then refuse to enjoy it.”Those words jolted her awake. “You know why. You made me buy that monstrosity because I was being featured in Essence magazine.”“Yes, we Jamaicans are coming up in life.” Her eyes held compassion. “And it doesn’t feel like home because you haven’t made it one. Your walls are bare and your furnishings sparse. You need to put up pictures and add little knickknacks to make it yours.” Nadine turned off the burner before washing her hands and wiping them with a paper towel. She then retrieved her containers. Knowing Nadine, she would have enough food for at least three days. Nadine always cooked too much and Selena’s tummy reaped the rewards.“What pictures?” Selena pointed to Nadine’s family portrait where she stood between her two doting, smiling parents. “Not everyone has a mother like yours, who is willing to help you decorate. Or a father who will hang pictures twenty times if you ask.” She spoke the words without envy. Since she had met Nadine in ninth grade at Jamaica High School seventeen years ago, she had fallen in love with her friend’s petite parents. The three of them made her feel like a giant. They were small but their love was large.“Boo-hoo. You can afford to hire someone and you do have pictures.”Her shoulders slumped, sinking her further into the love seat. For a beat, she watched Nadine’s precise movements as she shared the steaming rice and chicken into the glass containers. Her friend didn’t do plastic. It wasn’t eco-friendly or healthy. Since her father’s heart attack eighteen months ago, Nadine had vowed to change her lifestyle and had been urging Selena to do the same. Slow down.Selena released a breath. “It’s not the same.”Nadine dropped the spoon into the pan and placed a hand on her hip. “You can’t press Pause. You can’t keep your life in a freeze frame, waiting for Ms. Helen to turn back into the mother she once was. It’s been twenty years. At some point…” She shook her head and stopped talking. Wiping her brow, she went back to her task.Selena figured her friend was tired of repeating herself. They’d had variations of this conversation countless times. She sighed. “I can’t give up on her.”Once she was finished with her meal prep, Nadine would wash all the dishes and clean her stove like Meena Johnson had instilled. Ms. Meena didn’t play that. You didn’t cook in or leave a dirty kitchen. Selena could hear Ms. Meena’s voice in her head. What if visitors drop by? What a big disgrace. Welp. That was one benefit of not cooking. Selena’s kitchen was always clean. Pristine… Untouched.Nadine put the pots in the sink and turned on the faucet. Then she continued. “I’m not asking you to give up on your mother, friend. I wouldn’t ask you to do something I wouldn’t do. I’m asking you to live. I’m asking you to take your life out of those storage bins and begin to celebrate your achievements. And, for goodness’ sake, have some f-u-n. Do something unexpected.”Though it wasn’t the first time she had heard them, those passionately uttered words struck Selena’s heart with the force of a cannonball. She pictured the two large gray bins in her closet filled with pictures of her prom and her graduations, her sorority mementos and her awards. Everything was tucked away. Compartmentalized. Like her life.Tears came to her eyes and she sniffled. “I went to see her today.” She glanced at the sunflower clock. “Well, technically, it was yesterday. Mommy kept her back turned away from me. She refused to talk to me.” Her breath hitched. “Said I looked like my father and cut her eyes at me. No matter how much I accomplish, I’ll never be good enough. She’ll never see me as something more. That’s why I don’t do love. Look what it did to her. And, if I’m like him, what if I cause this pain on someone else?”Leaving the pots to soak, Nadine came to sit next to her and opened her arms. Selena scooted low so she could rest her head on her much shorter friend’s chest.“Oh, honey. You’re a therapist, so I know I’m preaching to the choir, but I’ll say it anyway. You know your mother’s sick. You can’t take her words to heart.” Nadine cradled her close.“I know. That’s exactly what I tell my patients.” Selena squeezed out the words. Her chest felt constricted. “But this pain is something fierce and every time I think I have conquered it and put it to rest, it rears its head. She hates my father. What does that say about how she feels about me? She thinks I’m just like him though I haven’t left her. I’m here.” Her shoulders shook and the dam to her emotions burst. “I’m here. I’m here. I said that so many times, but she didn’t want to hear it.”She felt Nadine stiffen beside her and steeled herself.“You need to quit going to that facility. Your mother is gone. She’s a shell of her former self. All she is now is bitter and all she does is injure you. A parent is supposed to heal not harm.”Selena straightened and grabbed a tissue from the napkin box on the floor. She wiped her face. “I’ll be all right. I’m just in my feelings. I’ll be back to myself in the morning.”Wiping her hands on her thighs, Nadine cupped Selena’s cheeks. “I’ll let it go, but I need you to know you’re not your father. You would never desert your family like he did and especially how he did. If you are like him in any way, then you’re the best of him.”All Selena could do was nod because she wasn’t sure how much she believed her friend. But Nadine wasn’t finished.“There had to be something good about him or Ms. Helen would have never messed with that man in the first place much less married him. My friend, you’re worthy of love and to be loved. Ms. Helen shunning you is her loss. You’re a great friend, loyal, caring and kind.”Nadine lifted a finger with each point she made. “You’re working hard to pay all your mother’s expenses. She’s well taken care of. You paid for my nursing school, you renovated my parents’ house, and you surprised them with an all-inclusive package to Jamaica for Thanksgiving. They are way beyond ecstatic to return home and I’m sure that’s all they will talk about for the next twelve days. Even though you didn’t have to do anything because we love you. Period. You don’t have to buy our love. You’ll make a great wife and mother one day because you are not your past. So keep moving toward your future.”Selena squirmed. She didn’t like when Nadine talked about what she had done for them. Gifting was her love language. She chuckled to lighten the air and to shift the conversation from her generosity. She also needed to skirt away from the dart that maybe she was trying to buy their love. “All this from the woman who is determined to be a serial dater and the life of the party until she’s at least a hundred,” she joked.“You got that right.” Nadine gyrated. “They don’t make men like my daddy anymore. Love ´em and leave ´em. That’s my motto. I bought the T-shirt, so it must be true.”She had indeed purchased a shirt with that slogan. In several colors.“Yet you tell me to settle down? Can’t you see how contradictory that is?”“Because that’s who you are. You’ve got to be true to you. If I am a serial dater, you’re a serial monogamist.”“I’ve been single for a couple years. And you’ve never liked anybody I’ve dated.”“That’s because you go for those boring men. Plaid shirts tucked into khaki pants.”Selena cracked up. “There’s nothing wrong with a man wearing those clothes. You’re a mess.”“There is if he has the belt buckled tight, showing an even smaller waist than mine.”“Whatever.” Selena shook her head. “I can’t with you.”Nadine cocked her head before changing topics. “Are you going to put your mother’s business on the air?”“Why not?” she shot back, her voice edged with bitterness. “It’s not like she’ll be tuning in anyway.”Nadine lifted a brow.Selena rubbed her temples. “I know I sound…snarky. I only plan on telling how I feel about Valentine’s Day from my viewpoint. What happened to my mother affected me. My childhood. I’m speaking from that perspective. That’s my experience. My truth.” She lowered her voice. “Get this, Trent’s sharing, too. Turns out he’s not too fond of the holiday, either.”Nadine’s eyes went round. “What? Mr. Smooth Operator doesn’t do Valentine’s? That’s hard to believe.”Selena nodded.“Why, though? Did he tell you?”She shook her head. “No. He’s spilling the tea on tomorrow’s show.”“Oh, you best believe I’ll be tuning in. Me and the parents.”*Trent stood by Pammie’s bed, watching his sister’s five-foot frame rise up and down while she slept. He reached down to take the JoJo Siwa bow out of her hair before pulling the pink unicorn covers up close to her chin. Then he smiled.“I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help you make sundaes. I’ll make it up to you. I promise,” he whispered before kissing her on the cheek. He could hardly believe she was twenty-one years old now. When his parents had brought her home, Trent had showered her face with kisses. Her tiny hand had wrapped around his hand and his heart. That had never changed. His sister had been born with Down’s syndrome and, from the moment she’d arrived, Trent had been her protector. They had been inseparable until he’d left for Yale University. His parents had made him attend. Trent had been willing to turn down the full ride and commute to Queens College to stay close to Pammie. He would never forget her little body shaking as she’d sobbed when he had pulled out of the driveway to begin his journey to New Haven, Connecticut.That’s why he had moved Pammie in with him instead of placing her in a special home after their parents’ deaths. Trent was grateful to be in a position where he could afford to provide her with the best.Turning on the Disney night-light in case she had to use the bathroom during the night, Trent hoisted the giant unicorn off her bed and placed it in the corner of the room. Her pink bedroom was a blend of the child and woman that she was—featuring movie posters of her favorite films along with her stuffed unicorn collection.His cell buzzed. It was Dontae.Trent sped out of the room so he wouldn’t disturb his sister and answered the phone. “What’s up, man?”“Yo, please tell me you’re not about to do what I think you’re about to do,” Dontae said.“I am. I’m laying it all out there tomorrow.” He could hear the wind blowing in the background. Dontae must be calling from his truck.“Bruh, don’t go out like that, man,” Dontae pleaded. “Don’t do it. I was fixing a busted pipe when I got your text. Then I got an emergency call about a broken toilet or I would have called you sooner than this. But the entire time I was working, you were on my mind. I couldn’t wait to call you. You know Renee and Keyshaun might be listening in. She don’t need her head swole, thinking you still want her or something after all these years.”Trent gripped his iPhone at the mention of his ex-fiancé and ex-friend, and walked to his living room area. He sat into the U-shaped sectional and pulled the large ottoman into the space to close it in. “I’m over it. And her. This is about building the bank account. Adding more zeroes to my name.”“All right, man. That girl hurt you like nobody’s business. She was wrong to the umpteenth power, on so many levels. I don’t want you going down memory lane and getting all depressed again. Black men don’t do therapy and this woman had you laid out on that couch for months.”“I did therapy. And I’m black. My parents died not too long after that, don’t forget.” Trent sighed. He hated talking about his parents’ deaths. He didn’t think he would ever get over losing them both in a car accident. He also hated how he sounded defensive about seeking much-needed help. “Don’t feed into that stereotype. That’s why so many of us are hurting and lashing out because we don’t handle our pain the right way.”“Man, ease up with that. I didn’t mean to get you started on that soapbox. You see how I handled my issues. My fists landed me behind bars. I lost my track scholarship because of all that nonsense. It was like I couldn’t leave the hood behind. It’s soaked deep in my DNA and though I’m proud of my heritage, I needed a better life. If it weren’t for you, I’d be… I don’t even know where I be right now. You know I’m just messing with you about that whole therapy thing. Truth is, I wish I’d had the guts to seek help when my brother got shot.” He paused a beat.Dontae had told Trent that he had been there to see his brother take his last breath. Shot because he had stolen a pack of gum from the corner store on a dare. A pack of gum. That stuff stayed with you for life.“Yep. I needed to sprawl on somebody’s couch,” Dontae said. “Especially if my therapist had looked like yours. Cuz that lady was fine as all get-out.”The men shared a laugh. Trent didn’t add that he’d asked her out after their sessions had ended, but Mariana Adams hadn’t been about to break protocol and date her former client.“But back to this whole Valentine’s thing. Did you tell James yet?” Dontae asked.Trent tensed. “No. Not yet.”“You’d better give him a heads-up. You know he’s not above acting the fool. He might call the radio station. Or worse, go knock on Keyshaun’s door.” The background noise stilled and Trent heard a door slam, signaling Dontae was home.“I’m counting on you keeping him cool.”James’s temperament was suitable in his role as a bouncer, but he could be a hothead when it came to his friends. A hothead with King Kong-sized fists. Add that to a Superman complex… Let’s just say Trent had ended up pleading for Keyshaun’s face—and life. Keyshaun’s nose would be crooked as long as he stayed on this side of the earth, but according to James, Keyshaun should give thanks he was still breathing.“I’m on it. I already plan to be there with him when you go live. We plan to listen in at Ms. Yancy’s house.”“Good plan.” The only person tougher than James was his mother. They had each felt the tip of her wooden spoon at some point. She wielded that thing with more skill than a Samurai.“You sure you go’n do this?” Dontae asked again.Trent wiped his brow. He didn’t want to look like a chump but he didn’t want Selena putting herself out there and not do the same. He released a huge breath of air. “I’m sure. Maybe it will help somebody.”Dontae snickered. “If telling yourself that helps you tell the tale, then all right.”Trent’s phone buzzed. “Hang on. Let me check my cell real quick. I got a message.”It was from Dontae. He had texted Trent a picture of a hangman during their conversation. “You too old to be playing games.”“It’s your funeral, but I got your back,” Dontae joked. “Good luck tomorrow.”“I don’t need luck. I make my money talking, and tomorrow will be no exception.” Trent ended the call. Despite his brave words, unease swirled through his insides. He questioned the sanity of revealing his truth and opening himself up for ridicule. Then he hunched his shoulders, remembering his father’s advice when he had been teased as a youth. Laughter was just air. Wind. It would fade.And build his bank account.
Order Your CopyExcerpt from The Valentine's Do Over by Michelle Lindo-Rice. This material is protected by copyright

I am a huge Brenda Novak fan! I got a chance to meet her and also to get a signed paperback copy of THE SEASIDE LIBRARY!

Five stars!

Purchase your Copy

After taking care of some of my own book stuff, I was able to settle in and read my Kindle copy. So, this is a book about friendship--and secrets! I know my friends have kept my secrets, but this secret between these three friends was MAJOR!

Ariana, Cam and Ivy grew up as friends on Mariners Island, a small close-knit community. But when they were teenagers, Cam became a person of interest when a young girl goes missing. So Ariana and Ivy decide to protect him by lying to cover for him. But that lie festered and ate at them for twenty years! All of a sudden there is new evidence in the case and it is once again big news. The detective on the case is even more determined to find out the truth and the truth could end their friendship for good.

THE SEASIDE LIBRARY had me on edge. I mean I admit I had to peek at the end because it was so intense. I loved soooo many things about it, especially the friendship between these friends. It is so good to have people you know who will support you and who are there for you. It was such a good read!!

Here is the picture of me meeting Brenda Novak on her tour. She is soooo lovely! I loved listening to Brenda and her husband, Ted, who makes a great cup of hot chocolate.

Sister Mother Warrior by Vanessa Riley
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I absolutely love reading historical fiction, especially amazing black women from the past who rock and rocked history. Author Vanessa Riley does so using her unique writing style. First with Island Queen and now with, Sister Mother Warrior. One thing you can be sure of is that you are going to get a well-researched topic and you're going to learn some history you might not have known before.

In Sister Mother Warrior, we meet two phenomenal women who were crucial in Haiti gaining its independence from France: Marie Claire and Gran Toya. Gran Toya was a Dahoney warrior from West Africa who was enslaved but who also helped raise Jean Jacques Dessalines, the leader of the Haitian Revolution. Marie Claire is the love of his life and a powerful woman in her own right - helping to nurse and help all, regardless of their race, in the war.

It was a deep read for me and the author does not shy away from the tough truths of the past. Her descriptive writing style made me picture the gruesome torture but also the triumph of overcoming captivity. This literary work lingers with you after the end. It did take me some time to read but the heartfelt conclusion was worth it.

Thank you, #Netgalley and #WilliamMorrowBooks for this ARC.

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When We Let Go by Rochelle B. Weinstein
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I became a fan of Rochelle Weinstein after reading one of her books and I was so glad for the chance to read When We Let Go.
What a great story! It gave me all the feels. I got teary-eyed and there were moments were I just got sentimental. The title fits this story. I think so many are going to enjoy this feel good read. I love love how we see a mature character and a teen character - their similarities and their tug of war. Such a good read and I can't wait to read more of her books! Another five star read.

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