by Jill Shalvis
“Aw,” Ali said, softening. “So cute.”
At her voice, Gus startled, and with a little girl–like squeal, fell right out of the chair. Still carefully cradling the unharmed kitten, he glared at Ali. “Christ Almighty, woman, make some noise next time. You scared Sweetheart here half to death.”
Sweetheart had her eyes half closed in ecstasy. “Yes, I can see that,” Ali said wryly, reaching out to pet the adorable gray ball of fluff. “I can also see how very hard the two of you are working back here.”
She couldn’t tell if Gus blushed behind the thick, black beard, but he did have the good grace to at least look a little bit abashed as he lumbered to his feet. “I wanted to help you,” he said, “but I had Sweetheart in my pocket, and the boss told me twice already not to bring her here. But she howls when I leave her home, and my roommate said if I didn’t take her with me today, she was going to be his Doberman’s afternoon snack.”
“Sweetheart’s secret is safe with me,” Ali said. “I just need to get into Teddy’s office for a minute.”
Gus scratched his beard. “I’m not supposed to let anyone into the offices.”
“I know,” Ali said, “and I wouldn’t ask, except I left something in there.” She’d made Teddy a ceramic pot. It was a knotty pine tree trunk that held pens and pencils, and she’d signed it with her initials. There was no way she was leaving it in his possession. He didn’t deserve it. “Please, Gus? I’ll only be a minute.”
He sighed. “Okay, but only because you guys are always real nice to me. Teddy knows about Sweetheart, and he didn’t rat me out.” He set the sweet little kitten on his shoulder, where she happily perched, and then led the way to Teddy’s office. There he pulled out a key ring that was bigger around than Ali’s head, located the correct key by some mysterious system, and opened the office door. “Lock up behind you.”
“Will do,” Ali said, and as Gus left her, she went straight to Teddy’s desk.
No knotty pine pot with the little heart she’d cut into the bottom. She turned in a slow circle. The office was masculine and projected success, and the few times she’d been here, she’d always felt such pride for Teddy.
That’s not what she was feeling now. In fact, she sneezed twice in a row at some unseen dust, annoying herself as she looked for the pot. She finally located it in the credenza behind the desk, shoved in the very bottom beneath a bunch of crap. It was the shape of a Silver Pine tree trunk, every last detail lovingly recreated down to the knots and rings around the base. For a minute, Ali stared at the pot she’d been so proud of, shame and embarrassment clogging her throat. Swallowing both, she grabbed it, locked the door as she’d promised, found and thanked Gus, and left.
In her truck, she drew in a deep breath and drove off. It was a Winters’s gift, the ability to shove the bad stuff down deep and keep moving. Teddy wasn’t even a five on the bad stuff meter, she told herself.
As always in Lucky Harbor, traffic was light. At night, strings of white lights would make the place look like something straight from a postcard, but now, in the early light, each storefront’s windows glinted in the bright sunlight.
Things stayed the same here, could be counted on here. She thought maybe it was that—the sense of stability, security, and safety—that drew her the most.
Her three S’s.
At least until last night…
She put in her shift at the flower shop, worrying about how light business was. She brought it up to Russell at lunch, gently, that she felt she really had something to offer here, the very least of which was a website. But Russell, equally as gently, rebuked her. Like his sister Mindy before him, he was a technophobe. Hell, even the books were still done by hand, despite their bookkeeper’s urging to update their system. Grace Scott, a local bookkeeper, had given up on changing Russell’s mind, but Ali was going to bash her head up against his stubbornness, convinced they would make a great partnership.
On her break she used her smartphone to fill out as many online applications for apartments as she could find. By six o’clock, she was back at the beach house, hoping not to run into Teddy. She didn’t, which was good for his life expectancy. Even better, the front door key still worked. Bonus. She had a roof over her head for at least one more night.
In the kitchen, she tossed her keys into the little bowl she’d set by the back door to collect Teddy’s pocket crap. Out of curiosity, she poked through the stuff there: a button, some change, and…two ticket stubs, dated a week ago for a show in Seattle.
A show she hadn’t gone to.
She stared at the stubs, then set them down and walked away. Something else niggled at her as she headed into her bedroom, but she couldn’t concentrate on that, because she was realizing that Teddy had been working 24/7 for weeks. And before that, he’d been sick and had slept in a spare bedroom. They hadn’t actually slept together in…she couldn’t even remember.
Which meant that Ali had been very late to her own break up.
At this, her heart squeezed a little bit. Not in regret. She tried really hard not to do regrets. It wasn’t mourning either, not for Teddy, not after hearing him cheat on her. It was the realization that she’d really loved the idea of what they’d had more than the actual reality of it.
Sad.
She stripped down to her panties and bra before it occurred to her what the niggling feeling from before was. Reversing her tracks, she ran barefoot back to the large living room.
The house had come fully furnished, but Ted had always made the place his own, thanks to the messy, disorganized way he had of leaving everything spread around. Running shoes hastily kicked off by the front door. Suit jacket slung over the back of the couch. Tie hanging askance from a lamp. His laptop, e-reader, tablet, smartphone, and other toys had always been plugged into electrical outlets, and when they weren’t, the cords hung lifeless, waiting to be needed.
Not now. Now it was all gone, even his fancy, highfalutin microbrews from the fridge. Everything was gone, including her iPod.
How she’d missed that this morning, she had no idea, but facts were facts—Teddy had moved out on her like a thief in the night.
* * *
Detective Lieutenant Luke Hanover had been away from the San Francisco Police Department for exactly one day of his three-week leave and already he’d lost his edge, walking into his grandma’s Lucky Harbor beach house to find a B&E perp standing in the kitchen.
She sure as hell was the prettiest petty thief he’d ever come across—at least from the back, since she was wearing nothing but a white lace bra and a tiny scrap of matching white lace panties.
“You have some nerve you…you rat fink bastard,” she said furiously into her cell phone, waving her free hand for emphasis, her long, wildly wavy brown hair flying around her head as she moved.
And that wasn’t all that moved. She was a bombshell, all of her sweet, womanly curves barely contained in her undies.
“I want you to know,” she went on, still not seeing Luke, “there’s no way in hell I’m accepting your breakup message. You hear me, Teddy? I’m not accepting it, because I’m breaking up with you. And while we’re at it, who even does that? Who breaks up with someone by text? I’ll tell you who, Teddy, a real jerk, that’s who— hello? Dammit!”
Pulling the phone from her ear, she stared at the screen and then hit a number before whipping it back up to her ear. “Your voice mail cut me off,” she snapped. “You having sex in your office while I was in the building? Totally cliché. But not telling me that you weren’t planning to re-sign the lease? That’s just rotten to the core, Teddy. And don’t bother calling me back on this. Oh, wait, that’s right, you don’t call—you text!” Hitting END, she tossed the phone to the counter. Hands on hips, steam coming out her ears, she stood there a moment. Then, with a sigh, she thunked her forehead against the refrigerator a few times before pressing it to the cool, steel door.
Had she knocked herself out?
“It’s just one bad day
,” she whispered while standing in the perfect position for him to pat her down for weapons.
Not that she was carrying—well, except for that lethal bod.
“Just one really rotten, badass day,” she repeated softly, and Luke had to disagree.
“Not from where I’m standing,” he said.
Don’t miss Jill Shalvis’s bestselling Lucky Harbor series.
“Heartwarming and sexy…an abundance of chemistry, smoldering romance, and hilarious sisterly antics.”
—Publishers Weekly on Simply Irresistible
* * *
“A Perfect Ten! Tara and Ford have some seriously hot chemistry going on and they make the most of it in THE SWEETEST THING. Trust me; you'll need an ice-cold drink nearby.”
—RomanceReviewsToday.com
* * *
“This touching, character-rich, laughter-laced, knockout sizzler is the latest in Shalvis's award-winning series.”
—Library Journal, starred review
* * *
“Count on Jill Shalvis for a witty, steamy, unputdownable love story.”
—Robyn Carr, New York Times bestselling author of Redwood Bend
* * *
“Shalvis makes me laugh, makes me cry, makes me sigh with pure pleasure.”
—Susan Andersen, New York Times bestselling author of Playing Dirty
* * *
“Top Pick! 4 1/2 Stars! Laughter is served in doses as generous as the chocolate the heroine relies on to get through the day. Readers will treasure each turn of the page and be sorry when this one is over.”
—RT Book Reviews
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A Runaway Heiress…
If saving her grandfather’s life means giving up the social whirl of Boston for the rustic charm of Texas, socialite Annelise Montjoy is more than happy to make that sacrifice. Determined to find the long-lost relative who holds the key to her grandfather’s recovery, Annelise will have to hide the truth about who she really is until she earns the trust of the Maverick Junction locals.
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Cash Hardeman thought he’d have all the time in the world to find the right woman…until he discovered that his gold-digging step-grandmother will inherit the family ranch if Cash doesn’t marry by his thirtieth birthday. With the deadline just around the corner and no prospects in sight, Cash knows it’s only a matter of time before he loses everything. But when Boston beauty Annie blows into his life, Cash can’t help wondering if she’s the answer to his prayers.
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Contents
Title Page
Welcome Page
Dedication
Author Letter
Prologue
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
Epilogue
About the Author
An Excerpt from Blue Flame
An Excerpt from It Had to Be You
You Might Also Like…
Newsletters
Copyright Page
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2004 by Jill Shalvis
Excerpt from Blue Flame copyright © 2004 by Jill Shalvis
Excerpt from It Had to Be You copyright © 2013 by Jill Shalvis
Cover design by Melody Cassen, cover photograph © Rjlerich/Dreamstime. Cover copyright © 2013 by Hachette Book Group, Inc.
All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
Forever Yours
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First e-book and print on demand editions: March 2013
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ISBN 978-1-4555-2964-3 (e-book edition)
ISBN 978-1-4555-4755-5 (print on demand edition)
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