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Bosom Buddies Episode Three

If you missed Episode One, read it here.

If you missed Episode Two, read it here.

If you missed the Bonus Episode, read it here.

 

Sabrina

“How many margarita sleepovers have we had?”

There was a moment of silence as my eyes met Coral’s across the kitchen table, and then we both burst into laughter.

“What?” Celeste spread her hands and gave us wide eyes. “What’s so funny?”

“You are,” Coral giggled. “You are so totally predictable, Celeste.”

“Every single time we have one of these, as soon as you get a little bit drunk, you ask us that question. And then you get pissy when we won’t stop and try to count them all up.” I lifted my purple margarita glass. “To the Bosom Buddies and our margarita sleepovers . . . however many of them we’ve had.”

The girl clinked with me, echoing my toast before we all took fortifying sips of our tequila.

“And to the Tinsel and Tatas Benefit 5K Run and Weekend Celebration.” Celeste raised her glass. “May we all survive the biggest charity event Burton’s ever seen.”

“Survive? We’re going to rock the whole damn thing.” Coral quirked one eyebrow. “Should we also drink to the weekend’s entertainment, one very hot, very famous, and very familiar—at least to one of us—country singer Ty Hollis?”

Celeste rolled her eyes. “Don’t start up with me again about Ty. I told you both that this is all business. It has nothing to do with what happened between the two of us almost ten years ago.”

“Time will tell,” Coral replied airily. “Just mark my words, girls. Remember that I told you so.”

Celeste patted her arm. “Of course, you did, sweetie.” She reached for the blender, where another serving was waiting. “But I think it’s time to get to the real juice of the evening.” She poured us each another drink and then fastened her gaze on me. “What’s going on with you, Sabrina?”

“Not much.” I left my glass on the table in my hurry to change the subject. “Coral, your movie premiere is next weekend, isn’t it? Are you getting excited?”

“Arrrgh.” She flung one arm onto the table and dropped her head down on top of it. “Don’t remind me. Why was I stupid enough to set this book in Savannah?”

I patted her hand. “Because you wanted to do a story that could include all of the history around here, remember? After we did that weekend in the city and went on the carriage ride and the ghost tour . . .”

“It was a rhetorical question, Sabrina.” She lifted her eyes. “Because when I set my books in Massachusetts and Pennsylvania and Colorado, the movies premiere in New York or LA. But this time, with it taking place in Savannah, they thought it was such a great idea to premiere it here. And they say it’s absolutely essential that I’m part of the whole mess.”

Have I mentioned that Coral can be just the teensiest bit dramatic?

“I think it sounds like it’ll be amazing, Cor,” Celeste said, her enthusiastic cheerleading smile glowing. “Didn’t you say something about tickets for your closest friends? You know, your bosom buddies?” She winked.

“Oh, yeah, I’ve got that all set up.” Coral waved her hand. “That’s not the problem. The problem is that my publicist Sherell told me I need to bring a date. Like, a man.”

“Aha. Now the plot thickens.” I wagged my eyebrow. “This is getting juicy. Who are you going to invite, Coral?”

“I don’t know!” She practically wailed the words. “I was thinking of my cousin Gary, but then I saw the family newsletter, and I guess he got married or something. And anyway, Sherell says it has to be a romantic interest because they’re going to play up that angle—that I’m a romance author who leads this super exciting, sexy life.” Coral blew out a sarcastic breath. “As if! The most romance I get is when my fingers accidentally graze the barista’s hand when he’s giving me my coffee.”

“That’s no one’s fault but your own,” Celeste began, but I interrupted before we could get too far off track.

“So you need to find a hot guy who’ll be your date for that night.” I drummed my fingers on the tabletop. “I think I have an idea. There’s a new doc in the hematology department, and he’s kind of cute. I heard through the grapevine that he’s single—he broke up with his college girlfriend last year when she moved to Africa.” I shook my head. “Sorry, trivial detail. Anyway, I bet I could talk to him and see if he’d be willing to be your date for that night.”

Coral’s eyes lit up. “Seriously? Oh, Sabrina, I’d owe you forever.”

“Nah, not forever.” I grinned. “Just introduce me to whoever’s playing the leading man in your next big movie and we’ll call it even.”

“Oh.” She tilted her head. “The next one is shooting here in Burton this fall. I just got an update on the production schedule. Since they’re filming it here, I’m going to be an extra in one of the scenes. But the lead in that one was just cast—and it’s Diego Ramos.”

“Yummy.” Celeste took another long drink of her margarita. “But he’s not going to be interested in any of us, unfortunately. He was with that adorable guy who played a manny on the TV show—what his character’s name?”

“Chip,” I supplied. “But they broke up, or so I read.”

“Too bad for them.” Celeste licked a tiny bit of salt from the corner of her lip. “Now that we’ve got Coral sorted, time to turn out attention back to you, Sabrina. Don’t think I didn’t notice that you ignored my question. What’s up with you?”

I’d put this off as long as I could, and I knew when I’d hit the wall of defeat. “Okay, okay. If you must know, when I stopped by the house last week to see how things are progressing, I . . . met someone. Or rather, I had an unexpected reunion.”

Both of my friends wore puzzled expressions. “Who was it?”

I toyed with the edge of a napkin. “Do you remember when I told you about Wesley?”

“Oh, my God, Wesley,” Celeste clapped her hand to her chest. “You didn’t really find the boy who broke your poor teenaged heart, did you?”

“In fact, I did.” I swallowed. “He’s working on the house.”

“This is the most perfect romance ever,” Coral breathed. “It’s like a made-for-film second chance love story. Tell me everything.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” I retorted. “I walked in, he came down—he’d seen me from the upstairs window before I walked in—he told me who he was.” I took a deep breath. “And I basically yelled at him for leaving me without any warning or explanation, and he tried to give me some lame excuse. . . and then I left.”

“And you haven’t been back to the house since?” Celeste wanted to know. “I mean, aren’t you curious, Sabrina? Don’t you want to know what happened to him when you guys were in high school?”

“Why would I want to know that?” I retorted. “It all happened a long time ago.”

“Because he hurt you,” Coral answered me gently. “I remember when you told us the story. It was the first time I ever saw you cry.”

I blinked and pressed my lips together, unwilling—or unable—to answer.

“Wesley was your best friend. He’d been there for you all of your life, especially after your mom died.”

“Mmmm.” I nodded.

“And then you started to have feelings for him, like that you wanted to be more than friends, and you were afraid that he didn’t feel the same way until one night when you were walking home together. He asked you to the—was it the prom? Or cotillion or something?”

“The Holiday Ball,” I supplied hoarsely. “It was a huge big deal in our school.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Celeste agreed, taking up the narrative. “And then even better, he kissed you and told you that he’d been trying to work up the nerve to ask you out for months.”

When I closed my eyes, I could still remember that night so clearly. I didn’t think about Wesley all the time—a demanding college schedule, med school, and life had kept me too busy to wallow once I’d left Wisconsin after high school. But on nights when I was by myself and lonely, the memory of Wesley’s shining eyes, how his lips had felt against mine, the joy in my heart when he’d confessed that he liked me . . . it felt all too close.

“I really thought it was the beginning for us,” I mused, staring down at my hands on the table. I thought all of my dreams were finally coming true. I went into the house after he’d kissed me goodnight, and I remember that I cried just a little because I wished I had my mother there, to tell her about Wesley and me. I wanted her to squeal with me and get all excited about finding a dress for the Holiday Ball.”

“Oh, sweetie,” Celeste murmured, reaching over to clasp my hand.

“Once I got into bed, I just lay there imagining how different my life was going to be. I pictured Wesley and I walking to school together the next morning, maybe sharing a few kisses. I giggled at how surprised everyone would be when they saw us holding hands in the hallway—Wesley was a big deal, the hottest guy in the school, and I—well, I wasn’t. I was the poor little girl who had no mother and was kind of a nerd.”

“Nerds rule,” Coral informed me solemnly. “Wesley would’ve been damn lucky to get a girl like you.”

I offered her a small, sad smile. “Unfortunately, he didn’t stick around long enough to figure that out. Because the next day, he never came to my door. For as long as we’d been going to school, he’d been there every morning. I was late to my first class, and I was so worried—at lunch, I snuck away and called him, which was totally not like me—I was a rule follower.” I closed my eyes, the waves of hurt breaking over me again, almost as devastating as they’d been that late autumn day fourteen years ago. “I thought he’d pick up or it would go to voicemail, but I just got a message that the line had been disconnected.”

“Son of a bitch,” Celeste swore. “How in the hell could he do that to you? Don’t you want to know why?”

“I don’t know,” I replied slowly. “Does it even matter? I went by his house and knocked on the door, and there was no answer. That weekend, I saw his father outside and asked him if Wesley was okay. I said he hadn’t been in school or in touch for three days, and I was concerned.” I bit my lip. “His dad was always a little bit of an asshole. He told me that Wesley had decided to finish high school in California because he’d have a better chance of a football scholarship. He seemed surprised that I didn’t know, that Wesley hadn’t told me. Apparently, his mom had driven him out there, and later that month, Mr. Crane followed.” I drew in a ragged breath. “He knew he was leaving the next day, but he didn’t tell me. Instead, he gave me the cruelest kind of hope, and then he disappeared from my life forever.”

“Oh, Sabrina.” Coral stood up and staggered around the table to gather me close to her in a sloppy kind of hug. “I knew the story already, and I still feel my heart breaking for you. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

Celeste looked thoughtful. “It just doesn’t make sense,” she remarked. “Wesley was always your friend. If he knew he was leaving the next day . . . what would make him treat you that way? I think there’s more to what happened, Sabrina. And I think you owe it to yourself to find out, now that you have this chance.”

“I don’t care about his reasons.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Nothing he could say would make me feel better about what he did.” I paused, remembering the light in Wesley’s eyes when he’d come down the steps last week. “And what’s more, it doesn’t matter. It’s not like I’m going to fall into his arms like some lovesick girl in a romance novel.” I slid a glance Coral’s way. “No offense, Cor.”

“None taken.” She waved her hand. “But Sabrina . . . don’t you think it’s weird that Wesley came back into your life this way fourteen years after you saw him last? Don’t you think it might be a little bit of kismet?”

I snorted. “No, I don’t. I think it was coincidence and my bad luck. If I don’t see Wesley Crane again for the rest of my life, I’ll be perfectly fine with that.” I reached for my margarita. “Now let’s change the subject. All of this maudlin shit is harshing my tequila vibe.”

I took a long drink, pretending that I didn’t notice the loaded glance my friends shared. That was fine; they could believe whatever they wanted. But there was no chance in hell that I was giving Wesley another opportunity to hurt me.

No fucking way.

Want to know what comes next?

Episode Four is coming next Friday!

And we’ll hear Wesley’s side of the story . . .

The tale of Coral’s movie premiere date

is coming in September, right here.

What about Celeste?

Her romance is revealed in

TITS THE SEASON

which is part of the holiday benefit anthology

TINSEL AND TATAS

Releasing October 5th

Preorder Tinsel and Tatas Today:

Amazon

Apple Books

Kobo

Google

Barnes & Noble

Bosom Buddies **BONUS EPISODE**

If you missed Episode One, read it here.

If you missed Episode Two, read it here.

 

Sabrina

“Come in, come in!” Celeste opened the front door to her adorable little lingerie boutique, Between the Sheets. “How’re you doing, sweetie?”

“I’m good. I’m fine.” I leaned into my friend’s enthusiastic hug. Celeste was one of the brightest, most positive people I’d ever met, and I often wondered why she liked someone like me who tended to teeter on the cliff of pessimism.

But she did like me, and I knew I was lucky to have both Coral and Celeste in my life. When we’d met at that volunteer rally back in college, I never could have guessed how long we’d know each other and how deeply they’d both impact my future. Hell, I lived in Georgia because after we’d finished our undergrad studies, Celeste had been determined to start up a business in Burton, her hometown. Coral had already written her first book by that time and knew she could work anywhere, so she’d decided to stick around and share a rental house with Celeste.

I’d gone to medical school in Atlanta, close enough that my girls could come to me at least one weekend a month. They’d cheered me on, getting me through those three long years of insanity, and when I’d landed a spot in a residency program in Savannah, we’d all been thrilled to live within about forty-five minutes of each other.

And now, all three of us had realized our dreams: Coral’s books were bestsellers, the kinds of books that were optioned for movie deals even before their release dates; I was working in a cutting-edge breast cancer treatment hospital, heading up some of the most promising studies and trials; and Celeste owned this totally kick-ass lingerie store on the main boulevard of Burton.

She studied me now, her eyes clouding with concern. “You don’t look fine.”

“Oh, stop with the flattery, Celeste, you’ll make me blush.” I rolled my eyes. “I just came off a twenty-four, and I only had time for a couple of hours of sleep before I had to drag my ass to Burton for this meeting.” I yawned big. “So sorry if I don’t match your sparkle. Cut me a break.”

“Whoa there, angel pants. Slow your roll. When I said you didn’t look fine, I only meant that there’s something in your eyes. Something that says you’re not at all fine and good. You’re upset.”

“Am not.” The denial flew fast from my lips. “Like I said, I’m just . . . tired.”

“Okay.” She shrugged, and she might have said more, but just then the bell over the door jingled as Coral came in, followed in short order by a group of three young women.

Celeste wore her official saleswoman smile as she glanced at me. I nodded, understanding that she had to deal with these last-minute-before-closing customers, and gestured to Coral to follow me behind the counter and into the small sitting room in the back of the store.

“Ugh, I saw those girls getting out of their car right after I did, and I kept sending them mental vibes: don’t go into Celeste’s store. But I guess my Jedi mind power must be a little rusty.”

“Oh, it’s fine. She’ll schmooze them, sell them a couple hundred dollars’ worth of sexy silkies, then send them on their way.” I sank onto the overstuffed loveseat. “God, it feels good to be off my feet. It’s been a long week.”

“Sorry about that.” Coral kicked off her shoes and curled into the opposite corner of the small sofa. “Just work stuff?”

I hesitated. I’d been vacillating all week on whether or not to spill my guts to the girls about Wesley. They both knew of him; they’d heard the story early in our friendship, on one of our very first margarita sleepovers. I’d gotten sloppy drunk and sobbed out my heartbreak. Still, I wasn’t sure I wanted to let them know that the first guy who’d broken my tender heart was now helping to transform my home.

“Yeah, just work,” I answered Coral finally. “A lot of challenges right now.”

“I’m sorry.” Coral reached over to pat my hand. “Want to talk about it?”

“No.” I shook my head. “Comes with the territory, you know.”

“Sure, but . . .” She shrugged. “We’ve all been there. Or at least near there.”

I had to swallow hard over a lump that had risen suddenly in my throat. Coral, Celeste, and I called ourselves the Bosom Buddies for two reasons: first, we’d met at a volunteer rally for Young Survival Coalition, and second, we’d all three gone into lines of work that had something to do with, well . . . boobs. I worked in breast cancer research and treatment, Celeste sold fancy and sexy bras, and Coral wrote historical romances that all featured those famous and stereotypical heaving bosoms.

But behind the truth was pain that was still scarred and hurting, at least for Coral and me. I’d lost my mom to breast cancer when I was only five years old. That was why obliterating the disease was my daily personal crusade.

Coral, though, had actually fought breast cancer herself. She’d been diagnosed at age seventeen and battled for three years before going into remission. Now, nearly ten years after she’d finished treatment, it was sometimes hard to remember that she’d ever been that sick—it had happened before Celeste and I had met her—except that every now and then, I happened to look into her deep gray eyes—those old soul eyes—and caught a flash vulnerability. And then I remembered my friend’s enormous courage.

I scooted over on the loveseat and slipped one arm behind her back. “Thank you, Cor.”

She gave me that heartbreaking half-smile. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You do stuff all the time. You’re always here for Celeste and me. You listen, you encourage—you’re the best cheerleader a woman could want. I love you to pieces, and I don’t say it nearly enough.”

“Oh.” Coral ducked her head, embarrassed. “We all do that for each other.”

“Well, we try. I don’t think I’m as good as you are.” I nodded my head toward the door that led to the front of the shop. “By the way, did you think Celeste sounded funny on the video chat last night when she asked us to meet up here today?”

“Funny how?” Coral tilted her head.

“I don’t know. Funny like . . . she’s hiding something. Or like something big is happening.”

“Oooooh!” Coral’s eyes got big. “Do you think it’s a guy?”

“Jesus, Cor, does it always have to be about a man?” I rolled my eyes.

“Not all the time, no, but every story’s better when a man’s involved,” she shot back, all sassy like. For all of her wise ancient spirit energy, Coral really was a hopeless romantic. It was probably why she was so good at her job.

“I don’t know about that,” I sighed, thinking of Wesley and our tense encounter at my house last week.

“Aha!” She wriggled to sit up straighter. “See. There’s something else going on with you, girlfriend, and it’s definitely man-related. I can just tell.”

I never lied to my friends, but that policy didn’t stop me from trying to redirect Coral’s attention. “Do you think Celeste is too stressed about this holiday benefit? Taking on the chairperson job was a big decision.”

Coral narrowed her gaze. “Stop trying to change the subject. Also . . . yes, I think she’s stressed, but no, not too stressed. You know her. She thrives under pressure.”

“Hmmm. Maybe.” I nudged her with my elbow. “Hey, do you have to be up early tomorrow?”

She frowned. “No. Not particularly. Why?”

“Because I’m off for a few days, and I was thinking we could crash at Celeste’s place tonight after dinner. We could have a margarita sleepover. We’re way past due for one.”

“That sounds like a plan.” Coral grinned. “Celeste will have to get up to open the store, but you and I can sleep in. Oh! And we could go to Kenny’s for waffles!”

“Now you’re speaking my language.” I loved the small diner in the center of Burton’s downtown. It was one prime reason I’d chosen to settle so close to this little town—but I wasn’t going to admit that to Celeste or Coral.

“This is perfect.” Coral rubbed her hands together. “While we’re here, we’ll gang up on Celeste and get her to spill whatever she’s hiding. And then tonight—” Her grin turned wicked. “We’ll find out what it is you’re trying to keep from us.”

I sent her a withering glare. “I will never talk. No matter how much you torture me.”

My friend snorted, smirking. “Oh, we’ll see about that, Sabrina. We’ll just see.”

Want to know what comes next?

The details of this meeting–and what’s up with Celeste–are all revealed in

TITS THE SEASON

which is part of the holiday benefit anthology

TINSEL AND TATAS

Releasing October 5th

But the next episode of BOSOM BUDDIES releases on Friday–

and it’s all about the margarita sleepover!

Stay tuned!

Preorder Tinsel and Tatas Today:

Amazon

Apple Books

Kobo

Google

Barnes & Noble

A sneak peek of FALL IN LOVE IN A SMALL TOWN

Enjoy a little taste of Fall in Love in a Small Town, coming September 28th!

Liberty

Sexy underwear on a freshly washed and shaved body? Check.

Dress that’s just the right mix of flirty and fun? Check.

Sassy new hairstyle that makes me look sophisticated–at least I hope so? Check.

Taking a deep, cleansing yoga breath, I gave myself one more encouraging grin in the mirror before I turned away. I’d set up the files I’d brought home from the society’s document library on my kitchen table, and there was a bottle of my favorite shiraz breathing on the counter next to two brand-new wine glasses. I’d been going for serious-business-evening alongside the suggestion of let’s-have-some-fun. I hoped that I’d struck the right note.

The knock on the door made me jump, even though I’d been waiting for it. I shook my head to dispel some nerves and yanked open the door.

Jacob stood on the other side, one hand resting on the wall of my small porch. The light jacket he wore was faded and almost threadbare; I recognized it from our high school days. Back then, seeing him wear it had made me sigh and wish. But right now? The way it clung to arms that had gotten a lot more bulked up since we were teenagers? Total droolfest.

He was wearing old jeans, too, and I knew the way they fit him was going to tempt me to stare at his very fine ass all evening. That wasn’t going to be a hardship.

“Hey, Lib.” His eyes swept over me from head to toe, and was I imagining it, or did I see a flare of heat in his expression? If so, it was too fleeting to be sure. And when he bent to kiss my cheek in greeting, it felt like he was keeping things brotherly, not suggestive.

Damn it.

“C’mon in, Jake,” I invited, stepping back as I eyed the backpack he had over one sculpted shoulder. “What do you have there?”

“Notebooks, binders, my laptop, and a portable scanner,” he answered, dropping the bag in a kitchen chair and unzipping it. “Tools of my trade.”

“Of course.” I smiled, nodding at him. “You come well-prepared.”

He stared at me for a moment and then muttered something under his breath. I wasn’t sure what he said, but it sounded like Not really. Whatever that was supposed to mean.

“Can I pour you some wine? I’m going to have a glass.” I moved toward the counter to give myself a little room before I did something crazy. Something like wrapping myself around him and climbing his body like a tree.

“Um . . .” Jacob looked almost mystified by the question. “Uh, sure. Yeah, wine sounds good.” He sat down and pulled out his laptop. “Sometimes I forget that you’re not still an underage kid, Lib. I was about to ask you how you managed to get ahold of wine.”

I rolled my eyes, irritated. “Jesus, Jacob. I’m twenty-five years old. Just two years younger than you. Newsflash . . . I do all kinds of grown-up things now. I buy alcohol, own a car, rent a house, go on dates . . .” Inspiration struck along with a kind of reckless courage I hadn’t known I possessed. Circling the small table, I stood next to him, closer than I had to, and leaned over to place the wine glass on the other side of his computer. I angled my body just enough to give him an eagle-eye view down the scooped neckline of my dress.

Lowering my voice, I completed my sentence, staring him in the eye.

“I even have sex. Believe it or not.”

Jake’s throat worked, and his mouth dropped open a little. Without looking away from me–almost as though he was powerless to do so–he reached for his wine and took a long drink. When he spoke again, his voice was raspy.

“Oh, I believe it, Liberty. I totally believe it.”

Coming September 28th

LEARN MORE HERE!!

A New Look for the Crystal Cove Books!

The Posse was my game-changer book.

I was a baby author, and I’d released four young adult paranormal romances. I was thinking of what came next–it was meant to be Rafe and Nell’s books. And then one day, I’d gone to the beach with the kids, and as I drove home, suddenly a story fell into my lap. Or my head, as it were . . . and unlike most of my other stories, this one was definitely adult, not supernatural at all, and I knew the entire thing, beginning to end, from the moment it was conceived.

Before I reached home that day, I knew the names, the characters . . . and the setting. Crystal Cove is based loosely on the Florida beach town of New Smyrna Beach, although I take lots of liberties–Crystal Cove is its own entity by now.

I have a special place in my heart for The Posse (and for The Plan and The Path and The Problem which followed), so I was especially thrilled when the talented Stacey Blake created these gorgeous new covers.

To celebrate, The Posse will be discounted through July.

Jude

I’ve always believed in second chances. But I never thought I’d need one.

And then my husband Daniel, my childhood sweetheart, father of my two almost-grown kids, died and left me alone with my memories, our family beach restaurant . . . and his life-long friends, the Posse.

I’m a little surprised–and suspicious–when a few of those friends begin to wine and dine me a year after Daniel’s death. I know they promised to look after me, but this is above and beyond. What’s really shaking me up, though, is that one of them tempts me to believe that maybe I’m not quite finished with love yet.

Logan

For most of my life, I silently watched my best friend love the only woman I ever wanted.

When Daniel died, I lost a guy who was like a brother to me. Along with the rest of our friends, I promised to look after his wife, Jude. Only . . . maybe I want to be more than just her pal.

It’s not going to be easy to convince her that we can be together without betraying our past. But I’ve loved Jude too long to give up on the future we could share. 

Buy it here!

 

Emmy

I’ve always believed in second chances. But I never thought I’d get one.

I’m a hard-working, no-nonsense woman, hell-bent on supporting my family and growing my pie business. Working weekend nights at The Riptide is just something I do to help pay the bills. When it comes to men–or love–I’m not interested. Since the day my surfer-boy husband walked out the door to find bigger waves, I knew I’d never give another man power over my heart.

But one night with Cooper might change that.

Cooper

I’ve been married–and divorced–twice, and I’ve got no desire to make it a trifecta. Being a single dad to my teen-aged daughter keeps me busy, and my carpentry business offers the only passion I need. The Posse, my best friends since boyhood, tease me about finding the right woman. But I know she doesn’t exist.

When I share a casual hook-up late one night with Emmy, it isn’t a big deal. It’s just a one-time thing. Until it isn’t. And although neither of us will admit to ourselves or each other that we want more, each encounter only brings us closer to the happily-ever-after we never planned to have.

Buy it here!

Abby

I’ve always believed in second chances. But I never thought I’d want one. 

I came to the small beach community of Crystal Cove to start over. After a painful affair broke my heart and derailed my burgeoning career, taking over management for the just-opened bed-and-breakfast was the safe choice. In this sleepy town, I figure I can bury my memories and forget the pain.

When I’m offered the chance to oversee the refurbishment of an old hotel in the Cove, I can’t resist the temptation. Bringing the Riverside Inn back to life offers me a second chance I never expected. It would be perfect if the man doing the work wasn’t both irritating and intriguing. Yes, his passion for the hotel is irresistible. But I see another spark in his eyes . . . one that threatens to ignite part of me I thought was dormant.

Ryland

Landing the job of restoring the Riverside Inn is a dream come true. The only problem is the woman in charge of the project. Abby Donavan is a prissy perfectionist, too worried about rules to appreciate my vision.

Still, I suspect that underneath that cool exterior beats a heart that burns with wild flames. If I can only convince her to trust me, I know we could build more than just an exquisite hotel. But second chances are risky when the past is painful. 

Buy it here!

Tawdra Kandle writes romance, in just about all its forms. She loves unlikely pairings, strong women, sexy guys, hot love scenes, and just enough conflict to make it interesting. Her books include new adult and adult contemporary romance; under the pen name Tamara Kendall, she writes paranormal romance, and under the pen name Tessa Kent, she writes erotic romance. Tawdra lives in central Florida with her husband, a sweet pup, and too many cats. Assorted grown children and a perfect granddaughter live nearby. And yeah, she rocks purple hair.

You can follow Tawdra on Amazon to receive updates on her releases. You can also visit her website for more information, and subscribe to her newsletter for sales announcements, special exclusive content, and promotions.

If you enjoy Tawdra’s books, join the Naughty Temptresses!

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The Most Delicious Red Gravy by Francesco DiMartino (Just Desserts/I Choose You/Just Roll With It)

Francesco DiMartino is the matriarch of the DiMartino family. She helps her husband run their family restaurant, she raised two daughters, two sons, and a granddaughter, none of her kids can get anything past her . . . and she’s a fabulous cook.

This is the red gravy she makes every Sunday. It’s also served at Cucino Felice. Enjoy.

1.5 pounds beef cubes

3 tbs olive oil

3 cloves of garlic, chopped

1 24 oz can crushed tomatoes

1 10 oz can tomato paste

2 tsp basil

1 tsp salt

1 tsp pepper

1 small can tomato sauce

To a large stockpot over medium heat add the oil and the garlic. Saute for a few minutes being careful not to burn. Add the beef cubes and cook until brown. Add the crushed tomatoes and tomato paste, and then fill the empty tomato paste can with water and add it to the pot as well. Add the spices. Cook over low heat for at least an hour (the longer, the better!). Add the tomato sauce and continue to cook for several hours (making it the day before is even better!). 

Serve with your favorite pasta (Francesca always recommends rigatoni), freshly grated parmesan cheese, and a salad (butter lettuce, tomatoes from the garden, and oil and balsamic vinegar). Oh, and crusty Italian bread is a definite bonus!