by Melody Grace
Always Be Mine
Sweetbriar Cove: Book Nine
Melody Grace
Melody Grace Books
Copyright © 2017 by Melody Grace
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover design copyright British Empire Designs.
Created with Vellum
Contents
Introduction
Also by Melody Grace
Always Be Mine
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Two Hearts
Chapter 1
About the Author
Epilogue
Also by Melody Grace
Thank you for reading!
I’ve been waiting to tell Lila’s story ever since the Hollywood star turned runaway bride in ’The Only One’. Now she’s starting over in Sweetbriar Cove, but she isn’t expecting sparks to fly with her sexy new gardener, Griffin!
I hope you enjoy their story - and catching up with familiar friends in town.
xo Melody
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Also By Melody Grace:
The Sweetbriar Cove Series:
1. Meant to Be
2. All for You
3. The Only One
4. I’m Yours
5. Holiday Kisses (A Christmas Story)
6. No Ordinary Love
7. Wildest Dreams
8. This Kiss
9. Always Be Mine
10. Two Hearts
11. The Story of Us
* * *
The Beachwood Bay Series:
1.Untouched
2.Unbroken
3.Untamed Hearts
4.Unafraid
5.Unwrapped
6.Unconditional
7.Unrequited
8.Uninhibited
9.Unstoppable
10.Unexpectedly Yours
11.Unwritten
12.Unmasked
13.Unforgettable
* * *
The Oak Harbor Duet:
1.Heartbreaker
2.Reckless Hearts
* * *
With Every Heartbeat
* * *
The Promise
Welcome to Sweetbriar Cove: the small town where happily-ever-after is guaranteed.
* * *
Book Nine
ALWAYS BE MINE
Watch love bloom in the new Sweetbriar Cove romance from New York Times bestselling author, Melody Grace!
Actress Lila Moore is starting over. Escaping Hollywood scandal, she’s hiding out in Sweetbriar Cove to plan the next chapter in her life. The last thing she wants is an annoyingly handsome man snooping in her business, even if It turns out that he’s not the paparazzi… but her new gardener.
Landscape designer Griffin Forrester doesn’t care about gossip, and he definitely doesn’t have time for a high-strung client like Lila. He prefers getting dirty planting spring bulbs, not walking the red carpet at a fancy premiere. As far as he’s concerned, their relationship is strictly business. But it turns out, Lila isn’t anything like the diva he expected. And when sparks fly, he can’t stay away…
Soon, the gardens aren’t the only thing blossoming at Rose Cottage. But can Lila trust enough to open her heart again? And when the past catches up with them, will this unlikely couple find a way to keep love in season all year long?
Find out in the new feel-good romance from Melody Grace!
The Sweetbriar Cove Series:
1. Meant to Be
2. All for You
3. The Only One
4. I’m Yours
5. Holiday Kisses (A Christmas Story)
6. No Ordinary Love
7. Wildest Dreams
8. This Kiss
9. Always Be Mine
10. Two Hearts
11. The Story of Us
1
All Lila Moore wanted was to be left alone—which wasn’t easy when you were one of the most famous women on the planet.
“Look, just come back to Los Angeles,” her agent pleaded with her on the other end of the phone. “We can book the morning shows, do a big, tearful tell-all with Barbara Walters, and then everyone will forget you left him at the altar and move on.”
“I told you, I’m not going to play that game.” Lila glanced around to check nobody was listening to her, whispering in the canned goods aisle, but the grocery store was blissfully empty. It was springtime on Cape Cod, and the tourist season hadn’t started yet. Nobody paid any mind to the woman in a baggy jacket, with her blonde hair hidden under a baseball cap, but why would they?
Here, at least, nobody cared who she was.
“One little exclusive tell-all,” her agent, Matt, begged. “Gossip is only crazy because you refuse to give them anything to write about. Just tell your side of the story, say you need some space, and they’ll all move on.”
“You mean ask people to please respect my privacy while I pose for paparazzi at the stage doors?” Lila countered. She found herself standing by the magazine racks and took in the spread of brightly colored tabloid covers. There she was—at least, an old, Photoshopped picture of her. Lila’s Lovesick and Alone! it screamed. Lila let out a weary sigh. “It’s been over a year now,” she said sadly. “How much longer will anyone care who I did or didn’t marry?”
“Until they get the full, juicy story,” Matt replied, sounding sympathetic. “Or until Justin’s press team stops planting stories about what a heartless wench you are. Which doesn’t seem likely, with his new career.”
No, it didn’t. Lila flipped the pages until she found the double-page spread: her ex-fiancé, Justin Cartwright, frolicking on a beach in the Bahamas with some beautiful model. The photos were so good, they had to be staged.
She lingered on the snaps, feeling a wave of regret—and relief. Back when they’d been together, Justin had always stayed out of the spotlight. It was one of the reasons she’d fallen for him: the promise of a real life together, far from flashing cameras and the red-carpet scene. But it turned out he’d been planning his move all along, a shot at political office, and now he’d taken the scandal of their wrecked wedding and used it to aim straight for the top. A weekly TV news show. A book deal. And, of course, the murmurs about a run at governor, one day.
She was better off without him, she knew that, but still, her chest ached when she thought of the life they could have shared if only things had been different.
“Lila—” Matt tried again, but she cut him off.
“I’m not coming back. Not for a while, anyway.”
“But what about your career? Directors are fickle. If you slip off the radar—”
“Then they weren’t
ever casting me for my talent,” Lila replied firmly. “When I’m ready to start auditioning again, I’ll let you know.”
“You can’t keep running,” Matt said quietly. “One of these days, you’re going to have to figure out what comes next.”
Lila swallowed back the lump in her throat. “I’m not running.”
But her voice sounded unconvincing, even to her. She said her goodbyes and hung up, his words lingering as she finished up her shopping in the tiny, cluttered store.
The problem was, her agent was right. She had been running for too long now. She’d already been signed on to a movie when the disastrous breakup happened, so she’d been able to fly straight to six months of shooting on a remote soundstage in Australia. Then she’d hidden out at her mom’s place in Indiana, until the press had tracked her down, and from there, it had been a race to get away. England. France. Even a meditation retreat in the hills of Sri Lanka. Every time she thought she’d found some peace, she’d spot a car loitering just outside the gates, or see those telltale paparazzi waiting down the street. Lila was beginning to feel like a fugitive on the run, jumping at shadows.
Until she’d come to Sweetbriar Cove.
It was almost like returning to the scene of the crime. The big wedding had been planned right here, at a gorgeous hotel just outside of town. She’d fallen in love with the sweeping ocean views and small-town charm, and so when she’d needed another place to hide, she’d found herself booking a ticket, renting a car, and driving her way up the coast until she’d arrived back at the place where it had all begun.
Where she’d finally decided to listen to her intuition.
In winter, it had been easy to find an empty vacation cottage, and even easier to stay completely invisible. She’d avoided all the big holiday festivities and kept to herself: walking along the windswept beaches, reading in front of the fire, teaching herself to cook from old recipe books she’d found in the kitchen. Day by day, she’d relaxed a little more, that anxious tension she’d been carrying slowly melting away, until she finally felt like herself again. A calm she hadn’t known in ten years, since the day she’d landed her first big acting role, aged eighteen, and been launched into the whirlwind of Hollywood glamour—and all the drama that came along with it.
Now, she browsed the aisles with her basket and a scribbled list of ingredients for tonight’s big dish: a fresh pasta with spicy tomato sauce. The page in the recipe book had been stained and worn, so Lila was guessing it was a favorite. She picked out tomatoes and peppers, fresh basil, and flour for the pasta.
Pasta!
She didn’t think she’d eaten a bowl in years. Of course, she always ordered it, so the journalist interviewing her could marvel as what a normal appetite she had (stars, they’re just like us!), but Lila had become an expert in pushing food around her plate to hide the fact she never ate much of anything at all. She had to. Designers wouldn’t dress you over a size 2, and as for the Hollywood executives . . . She’d shown up on set one day to find the studio had hired her a personal trainer and a nutritionist to monitor every bite she took. Because God forbid she put on five pounds and not be sexy enough to play the girlfriend to a middle-aged, balding actor.
Now, she thought of that executive with a smile as she put a large package of butter in her basket, and a hunk of parmesan cheese, too. What the hell, maybe she’d even throw in a tub of ice cream for dessert!
She rounded the corner to go pay and slammed straight into someone coming the other direction.
“Oof!” she blurted, stumbling back—straight into a display of canned beans. They tumbled to the ground with a clatter, rolling in every direction.
Lila cringed at the noise. So much for staying invisible!
“Well, I guess I’ll be making chili tonight,” the man she’d bumped into chuckled, and he reached down to grab a couple of cans. He flashed Lila a grin. “Sorry about that. Are you OK?”
Lila blinked, caught for a moment by the easy warmth in his smile.
Hello.
Golden and rugged and blue-eyed, this guy looked like he’d strolled straight out of Central Casting. In well-worn denim and a plaid shirt rolled up over tanned forearms, the only thing he was missing was a cowboy hat or golden retriever.
“I, umm, yes,” she finally managed to reply. “I’m fine.”
The man paused, his gaze turning quizzical. “Wait, don’t I know you . . . ?”
Lila froze.
“. . . You’re friends with Brooke, right?” the man continued, and Lila exhaled in a rush of relief.
“No,” she said quickly, tugging her cap lower. “You must have me confused.”
She hurried to the front register and quickly paid before he placed her, then set out for home. It was a gorgeous spring day, so she’d walked the short mile to the store. At least, it had been short when she wasn’t carrying anything, but heading back now with two brimming bags, Lila was beginning to regret the choice. Still, it was a lovely walk, skirting the Sweetbriar town square, and then veering off down a winding country lane that took her past open fields, the ocean glittering blue just down the hill. After the barren, cold winter, everything was suddenly green and lush: leaves on the trees, blossoms budding, and the sound of songbirds chorusing against the backdrop of the crashing ocean waves.
It was enough to make Lila believe in the promise of spring: fresh starts and turning to a blank page.
The cottage she was renting was like something out of an English storybook, with uneven stone walls, a gray slate roof, and a peeling blue door. She pushed open the gate and navigated her way up the front path, which was practically hidden by a dense thicket of bramble bushes, wildflowers, and knee-high grass. The gardens were a wilderness, you needed a pair of shears just to hack your way past the house, but Lila liked them that way. They felt like a magical forest, protecting her from the outside world.
Unlocking the front door, she stepped inside and went straight to the cozy kitchen to unpack. This was where she spent most of her time: slicing and stirring something on the big old range, with the windows wide open onto the crisp back garden breeze, and the flagstone floor cool under her bare feet. It wasn’t stylish or modern by any measure, not compared to her sleek house back in the Hollywood Hills, but Lila loved the afternoons she spent, sitting at the farmhouse table with a book and a plate of biscuits, with the radio playing an old ’60s song and the neighborhood tabby cat sunning himself on the window ledge.
Today, her new friend was already waiting to leap up when she opened the window. He let out a chirrup as she scratched under his chin, his tail already swooping happily. “You just love me for my table scraps,” she teased, as, sure enough, he jumped down and sniffed hopefully at the dish she’d started setting out for him. “What do you think . . . Reggie? Buck? Tabitha?” she tried out the different names, but still, nothing stuck. Without a nametag, the cat’s identity was still a mystery, but judging by his sleek coat and fat belly, he belonged to someone—or was just scamming every house in the neighborhood for treats.
Lila poured a bowl of milk for the unnamed rascal, and then unpacked, setting aside the ingredients for tonight’s dish. She’d never made fresh pasta before, but she’d found an old crank-handled gadget in one of the cupboards and couldn’t resist the challenge.
She smiled, catching herself. A wild night in with the pasta crank. If only her old friends could see her now. . .
Back in Los Angeles, she’d probably just be getting back from spinning or Pilates and settling in with her hair and makeup team to get dolled up before heading out to an event. A new club opening, an awards dinner—there was always something on the schedule. She’d smile and pose for pictures and charm everyone in sight, before finally getting home after midnight, exhausted, and setting her alarm for a 5 a.m. photoshoot.
People flipping through those magazines didn’t realize the grueling routine it took to be Lila Moore: Movie Star, but no matter what, she never complained. Lila always made a rule of that.
She’d grown up in the suburbs of Indiana, with her mom working night shifts at the hospital and her dad selling computer software to make a living. She’d worked hard for her big break: going to hundreds of auditions, waiting tables to make rent and pay for headshots and gas money, but that didn’t mean she’d earned her good fortune. There were a thousand hopefuls just like her who simply hadn’t been in the right place at the right time, with the right look for the director to glance up from his script and decide in that split second that she was the one.
Because that was all it took: luck. Lila was lucky to be in the spotlight; lucky to have her face on the cover of magazines, to have endorsement deals and make sure her family wanted for nothing; to travel and see the world and play leading roles that any other ingénue in Hollywood would have killed to win. Lila refused to take any of it for granted, the way other stars seemed to do. She never showed up late or threw diva tantrums, and she always treated everyone with respect, right down to the assistant fetching coffee or the driver sent to pick her up.
But sometimes, late at night, when she was finally alone, and the noise and flattery had faded away, the doubts crept closer in their place.
If she was really so lucky, then why did she secretly dream about disappearing and just leaving it all behind?
