Novelist Juniper Blossom has romance down to a science in her bestselling books. But she’s not about to settle for just any man—a happy ending looks different for everyone, and she needs to find the guy who’s idea of forever matches her own. Try telling that to her adorable, meddling grandmothers though. If she doesn’t find a man soon, they’re going to find one for her. And that’s why Juniper has prepared for a trip home to Ever After by fibbing that her sexy, smart, sweet best friend Tomas is her fiancé! He doesn’t believe in love at all, but that doesn’t matter if they’re just pretending… Divorce attorney Tomas Rivera is as proud of Juniper’s authorial success as she is, but that doesn’t mean he buys into her books’ premise. His career is proof enough that true love is the real fairy tale—and everyone knows fairy tales aren’t real. But he can never say no to gorgeous Juniper, and an “engagement” might move him one legal brief closer to partner at his old-fashioned firm. Yet playing the part suddenly starts to mean feeling it, especially when a kiss just for show turns up the heat between them. Is happily ever after possible for two people who aren’t on the same page when it comes to love?
Release date:
December 28, 2021
Publisher:
Zebra Books
Print pages:
311
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After ending the call with her grandmothers, Juniper sank back into the overstuffed leather couch that sat just outside the changing room of the Elegant Gentleman and looked up at her best friend, Tomas Rivera.
Engaged. Grammas Petty, Bon-Bon, and Jonquil were obsessed, and somehow, they’d maneuvered her into a fine pickle.
She cocked her head to the side and tried to imagine being engaged, married, or—hell—even dating her longtime pal. They’d been friends for so long, Juniper had forgotten which one of them was the bad influence.
Him, probably.
No, her.
Eh, she’d have to say it was a tie. When misadventures were on the menu, both of them ordered more than either of them could chew.
But they had some really great stories. Her favorite one started with, “One time, in Vienna . . .” when they’d gone backpacking the summer before college. She smiled, remembering how she’d been so afraid that trip had been their last hurrah. How their friendship would change. How they’d inevitably grow apart.
Only they hadn’t. Their friendship had only gotten stronger.
Better.
“Does that smile mean you like this one?”
He grinned back at her and showed off one of the suits he was seriously considering for the Hernandez and Williams annual fundraiser for the homeless shelter. This year, they were hoping to add a traveling medical van to their services. Tomas and Juniper were excited to help make that happen.
Tomas had exceptional taste, and the suit looked damn good. It fit him well straight off the rack. He was lucky like that. The cut was exceptional, but the style wasn’t quite right. The affair was a hassle to dress for because it wasn’t a formal event, but business attire didn’t quite fit the bill, either.
“Of course, it looks amazing,” she began.
“But, you don’t like it for the fundraiser?” He nodded. “Me either. It’s not quite right.”
“Exactly what I was thinking.”
“That’s why I bring you along.” He started to shrug out of the jacket.
She laughed. “You bring me along because you love me.”
“That too.” The corner of his mouth quirked up into a grin. “So what was up with the grandmothers? Were they trying to set you up again? I swear, those ladies have a one-track mind.”
She pursed her lips and considered. Juniper wondered what sort of bribe would work to get him to play along. “They’ve decided we’re engaged.”
Tomas laughed. “Dios mio, why would they think that?”
“I’m not sure how we got there, honestly. I think it has to do with that promise we made when we were kids.” She nodded. “Yes. I think so.”
“The one where we promised to get married to each other at thirty-four?” He was still laughing.
“Yeah. I mean, it is next year. Gramma Petty said if we’re going to do it, we need to start planning.” She shrugged.
He stopped laughing, a serious look on his face. “She’s right. I mean, I don’t see any other prospects in sight for either one of us. Might as well.”
“Oh, stop.” She rolled her eyes. “As if.”
“As if, what?” He looked over his shoulder to the mirror. “Yeah, still hot. Even though we’re about to be the ancient and decrepit age of thirty-four.”
She flashed a grin in return. “Why did we think that was so old, again?”
“Kids, eh?” He shrugged. “But let me guess? The grandmothers took it seriously? Or they pretended to.”
“They did.”
“And you let them.”
She cringed. “I did. You don’t understand the pressure.”
“Uh, have you met my mother?” He arched a perfectly sculpted black brow.
“Oh. Yes. Right.” She coughed. “But I would totally understand if you told her we were engaged. I’d even play along to get her off your back.”
He snorted. “You’d make me pay for it, though. I’d have to bring you tamales every Friday for the rest of my life.”
“You already do that. So make it Wednesday and Friday.”
“Fair.” He nodded.
“So you’ll do it?”
“What? You’re serious?” He draped the jacket over his arm.
“They won’t stop trying to set me up unless you come with me to visit them for Samhain.” At his blank look, she added, “Halloween?”
“And pretend to be engaged?” If his brow crawled up any higher, it was going to disappear into his hairline.
“It can be a long engagement.”
“It can’t be forever. This is bound to blow up in our faces.” He shook his head.
She bit her lip. “I know, but . . .” Juniper knew it was time to pull out the big guns. She always knew how to get her way with Tomas. She widened her brown eyes and knew she looked much like a cocker spaniel. He could never say no to the eyes. Especially when she blinked slowly and pouted, just a little.
“Woman. Stop it.”
She continued to stare and let her mouth turn down at the corners just a bit.
“I am a hardened divorce attorney. Those eyes aren’t going to . . .” He sighed. “Fine, but I have conditions.”
Juniper rewarded him with her best smile.
“Big faker.”
“No, I really would’ve been that sad if you said no.”
“You’re not getting my cooperation for free.”
“I can’t make tamales, so I don’t know what you want from me.” She pursed her lips, confident that she would, in fact, get his cooperation for free.
“First, when we break up, it has to be mutual. I love us both too much.”
A cackle burst from her. “You’re so right. I definitely do not want to be on the wrong side of Mama Estella. And you don’t want to be on the wrong side of my mother, or my grandmothers. Gramma Petty got that nickname for a reason.” She nodded slowly. “Oh, definitely. It has to be amicable.”
He nodded, his face serious. “I’m glad we’re agreed. But you know, if we’re not careful, both of our families will have us trotting down the aisle like a couple of breeding show ponies.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Eww. Why would you say it that way? That’s disgusting.”
“I know!” His tone indicated he obviously thought there was nothing worse.
Juniper knew Tomas was anti-commitment, but she didn’t realize he was that bitter. “Do you really feel that way about marriage?”
“I . . .” He looked around to make sure they were alone. “I’m a divorce attorney.”
“I know. Obviously. I held your hand through law school and helped you study. I brought you Thai food after you passed the bar. This is not a surprise.”
“Then my feelings on marriage shouldn’t be a surprise.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on. Pessimism is boring.”
He reached out and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “That’s what I love about you. No matter what, you still believe. You believe enough for both of us.”
“Speaking of, I just got my author copies of Thunderbird!” She rummaged in her bag and pulled out her newest release.
He reached for it, but she held it back.
“I don’t know, Tomas. If you don’t believe, you might not be worthy of a copy. It is a romance novel, after all.”
“You already made me wait. I will not bring tamales Friday if you don’t give me that book right now.”
Juniper held it up. “This book? This romance novel, with love, and of all the horrible things, a Happily Ever After? Is this the book you want, Big Bad Divorce Attorney?”
He narrowed his eyes. “I read spy novels, too. That doesn’t mean I’m going to go out and hunt for Red October.”
Juniper loved that he read her books. He’d been reading her stories since she first put her fingers on a keyboard and banged out an awful, teen-angst ridden agony aunt “romance” where everyone died at the end. And then became vampires. And then got staked. And came back as ghosts. And then they were reincarnated. And then . . . Yes, it was a wreck, but she’d been hooked.
So had he.
“Oh fine, I suppose.” She let him take the book from her hands.
He opened to the front page where the dedication remained mostly the same from book to book.
For Tomas, who believed.
Juniper had thought he’d be used to it by now, after seventeen books. Only his reaction never changed. His face beamed with pride and he pulled her up into a tight hug.
“I still can’t get over seeing my name there. I’m so proud of you.” He kissed both of her cheeks and then slid the book carefully into his briefcase. “I can’t wait to find out what happens to Cordelia and Daniel.” He cast a glance back at her face. “You know you were wrong for how you left it at the end of Sphinx.”
She cackled and couldn’t help thinking she sounded a bit like Gramma Petty.
“Ha!” he exclaimed. “I knew it. You just like to torture us.”
“Honestly, I love that you’re so invested. It means you love them as much as I do. I can’t describe how that feels.”
“You’re still not getting out of owing me a favor for this fake fiancé nonsense.”
“As if I would. But really, you should be grateful. They’re not above trying to set you up with someone, too.”
He held up his index finger. “Ah, but you see, they’re not my grandmothers. I don’t have to go visit them.”
“Do you really think they’d let that stop them? They’d just call your mother. Then where would you be?”
“Damn.”
“Uh-huh.” She pursed her lips. “But I’m feeling generous, so what do you want?”
“You have to be my date to the fundraiser—”
She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off.
“And you have to wear a dress.”
“Fine, I’ll wear a dress, but I’m not doing heels.”
He narrowed his eyes. “That was surprisingly easy. What aren’t you telling me?”
“There’s a masquerade ball in Ever After on Samhain and we have to go.”
“Ever After? Oh for . . . I forgot your grandmothers lived in that weird little town. How sober do I have to be?”
She considered. “Eighty-twenty?”
“I’m not going to make it.” He gave an overdramatic sigh.
“Have you been watching those soaps with Mama Estella again?”
A guilty look flashed across his face. “She had them on when I was fixing her sink.”
Juniper laughed. “How dare you start a new show without me.”
“Mama will be happy to catch you up, I’m sure.”
“Listen, maybe when we get to Ever After, you shouldn’t tell people details about your job. It might be kind of a downer,” she teased.
“You think?” he snorted. “Far be it from me to bring the real world to fairy-tale land.”
“You know how I feel about that description.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“I . . .” He gestured helplessly.
“Either sum it up in your own words, or I’m going to make you listen to my dissertation on assholes and fairy tales.”
“Fine.” He rolled his eyes. “I don’t know why I do these things for you. You’re absolutely ridiculous.”
“I am. And you love me anyway. So. Let’s have it.”
“I will not refer to things I find unbelievable as fairy tales,” he grumbled.
“Why not?”
“Fairy tales are stories about perseverance and hope.”
“And?” she prompted.
“And only assholes shit on other people’s hope. I’m not an asshole.”
“See? That wasn’t too painful.”
“It was a little painful, but definitely not as bad as listening to you recite your talking points for an hour and a half.”
“That only happened once.” She bit her lip. “I was . . . miffed.”
“Miffed?” He shook his head. “I still think you’d have been a great lawyer.”
“I think there’s only room for one legal beagle in this relationship.”
“A beagle? That’s what you think of me? I’m a Malinois. Smart, efficient, highly trained, and a force to be reckoned with.”
She snorted. “Legal Malinois doesn’t really have the same mouthfeel, my friend. Mangy Malinois, maybe?”
“That’s it. No tamales for you.”
“Let’s not be hasty.” She leaned forward to grab his hand.
“No, that’s a bridge too far. And you burned it down. I’m done with you,” he teased.
“You’re a brilliant barrister. I’ve got it! My next novel! The Bloody Brilliant Barrister, featuring handsome Latino heartthrob Tomas Rivera. Killer of Hearts, and Bringer of Delicious Tamales.”
He nodded as he considered. “I suppose that’s a little better. Keep going.”
“No, that’s all you get.”
“Come on. I did the thing you like. It’s your turn. A man needs to be told he’s handsome as often as a woman needs to be told she’s beautiful. Make with the compliments. The one about my jaw.” He motioned for her to start.
“You’re insufferable. I never should’ve started this. Try to make my friend feel better after a nasty breakup and this is the thanks I get.” From her tone, it was obvious she didn’t mean a word of it. She was happy to remind Tomas at any time of all of his good qualities.
“But you love me.”
“I suppose.”
“And my jaw.”
She snorted. “Fine. You have a jaw like a rotten jack-o-lantern—no, that’s not the one?”
Juniper could tell by the expression on his face that he wasn’t amused. She rubbed her hands together and cracked her knuckles. “Okay, I’ll give you a good one. You did indulge me with the fairy-tale thing.”
She studied his face for a long moment and for the first time since college, she considered how she’d describe him if he were a character in one of her books. When they were in school, he’d had a definite edge to his jaw that was sharp, defined, and at one time, she’d said it had an edge like an anvil. It still did. That hadn’t changed. Only, back then, there’d still been a softness to his face, a remnant of the boy he’d been.
He was one hundred percent man now. With all the hard edges that brought with it, although she wasn’t going to tell him that.
Juniper continued to stare at him, and for the first time, it really hit her that he could be one of the guys she wrote about.
Not for her, of course; they were just friends.
Except he had every single quality she’d write into a hero.
He was hot as sin, kind, generous, thoughtful, honest. He did things to make her happy without caring how it might look to other people. Reciting her policy on fairy tales was ridiculous, but he did it because she wanted him to.
He was pretending to be her fiancé to make her grandmothers happy. For all the walls he’d erected to keep himself safe, he had a huge heart.
Juniper was overwhelmed by emotion.
How would she put that on the page?
“Tomas Rivera was a beautiful man”—she held up her hand when his belly laugh would’ve interrupted her—“his jaw was made of iron, and his cheekbones were like sharp blades. The softness of his long lashes against those stern angles seemed like an incongruity, but they framed his most powerful weapon of all. Eyes that could see through any shield, down through flesh and bone to the very marrow. Eyes that could pull you down into the darkness and make you forget you’re afraid of drowning.”
Tomas stopped laughing. He looked like he’d been slapped. “Whoa, really?”
“You asked for it. You got it.”
“I suppose that’ll have to keep me stocked for a while,” he said in a dazed tone.
“You suppose? Bitch, that was fantastic.”
He laughed again. “Yeah, it was. I wasn’t dropping shade on your lovely gift. It was just . . .” He shrugged. “It was really good.”
Maybe she had taken it a little too far. She’d gotten caught up in the moment, and while she did feel those things, Juniper realized they might’ve sounded more intense and implied a deeper meaning she hadn’t intended.
Then she shook the thought off. They’d been friends for too long to worry about every little word they said to each other. Her brain was being slightly stupid because she’d just realized that he was more than her Tomas.
She knew that, logically, but it had just been driven home with a hammer that he was a man. Not just male, because obviously. But a man. The kind of man she wrote about. It had changed her perspective for a moment. She wasn’t sure she liked seeing him with new eyes. Juniper knew he was a good man, but she didn’t have those feelings for him, and she didn’t want to have them. Things were perfect as they were.
“Of course it was really good.” She lifted her chin. “I’m a professional.”
“Are you now?”
“We do not have time for that. We still have to find your suit, and if you don’t take me to lunch soon, this is not going to end well.”
“Okay, I have one more option. I saved the best for last. I think this is the one.”
“You should’ve tried that one first.”
“I still had to try this one.” He motioned to the suit he wore. “I’m going to buy it. A man can never have too many suits.”
She nodded in agreement.
“Oh, and while you wait, there are cola gummies in your bag.” He winked at her.
Juniper tore into the bag and stuffed a couple in her mouth while he went back inside the dressing room to change.
Now that her stomach wasn’t trying to eat her from the inside out, she felt much better.
When he came out again, she knew why he’d been saving it for last. It was absolutely perfect. The material was obviously silk, but the color was almost an iridescent ocean blue. The contrast against the warm color of his skin and his jet-black hair was striking.
Her eyes were drawn to the jaw that she’d been asked to describe, down to the way the suit jacket framed his shoulders. She tore her gaze away. She needed to turn off romance-novel brain. Now was definitely not the time.
“Wow. Yes. That one. That one for every event you go to for the next five years.”
“You think it’ll work for the masquerade?”
“Well, I suppose, if you decide to go as a hot lawyer?”
“I’m always a hot lawyer. I should probably shake it up.”
“But you’re definitely buying that one, right?”
“Obviously. With the purple pocket square?” He held it up.
“Obviously.”
“Good. Bow tie, I think.”
She nodded.
“Since we’re pretending to be a couple, I think your dress should match my pocket square. We’ll be that couple. You know the one.” He smirked. “Oh, on second thought, this fake fiancé thing is going to be fun.”
Juniper was absolutely convinced that hijinks were about to ensue.
But not before lunch. She refused to get into trouble on an empty stomach.
Tomas Rivera was supposed to be prepping for a meeting with a client, but instead, he was looking at the picture of his best friend that sat on his desk.
Most people thought she was his wife or his girlfriend because of the prominent placement of her picture. They always seemed strangely sad and disappointed when he corrected them. He couldn’t figure out why, when his clients were going through what was an oftentimes ugly divorce, they wanted him to be married. It didn’t make any sense. Although, he supposed misery loved company.
A cold flash of guilt washed down his spine.
If Juniper could hear his thoughts, she’d be exceptionally hurt and disappointed.
Her smiling face looking at him on his desk reminded him to have hope. To be kind. It reminded him that some kinds of love were real. Romantic love was practically a fetish, and he hated how it was so idolized. If people were more reasonable about their expectations and understood that what people thought was all-consuming passionate love was simply a biological imperative, a hormonal trick, everyone would be better off. But the love for friends and family? Now, that was something he knew to be true. It had been proven to him time and time again.
He knew Juniper would do anything for him.
And apparently, he’d do anything for her.
Even pretend to be engaged.
He picked up her picture and smoothed his thumb over the edge of her likeness. Tomas supposed if he ever did actually get married, it would be Juniper. He couldn’t imagine life without her, and it was always there at the back of his mind. That someday, he would lose her. He wouldn’t be the most important man in her life any longer.
She’d meet someone.
She’d fall hard.
And she wouldn’t be his Juniper any longer. Not like she was now.
He remembered when they first met. They’d been six. His mother had brought him to the park to play in the sandbox. Only, there hadn’t been any sand. Just mud. A girl with dark pigtails had plopped down in the mud next to him, and they’d not been able to build anything so grand as a castle, so they called their mud mess a fort and that moment had been the beginning. They’d been inseparable.
Tomas clearly remembered the first time they’d made the promise to get married at thirty-four if they didn’t marry anyone else.
The first time had been at his tenth birthday party. One of his cousins had been teasing him because his best friend was a girl. Carlos said that Tomas might as well marry her. Juniper had told him with all the conviction in her little heart that she was going to marry Tomas. They’d do it when they were thirty-four because that’s when she’d have all of her big teeth and a white dress.
The second time had been when he was sixteen. She’d broken up with her first serious boyfriend. She said she would never trust another boy with her heart. Except for Tomas. He’d reminded her that her relationship was doomed to fail anyway because she had to marry him when she had her grown-up teeth and a white dress.
The third time had been a bit more complicated. He’d been twenty-six, and it had been at Carlos’s wedding. They’d been doing shots and dancing all night. The event had been full of good food, laughter, family . . . As the evening had wound down, they were both drunk and lying in the grass by the country club pool, holding hands and looking up at the spinning stars.
The stars had definitely been spinning.
Like a damn disco ball.
Carlos had yelled that Tomas should kiss her.
Tomas still remembered the hazy formation of what would’ve been the worst decision of his life. He’d propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at her, lying there in her breezy summer dress, hair spread in the grass, her lips pink and inviting, and he’d thought, Yeah, I should.
He’d started to lean down toward her face.
She’d wrapped her arms around his shoulders and she’d said, “Look at you, getting ideas just because I’ve got my big-girl teeth and white dress. We’re not thirty-four yet.”
He’d realized then what a terrible mistake it would’ve been. Tomas would’ve ruined the one thing, apart from his mother and her side of the family, that was steady in his life.
So instead, he’d kissed her forehead, and tried not to notice how good it felt to have her in his arms. Or the sultry look in her eyes. Or, Dios mio, when her hand had come up to cup his cheek. It had taken him months to stop thinking about that moment. How much his body wanted something more, and how it had almost tricked his mind into believing in a mirage.
The memory of it had come slamming back into him in wave after wave as she’d described him as if he’d been a character in one of her books.
He definitely had to push that to the far reaches of his mind.
He didn’t know what they’d thought was so magical or important about thirty-four. He decided that maybe when they called this sham of an engagement off, he could tell their respective families that they’d raised the marriage age to eighty.
Romantic love never lasted. As evidenced by the fact that the marriage of his cousin whose wedding had almost inspired the worst mistake of his life had ended in divorce this last year.
He’d meant it when he said that he admired her for being able to look at the world around her, see the way people treated each other, and still believe. Still have hope.
His Juniper was magic that way.
A knock sounded on his door, interrupting his thoughts.
“Mr. Rivera? Your two o’clock is here,” his assistant, Jocelyn, said.
He scrubbed a hand over. . .
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