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Chapters (57)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright
  4. Dedication
  5. Chapter One
  6. Chapter Two
  7. Chapter Three
  8. Chapter Four
  9. Chapter Five
  10. Chapter Six
  11. Chapter Seven
  12. Chapter Eight
  13. Chapter Nine
  14. Chapter Ten
  15. Chapter Eleven
  16. Chapter Twelve
  17. Chapter Thirteen
  18. Chapter Fourteen
  19. Chapter Fifteen
  20. Chapter Sixteen
  21. Chapter Seventeen
  22. Chapter Eighteen
  23. Chapter Nineteen
  24. Chapter Twenty
  25. Chapter Twenty-One
  26. Chapter Twenty-Two
  27. Chapter Twenty-Three
  28. Chapter Twenty-Four
  29. Chapter Twenty-Five
  30. Chapter Twenty-Six
  31. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  32. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  33. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  34. Chapter Thirty
  35. Chapter Thirty-One
  36. Chapter Thirty-Two
  37. Chapter Thirty-Three
  38. Chapter Thirty-Four
  39. Chapter Thirty-Five
  40. Chapter Thirty-Six
  41. Chapter Thirty-Seven
  42. Chapter Thirty-Eight
  43. Chapter Thirty-Nine
  44. Chapter Forty
  45. Chapter Forty-One
  46. Chapter Forty-Two
  47. Chapter Forty-Three
  48. Chapter Forty-Four
  49. Chapter Forty-Five
  50. Chapter Forty-Six
  51. Chapter Forty-Seven
  52. Chapter Forty-Eight
  53. Chapter Forty-Nine
  54. Chapter Fifty
  55. Acknowledgments
  56. Discover More
  57. About the Author

I continued to insist that advancing my career was my only purpose for the trip, but we both knew I was full of it. It was only September, so my dream of lighting the Christmas tree wouldn’t come true, but maybe they’d have some sort of fall festival activities like apple picking or pumpkin carving. And maybe I’d meet a decent guy who wouldn’t stand me up. Perhaps Finn Adams, who hopefully didn’t have children yet. It was probably a silly fantasy, but this trip could change everything.

I promised to keep Kate constantly posted, and we ended the call. As I walked the half a block to Pinkie’s, I daydreamed about my future encounters in Pleasant Hollow. Except when I pictured the townspeople, every male under the age of thirty-five was chiseled and fit but lacked a sexy edge (aside from Finn Adams, who was perfectly edgy), every man older than sixty resembled Santa Claus, and every young woman reminded me of an actress from a favorite childhood television program. Naturally, I blamed Kate’s insistence that I was about to live out a Hallmark romcom.

Chapter Six

Chapter Six

From the outside, Pinkie’s Diner looked like any other stock restaurant in a suburban town. I had psyched myself up for a classic railcar exterior or at least a retro stainless-steel façade. But no.

Not to be deterred, I snapped a few pictures and stepped inside. News of a stranger in a small town tended to spread like wildfire in books and movies. I expected that a customer no one had ever seen before would cause a stir. I figured the other diners would glance my way and wonder out loud who I was. Then they’d usher me inside. “Come in. Come in. Have a seat,” they would say, before collectively pouncing on me to quench their thirst for answers. Best-case scenario, I’d be greeted at the door and offered a slice of pie—a new recipe—on the house.

None of this happened. The patrons of the half-filled diner sipped their Sprites and Diet Cokes and ate their sandwiches while conversing with their tablemates or typing on their phones, entirely unmoved by my presence.

Unsure whether I should wait to be seated, I read the advertisements tacked to a corkboard on the wall. Maybe I’d get lucky and find something about a town meeting to discuss the development plans. A handyman had left his business card. Someone was selling his guitar. Another person was plugging piano lessons. A babysitter was searching for…bzzzz.

I slapped the insect on my palm. “Get off!” Silence filled the room, and all eyes turned to me. Oh, now they noticed me. “Pesky mosquito! I came here to eat, not be eaten.” Recognizing the unintentional sexual innuendo, my chuckle got stuck in my throat. Not the first impression I was going for. “I didn’t mean…”