Chapter One

Now…

“Do you think the severed arm is too gory?”

Whitney glanced up from her laptop at the plastic Halloween decoration her friend Sarah was holding. With bruised-looking skin, a fractured bone protruding, and dark-red blood, the fake limb was eerily realistic, and she had to force aside her aversion to the upcoming spooky season as she contemplated critically.

“I think it will be fine for the adult tours. Maybe twelve and over?”

Sarah nodded and placed it in the “yes” pile, then continued sorting through the stack of decorations she’d bought in L.A. the day before—as soon as the Halloween pop-up shops opened in the city. Unlike Whitney, Sarah lived for anything Halloween. As kids, she always had the most elaborate, homemade costumes and won the prize for “most school spirit” more than anyone else. She spent her own money decorating the family home with tombstones, ghosts, witches, and goblins and had been featured on the local news for her extreme efforts.

This year, Sarah’s recently renovated inheritance, Dove’s Nest B&B event venue, would be transformed into a spooky haunted house for the whole month of October and host various Halloween events in their small coastal town of Blue Moon Bay. Sarah’s fiancé and business partner, Wes, had already started on the exterior decor of a decrepit, crumbling facade. Though he had voiced the irony that they could have left the inn in its former condemned state and saved themselves a lot of work restoring the place.

As head of marketing and tourism in Blue Moon Bay, working out of the mayor’s office, Whitney was designing the haunted house announcement and marketing materials that would be distributed throughout Southern California the following week to announce the upcoming events. Small towns loved their holidays, and Blue Moon Bay was no exception. Tourist numbers being low in recent years, they needed anything they could get to draw people back to the community.

Seated next to Whitney on the comfy outdoor furniture on the B&B’s deck, her best friend, Jessica, was scrolling through gory desserts on her cell phone. “Ohhhh, these frozen eyeballs would be perfect for the drinks.”

Jessica owned the bakery in town, Delicious Delicacies, and had taken on the responsibility of providing desserts for the B&B’s haunted house. And like Sarah, Jessica was all in.

Whitney shuddered as she glanced at the image of the realistic-looking eyeballs floating on top of bloodred martinis. “That’s disgusting.”

“You should see the zombie-themed cake I’m making,” Jessica said, her eyes lighting up.

Whitney shook her head as she laughed. “It’s so hard to reconcile my bubbly, sweet friend with this horror fanatic you turn into this time of year.” As delicious as Jessica’s baking was, Whitney would not be eating the desserts at the event.

She wished she could get into the spirit the way her friends did, but she was mentally already on to Christmas…and by Christmas, she’d be moved on to planning for spring. Working in the marketing industry, she was constantly a season or two ahead of reality, never really having time to stop and enjoy the one she was in. By the time she hit Submit on these materials and they were on their way to the printer, she’d be lucky to even notice the pumpkins popping up on porches all over town in the coming weeks, as she buried herself in festive images on stock photo sites and prepped all the brochures and posters for the local holiday schedule.

A cry sounded on the baby monitor next to her, and she jumped.

Sarah laughed, her face instantly taking on that love-crazed look only a new mom would have. “It’s Henry. I’ll be right back.”

Jess jumped up and said, “I can get him.”

But Sarah shook her head. “He’ll need to be changed first.”

“Okay.” Jess sat back down with a grin. “You can get him.”

Jess would have no trouble changing the baby, but they both knew Sarah was still in that protective new-mom stage where she liked to do everything the baby needed herself. She and Wes hadn’t even had a real date night since the baby was born, but they didn’t seem to be in a rush to leave baby Henry and his older sister, Marissa, with a sitter. They loved their family time, and it was endearing to see the four of them together.

A moment later, Sarah returned with the adorable four-month-old bundled in a soft, knitted blue blanket, his little foot sticking out one end. Jessica instantly reached for him.

Sarah pouted. “I just got him.”

“He’s yours. You can have him anytime. Auntie Jess only gets to cuddle him a few times a week. Don’t be selfish,” Jess teased.

Coupled up since Christmas with the local doctor, Jess was likely to be starting a family anytime now, too. Her best friends would probably race her to the altar as well. Though Whitney was already engaged, her wedding plans hadn’t been firmed up. And sometimes it felt like they never would be.

Sarah reluctantly handed the baby boy to Jess, but instead of going back to her chair, she sat on the edge of theirs. Being two feet away from the baby would be too far. She gently touched his cheek. “Isn’t he the most perfect thing you’ve ever seen?” she asked, staring lovingly at the tiny face poking out of the blanket.

Jessica agreed. “So perfect it hurts.”

“He’s smiling now, too,” Sarah said. “Real smiles. Not the gas grimaces we thought were smiles a few weeks ago.”

Jessica cooed and cawed at the child, trying to draw out one of those smiles, but the baby wasn’t having it. Sarah tickled his chin, but still nothing.

“He’s selective,” Sarah said with a laugh.

Jessica cuddled the baby and begrudgingly glanced at Whitney. “Want to hold him?”

Whitney shook her head, checking her watch. “I actually have to get back to the office.” She closed her laptop, stood, and collected her things. “Sarah, I’ll finalize these event promo brochures and send you the digitals for the website and social media this afternoon.”

Sarah nodded, still distracted by the baby. “Sounds great. No rush.”

What didn’t sound so great was Whitney’s abrupt refusal to hold the baby. She knew her friend was a little hurt by Whitney’s standoffish way when it came to her child…but it was just difficult for a lot of reasons she wasn’t quite ready to share with her friends yet.

But she bent to look at baby Henry and gently touched his toes peeking out from under the blanket. “Such a cutie,” she said sincerely.

And the baby blessed her with a smile that had her chest knotting.

Sarah’s shoulders relaxed a little. “See? He likes you,” she said, and Whitney heard the slight note in her friend’s voice that secretly pleaded for her to show more instances of affectionate Auntie Whitney.

“Talk to you both later,” Whitney said, descending the stairs and heading toward her new car. It wasn’t the banana-yellow two-seater convertible that had once been her baby, before she’d totaled it in a car accident the Christmas before. This one was a basic black SUV. Safe, dependable, better handling on slippery roads. And plenty of seats for the family her fiancé Trent envisioned in the not-so-distant future.

Whitney waved to her friends, and her hand shook slightly as she reached for the door handle.

Be cool in front of them.

Her friends tried to pretend that they weren’t, but she knew they were constantly watching her lately. Since the accident, they all worried about her, and she was desperate not to show any sign of fear around them.

But her heart raced as she climbed in behind the wheel and started the engine. The memory of that night going off the road on the curvy, winding stretch of coastal highway was never too far from her mind.

It’s only eight blocks and four minutes to the office.

Eight blocks and four minutes later, Whitney breathed a sigh of relief as she pulled into the parking lot in front of the tourism office and slid her sunglasses to the top of her head. Opening her purse, she retrieved her concealer and lowered the mirrored visor. The darkness under her eyes was getting harder to hide. She dabbed the light concealer onto her finger and reapplied it beneath her lower lashes, blending it in with her slightly darker tanned skin.

She grabbed her coffee from that morning from the console and got out of the car, forcing her legs forward.

What she really wanted was a nap, but if she gave in to that craving and fell asleep, she wasn’t sure she’d ever wake up.

Seeing Scott Rodale’s Escalade in the parking lot, she picked up her pace. The mayor’s son was back in Blue Moon Bay after finishing his master’s degree in business at UCLA. He was currently working as her assistant, but Whitney knew he’d specialized in communications. Scott was smart, a real go-getter, and he was a fast learner. The nagging sensation that her job could be on the line only fueled Whitney to work harder.

“How was lunch?” Kim Digby, the office receptionist, asked as Whitney entered the office. Fall-colored, leaf-shaped garland entwined with orange lights hung from the desk, and a plastic pumpkin sat on top. The distinct smell of pumpkin spice lingered on the air from Kim’s scented candles she liked to burn when no one was around.

“Lunch was good, thanks.” If her lukewarm third coffee of the day and half a muffin counted as lunch. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten anything substantial. The night before? No, she’d been at the office past nine, and she refused to eat after eight. Lunch the day before? Nope.

But who had time to eat when there was always work to do, emails to respond to, calls to make?

Her workload was a challenge when tourism was steady. Lack of it in recent months made it even more so, as she was constantly striving to find new ideas to bring people to town.

Down the hall, through the open blinds in the office window, she saw Scott in his mother’s office. Door closed.

They could just be having lunch. Discussing family stuff. Not executing Scott’s plan to steal my job out from under me.

Still, instead of rushing off into her own office, she lingered a beat at the reception desk. “Did you finish that episode of Love in the Books?” she asked Kim. The latest reality show that had everyone talking was about a group of romance authors battling it out for a publishing contract. Who knew watching people write would be so fascinating?

Kim looked slightly surprised at the attempt at chitchat as she pointed to Netflix paused on her computer screen. “I’m addicted. I’m going to lose my job. Thank you for telling me about this show,” she said.

Whitney forced a laugh. “You’re the mayor’s niece—I think you’re safe.”

Unlike me.

Whitney was a graduate of an online marketing course she’d taken part-time while holding down three jobs, a non–family member of the mayor’s who could and would be replaced if she didn’t continue to give 110 percent every day. She was lucky that Mayor Rodale had taken a chance on her, and in the last seven years, she’d refused to allow her boss any opportunity to second-guess that decision. She swallowed her unease. “Any calls?”

“Messages are on your desk.”

“Thanks.” Whitney walked into her office and closed the door.

Brilliant rays of midday sun shone through the large ceiling-to-floor window, warming the space. She adjusted her air-conditioning before sitting at her desk. Removing her shoes, she wiggled her toes, trying to regain circulation in her swollen feet. The usual icing hadn’t been helping the last few days. By tomorrow, she’d be wearing flats.

She forced a breath. It could be worse. So much worse.

But anything that slowed her down annoyed her. She needed this job now more than ever. The cost of Rejuvenation, her mother’s living facility, was a large expense every month, and there was no way Whitney would consider moving her to a more affordable home. No other job in town would pay her as much without a degree.

Like Scott’s.

She flicked through the messages on her desk—two from local photographers following up on the quotes they’d provided to contract next year’s Blue Moon Bay tourism calendar, one from a local artist hoping to showcase their work in the Winter Art Walk… She stopped at one from Rejuvenation. Her mother was refusing her Alzheimer’s meds again.

Her mother could be so stubborn about it sometimes. Just the day before, Whitney had explained to her how important they were to take. And in her lucid state, her mother agreed. But during her more confusing times, she was more difficult to reason with.

Though forcing medication on her mother made Whitney feel like a hypocrite.

She continued going through the messages, seeing one from Trent. She knew why he was calling. He’d texted her as well. He wanted to confirm their appointment at the jeweler’s that evening to pick out their wedding bands. At five o’clock, she’d be sending a “Sorry, got stuck at the office” text. He was pushing for a wedding date, hoping these trips to the jeweler’s, bridal shops, and flower shops would get her in the planning mood faster.

She stared at the picture of the two of them on her desk. Their first date, taken at the local pumpkin patch. It had been a favorite tradition of hers every year as a child with her parents, but it had been Trent’s first time there. It had quickly become their new tradition. They’d gone every year the last seven years…except last year when she’d been too busy to take the time off to go.

Seven years together.

If she could go back to that day a lifetime ago, knowing what she did now, would she have said yes to that first date?

…

Then…

Whitney parked her brand-new banana-yellow convertible in Jessica’s driveway and climbed out. She stood back to admire her very first car. She’d fallen in love with it the moment she’d seen it on the lot. Was it practical? No. But it was fun, fast, and sexy, and she was twenty-three years old. She had a whole lifetime to buy practical.

And besides, she was riding a high, and the car suited her current state of mind. Things were looking up. New job, new car, and new place…

Two days ago, she’d signed the lease on her own house and had officially moved out of the place she’d been sharing with Jess. It was an exciting time, yet she felt a tug at her chest as she walked up the front steps. They’d been roommates since high school graduation. They’d had some great memories together in the house, but it was time for Whitney to get her own place. A few months into her job at the mayor’s office as head of marketing and tourism and a small down payment, she was feeling financially secure enough to make the move.

And as much as she loved living with Jess, they both needed their own space. It wasn’t as though she’d moved far—she was four blocks away. They’d still see each other all the time. They may even be closer now when she didn’t have to deal with Jess’s messiness and Jess didn’t have to put up with Whitney’s late-night working, the sound of typing echoing off the walls in the small bungalow, keeping her awake.

This was the right thing. For everyone involved.

Whitney unlocked the door and entered. “Jess?” she called as she walked down the hall toward the living room, following the sound of someone getting up from the couch. Those damn creaking springs. She grinned. They’d furnished the place on a budget, and the secondhand couch had always been noisy. They kept saying they should buy a new one, but there was something sentimental about this one that neither of them had wanted to part with.

But now they were both doing well enough with Jess’s bakery, Delicious Delicacies, a huge success in its first year and Whitney’s new job—they planned on going furniture shopping together that weekend. No more creaky couch for either of them.

“Bet you’ll be happy to get rid of—” Whitney stopped short at the living room entrance, seeing a six-foot-five, two-hundred-pound man standing there. A six-foot-five, two-hundred-pound naked man. “Shit, sorry. I didn’t know Jess had company,” Whitney said, covering her eyes with her hand. Then, because she was only human, she snuck another quick peek at the godlike, magnificent creature standing in her best friend’s living room.

Where had he come from?

She’d only moved out two days ago. Why the hell hadn’t her friend mentioned she was dating someone? They told each other everything. Had it been a one-night-stand situation? Had Whitney walked in on the guy before his walk of shame? Not that he had anything to be ashamed of. Nope. Nothing, another quick peek confirmed.

“It’s okay,” the guy said. “All clear.”

Whitney removed her hand.

Hell no it wasn’t!

He’d put on his jeans. Only his jeans. He was still standing there shirtless, and the muscles upon muscles in his chest, stomach, and shoulders were making her slightly dizzy. How did a person achieve a body like that? Perfectly sculpted yet smooth and almost soft-looking…

Betrayal immediately hit her. She was lusting after Jess’s new guy. A sense of disappointment quickly followed. This guy was dating her friend, or at least had spent the night with Jess, which made him permanently off-limits if this was just a casual thing. Not that Jess really did casual. So even worse, Whitney was going to have a front-row seat to Jess’s happily-ever-after with this man.

She was a terrible friend.

“Is Jess here?” she asked, trying to avoid looking at the amazing body, which was difficult when he took up so much space in the tiny room.

“She left an hour ago for the bakery,” he said. “Can I help you with something?”

Huh, that was awfully forward. She was Jess’s best friend. She’d been her roommate for four years. He was the newcomer to this situation, and he was acting like he and Jess were already an item?

Hold up, buddy! Don’t go buying those his-and-hers towels just yet.

Although Jess would probably be thrilled to hear the guy was acting like a boyfriend already. Jess fell hard and fast for most of the men she dated. A hopeless romantic, she was already looking for “the one” and couldn’t wait to settle down and start a family. Whitney would tell her all about it. It would help after the confession that she’d seen her boyfriend’s junk.

“I just stopped in on my way to work to drop off my house key,” she said. One that would now probably belong to this guy.

“You must be Whitney.” He had a warm smile, and the most incredible set of dimples appearing on an otherwise very manly face.

“I am Whitney,” she said, almost robotically, still captivated by the smile.

“I am Legend,” he said, echoing her tone with a laugh.

She frowned. “Your name’s Legend?” Not a typical name, but it was actually fitting. He didn’t look like any real man she’d known in her everyday life.

But the guy shook his head. “No. It was a joke…like the movie.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “You know what, never mind. I’m Trent.” He walked toward her, hand extended, and she took a step back out into the hall. No way was she making physical contact with the guy.

He dropped his hand awkwardly.

“I’m late for work, so I’ll just leave this key here,” she said, placing it on the table near the door. Another secondhand treasure that had an old telephone book propping up one of the legs to keep it steady.

“Sure. Okay. I’ll let her know it’s there,” he said.

“Great. Thanks.” She headed for the door. Quickly. The space inside the small house seeming a lot smaller with this guy in it, and she needed the fresh fall air to clear the image of his naked body from her mind.

“Hey, Jess was actually planning on introducing us later tonight at some pumpkin patch thing,” he said behind her, “so maybe we could pretend this didn’t happen.”

Jess had invited this guy to their annual fall tradition? Without even asking her? She wasn’t sure how she felt about suddenly being the third wheel on one of her favorite fall activities. Or having to hide her attraction to her best friend’s date all evening. And she couldn’t help the sudden territorial feeling she was struggling with.

She turned and frowned. “Jess and I are best friends. We don’t keep stuff from each other. I’ll have to tell her that I saw…” She pointed to his lower region, her cheeks feeling slightly flushed.

“Her cousin’s penis? Maybe save her the gory details. That may just gross her out,” he said with a grin.

Whitney’s mouth dropped. “Cousin…” She racked her mind. Jessica only had one aunt. Another one of Frankie’s kids? Whitney thought she only had girls. She couldn’t remember ever meeting this guy…but he did seem a bit older. Thirty at least. “Why haven’t I met you, then?”

“I moved to the city straight out of high school and just moved back. I bought the old tavern on Main Street. Jess is letting me crash here for a few days until I find a place.”

Cousin, not boyfriend. Staying in Blue Moon Bay, not just visiting. An obvious setup for Whitney later that evening, not an awkward third-wheel situation.

This meeting had certainly changed course for the better.

“Well, welcome home,” Whitney said.

The dimples were back, and this time she felt zero guilt for enjoying the sight of them.

“Thank you. It’s great to be back,” he said. “And when we officially meet later, I’ll be sure to have clothes on.”

“That’s a shame, but probably for the best,” she said with her own teasing wink.