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Dedication

To all those who defy expectations.

Be who you are, not who they tell you to be.

And to Joe, my perfect nest.

Author’s Note

Dear Reader,

Though the story you’re about to read is a feel-good contemporary romance, it features realistic, wounded characters and sensitive subject matter that may upset some readers. If you’d rather not know any spoilers, ignore the next paragraph and skip to chapter one with my thanks for reading.

For those who prefer to know, this book deals with the following difficult topics: on page descriptions of a car accident (no deaths) and injuries as a direct result; on page descriptions of emergency medical procedures; discussions of infertility (directly related to main character); discussions about pregnancy, pregnancy loss, grief, abandonment, an absentee parent, manic-depressive/bipolar disorder, and mental health representation. There are mentions of divorce. There is profanity and moderate sexual content.

Please know that I did my best to handle these topics with respect and sensitivity. Thank you for reading.

1. Grady

CHAPTER ONE

Grady

My truck hugs the curves along Lakeview Avenue, bringing me closer to the sanctity of my log cabin, where I’ll spend the next forty-eight hours sleeping, fishing, and talking to no one but my dogs. I long for the quiet and feel it penetrating me already. The light between the trees hits my eyes like tiny starbursts, its heat collecting through the windshield. The snake-like road surrounding Seagrove Lake is usually fun to drive, especially under clear skies and a playful sun.

Not today. I need to get home.

It’s Friday, early afternoon, and the roads are subdued, with most people at work. I should be at work. But the compromise I reached with my aunt and office manager, Elena, after our staff complained about our long days is every other Friday off.

“When you overwork, we all overwork,” she argued. “Every other Friday is the least you can do.”

My phone alights on its dashboard perch.

Can you pick up a bakery order from Sunny’s Beach Market & deliver it to Zoe’s class by 2:30? 24 Valentine’s cupcakes. Please, Grady. It’s an emergency.

I huff, watching the ellipsis wave under her text.

You’re off today, right?

Reasons to refuse Mom’s “emergency” bombard me, starting with the fact that I’ve been up for thirty-some hours and spent last night in a barn two counties over delivering a breech colt—a stillborn colt—leaving me in no mood for family errands.