—RT Book Reviews (4 stars)
“With a dialogue full of energy and depth, and a twisting storyline that captured my attention, I would say that Doing It Over was a great way to start off a new series. (And look at that gorgeous book cover!) I can’t wait to visit River Bend again and see who else gets to find their HEA.”
—Harlequin Junkie (4½ stars)
Staying For Good
“Bybee’s skillfully crafted second Most Likely To contemporary (after Doing It Over) brings together former sweethearts who have not forgotten each other in the 11 years since high school. A cast of multidimensional characters brings the story to life and promises enticing future installments.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Romance fans will be sure to cheer on former high school sweethearts Zoe and Luke right away in Staying For Good. Just wait until you see what passion, laughter, reconciliations, and mischief (can you say Vegas?) awaits readers this time around. Highly recommended.”
—Harlequin Junkie (4½ stars)
Making It Right
“Intense suspense heightens the scorching romance at the heart of Bybee’s outstanding third Most Likely To contemporary (after Staying For Good). Sizzling sensual scenes are coupled with scary suspense in this winning novel.”
—Publishers Weekly (starred review)
Also by Catherine Bybee
Contemporary Romance
Weekday Brides Series
Wife by Wednesday
Married by Monday
Fiancé by Friday
Single by Saturday
Taken by Tuesday
Seduced by Sunday
Treasured by Thursday
Not Quite Series
Not Quite Dating
Not Quite Mine
Not Quite Enough
Not Quite Forever
Not Quite Perfect
Most Likely To Series
Doing It Over
Staying For Good
Making It Right
First Wives Series
Fool Me Once
Paranormal Romance
MacCoinnich Time Travels
Binding Vows
Silent Vows
Redeeming Vows
Highland Shifter
Highland Protector
The Ritter Werewolves Series
Before the Moon Rises
Embracing the Wolf
Novellas
Soul Mate
Possessive
Erotica
Kilt Worthy
Kilt-A-Licious
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Text copyright © 2018 by Catherine Bybee
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Montlake Romance, Seattle
www.apub.com
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Montlake Romance are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781503951730
ISBN-10: 1503951731
Cover design by Letitia Hasser
This one is for Kelli Martin, my sister from a different mister.
Love you!
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Chapter One
“Smells like snow.”
Rachel glanced up past the skyscrapers and into the bright gray sky. “Does it?”
“It really doesn’t snow in California?” Julie asked.
The two of them took a brisk pace around their building toward Romano’s, where a hot lunch filled with way too many carbs awaited.
“It does in the mountains.” Rachel opened the door, happy that her gloves kept the cold of the metal handle from reaching her skin. “Which I never went to during the winter.”
The heat from inside the small restaurant rushed against their exposed skin and resulted in a collective sigh.
They had thirty minutes before the mad rush of lunchtime traffic in Manhattan, with lines out the doors and everyone talking at the top of their lungs.
With four patrons in front of them, Rachel took her place in line. “I’ll be the first to admit I’m not ready for your winters.”
“You’re not ready for our summers either.” Julie moved aside as a man who appeared to be wearing three jackets walked by with a tray full of soup and crusty French bread. The deli style restaurant was the way to eat when you only had an hour to do so.
Truth be told, Rachel was a little apprehensive about the weather. She’d left the ninety-degree heat on the West Coast during early September and experienced the instant cool temperatures and changing of the colors of fall in New York.
They moved forward in line as they chatted. “I should probably get some chains for my car.”
Julie shook her head, straight black hair brushing against her shoulders as she did. “I don’t understand why you insist on driving in.”
“Public transportation scares me.”
“Of all the things to be afraid of, a subway isn’t one of them.”
“It is when you haven’t used them.” They’d had this discussion before, one where Julie would roll her eyes while properly scolding her in both English and Korean.
“Tell me how it works out the first time you find yourself in a ditch on your way home.”
Rachel lived a little over an hour outside of Manhattan and took the commute as any LA native would: with a smile. The commute she’d had back home was twice the time, so she looked at her current situation as a win.
“I won’t end up in a ditch.” As the words left her lips, she instantly saw her sporty SUV sliding into snow-covered water with her emergency lights flashing. “I’ll be fine,” she said to herself more than her friend. “Everyone in California has a car, and none of us use the bus.”
“Like that matters in a place where it’s three hundred and fifty days of sunshine and fifteen days of sprinkles.”
“Hey, it rains.”
Julie narrowed her already narrow eyes in Rachel’s direction.
“Whatever.”
They both laughed and stepped up to the counter.
Ten minutes later, the two hovered over a table as three other customers left. They slid into the recently occupied seats and made quick work of taking their first bites.
“Weekend plans?” Julie asked.
“Unpack.”
“You’ve been here for nearly three months.”
“Every room needed fresh paint and a stupid amount of cleaning before we unpacked. There are only so many hours after work and on weekends.”
“Did you ever get to your room?”
Rachel had made sure Owen was completely taken care of before working on her own space. Between moving to the opposite coast, changing schools, and finding new friends, it was surprising he smiled as much as he did. He wasn’t a complainer by nature, a trait he’d inherited from his mother. Rachel paused and a
llowed the depth of her loss to move on. “I’m finishing up my room this weekend.”
“How is Owen getting along at school?”
“He likes his teachers, is passing all his class—”
“That isn’t what I mean.”
Rachel spoke around her food. “There are a couple of neighborhood kids who have welcomed him into their circle.”
“Same age?”
“Lionel is a junior. Ford is Owen’s age.”
Rachel thought of the three boys the first time Owen had them over. For the first time in months, she walked into Owen’s room to find him belly laughing at something one of the boys said. She’d leaned against the doorframe and watched them. And in that moment she knew they were going to be all right.
“I don’t know how you do it.” Julie finished her soup and nibbled on the bread that came with it. “I can hardly take care of myself.”
“You’d figure it out if you had to.”
“Instant mom, changing your home, your job.”
“Same kind of job, different company.”
Julie glanced at the man behind her who bumped into her chair while trying to climb into his. “When was the last time you went on a date?”
Rachel glared. “Are you going to ask me that question every week?”
“Yes. I am. You’re too young to be hanging it up in suburbia alone.”
“I’m not alone.” Rachel glanced at her watch and stood.
“You have to promise me the first time Owen stays over at his buddy’s, you’re calling me, and we’re going out. You’ve been in the city for a season, and my guess is you’ve only seen the streets on your commute and the few blocks we walk to find lunch.”
Julie was right. Rachel hadn’t explored the city any farther than what her work mandated. A shame, really . . . but not something she could help.
“You’ll be the first to know.”
The sharpness of the frozen temperature nipped at her lungs with each breath once they were back outside. She fished her gloves out of her pockets and pulled them on for the brief walk back to their building.
She was most definitely not in California anymore.
“Mr. Fairchild, your brother is on line two.”
Jason glanced at the light blinking from his desk phone.
He signed the correspondence in front of him and lifted the receiver. “What’s up, Glen?”
“Ha. Try again.”
Trent. “Fifty-fifty chance of screwing that up.”
“More like seventy-thirty with the amount of hours Glen puts in compared to me.”
It was nice having his youngest brother back with the company. Even if it was only a couple of days a week, when he wasn’t gallivanting over the globe with his wife and humanitarian efforts.
“Anytime you want to jump in—”
“Bite your tongue.” Trent wasn’t a nine-to-fiver, and lucky for all of them, Fairchild Charters ran like the well-oiled machine that it was. Their planes spent more time in the air than most of their competition, the brokers found new clients every week, and their expansion across the globe had grown 15 percent in the past twenty-four months with a company growth of 5 to 7 percent annually in the past decade.
Things were good.
“So what is the uncharacteristic Friday afternoon call about?”
“I’m calling to give you a heads-up.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, Monica and Mary have been talking.”
Jason leaned back in his chair and focused his gaze outside his window. “Should I be worried?”
“About you. They found out you didn’t make it to Robert’s for Thanksgiving.”
“I was sick.” Which was only half a truth. He’d found out earlier that Robert’s wife had invited a woman she had been trying to set Jason up with for six months. Seems like everyone was working the find-a-girlfriend service for him for the past year.
“Monica isn’t buying it.”
“Monica doesn’t have to buy anything.”
“Like it or not, my wife cares. Neither she nor Mary will rest if they think you’re alone for Christmas.”
Since Trent and Monica had spent Thanksgiving in Texas with Monica’s sister and her family, and Glen and Mary were enjoying fried turkey on the California shores with Mary’s best friend, it was safe to assume Christmas would include someone in Connecticut. “So are they picking straws to see who is sticking around for Christmas?”
“We all are.”
“So why are they worried I’ll be alone?”
“They’re not. But Monica is going to come over this weekend to plan, and chances are, she’s going to read you the riot act for not joining Robert and Liz for Thanksgiving.”
“She’s coming to the ranch?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Because you have the biggest place, and if you’re hosting, you can’t flake.”
“I’m not a flake.”
“Easter.”
Jason thought back to the previous spring. “I was in London.”
“And what, you couldn’t get a flight home?”
“It didn’t make sense for me to fly home for dinner when I needed to be in meetings the following week.”
“Meetings you arranged at the last minute that only included a sprinkling of employees.”
“Fine.”
“Fine what?”
“We can have Christmas at the ranch.”
Trent laughed. “Was I asking?”
No, and he didn’t have to. The ranch was as much Trent’s as it was his.
“I have one condition.”
“Condition?” Trent didn’t sound convinced.
“Yeah. No blind dates.”
When Trent didn’t comment, Jason knew he’d pressed a button. “Trent?”
“I won’t set up anything.”
“You won’t let your wife set up anything either.”
Trent belly laughed. “Have you met my wife? I don’t tell her what she can or can’t do. It’s what keeps me aboveground.”
“I mean it, Trent. No setups in my own house.”
There was a pause. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Jason moaned.
“If you just brought your own date . . .”
“Yeah, yeah.” Outside his office window, he noticed the sky growing lighter. He stood at the glass and looked up. “Are you home?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Is it snowing?”
“Started about a half an hour ago.”
Jason frowned. “Was it in the forecast?” He usually paid attention to those things.
“Couldn’t tell you.”
He returned to his desk and clicked around his computer until he found his weather station. From the looks of the sky, he’d already lost his opportunity to helicopter home.
“If there isn’t anything else, some of us have to work.”
The sound of Trent’s dogs barking brought a smile to Jason’s face. “See ya.”
He hung up and found his eyes drawn to the window again. The season’s first snow was most often welcomed, but the last one was cursed . . . especially if it extended into spring.
Resigned to the long drive home, he returned to his desk and turned to the never-ending stack of papers he needed to sign.
Everything was fine, peaceful even, until Rachel reached the city limits. How so much snow could pile up in only five hours, she didn’t know. She hugged the right lane and let the natives in the area buzz past her on the left. She’d already sent a text to Owen, letting him know she would likely be home late. He responded with half a dozen emoticons ranging from snowflakes to snowmen. For him, the snow would be nothing but a reason to put the video game aside and get outside.
On the highway, the snow fell at a slow, even clip . . . almost like a sprinkle of rain. When she reached her exit, those tiny flakes turned into quarter-size monsters that settled on her windshield wipers like drifts of sand that didn’t want to wash away with the tid
e.
It didn’t take long for the asphalt to disappear, only to be replaced by the tracks of previous cars that had driven ahead of her.
“Slow and steady,” she repeated to herself.
Each stoplight was met with apprehension and white knuckles.
“Stay green.”
Her foot hovered over her brakes until she passed through. When she drove through the last town before the long stretch of nothing leading her home, it was after seven. Thankfully, the roads were all but empty.
She reached a stop sign at a crawl. For one brief moment her tires locked up, and she slid.
Her heart squeezed in her chest, even though there wasn’t any opposing traffic to hit. Rachel pumped her brakes until she managed a stop.
Closing her eyes, she sucked in a deep breath and continued on even slower than before.
“First thing tomorrow, chains.” Not that she knew how to put them on. How hard could it be?
Less than five miles from her neighborhood, Rachel loosened her grip on the wheel. Confidence that she wouldn’t be the California girl taken out by her first snow washed over her.
The two-lane road with its tiny hill gave her pause. She felt her tires spin at the base, and instead of staying in the slick tracks of the drivers before her, she inched to the side of the road and let her chainless treads grip the fresh snow.
Lights from a car behind her came up fast. Well, fast for the crawl she was doing.
One eye on her rearview mirror, one eye on the empty road in front of her, Rachel mentally told the other driver to go around.
She reached the top of the small hill as the driver behind her moved in close.
Lights blinded her briefly before the other car shifted to the side to pass.
At the crest of the hill, with no other illumination in sight, the other driver pulled around.
One second she was releasing a long-suffering sigh, the next her heart kicked hard in her chest.
The other driver lost traction, and the back end of their car started to slide.
Rachel hit her brakes, realized her mistake as it happened.
Not Quite Crazy Page 3
