Only in the movies does the Hollywood heartthrob fall for the small town diner waitress.
So when Dashiel Buckley returns to Cherry Tree Harbor for a wedding, I’m determined not to let my massive crush on my best friend’s older brother hijack my good sense.
(It happened once before. Do not recommend.)
But when my hand is injured, it’s Dash who steps in at the diner. The moment he realizes I can’t afford to fix my car, he takes care of it. And when he hears about the way my toxic ex treated me, he refuses to let it go.
Now it’s not just his blue eyes and sexy smile that have me swooning, it’s the way he wants to help me. Encourage me. Protect me.
I can’t resist.
Our text messages heat up. Our phone calls melt all my defenses. “Just friends” turns into “just once,” and “just once” becomes a distant memory. Night after night, he warms my bed, my body, and my heart.
But it can’t last.
Our dreams have us on two different paths–Dash wants the lights, camera, action of Hollywood, and I’ll always be a small town girl.
If only I could be his.
Release date:
March 4, 2024
Print pages:
376
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Of all the nights I’d imagined us driving off somewhere together, never once was it the emergency room.
“How’s the pain?” he asked, speeding away from Buckley’s Pub.
“Not too bad,” I lied.
“I’m sorry, Ari. It’s my fault.”
I stared at him. “I cut my finger slicing lemons. Why would it be your fault?”
“I was making jokes and distracting you while you were trying to work.” He actually sounded sincere.
“It was an accident, Dash. I wasn’t being careful enough.”
He pressed his lips together, saying nothing. His profile was chiseled perfection, making my heart throb as hard as my finger.
When we arrived at the closest hospital, Dash dropped me off at the emergency room doors and told me he’d meet me inside after parking the car.
“You don’t have to stay,” I told him.
“I’ll be right in.”
I was sitting in the waiting room, listening for my name to be called, when he appeared in the doorway. My heart skittered at the sight of him scanning the room, looking for me with that concerned expression on his face. He’d ditched the ball cap, and his hair was slightly disheveled, as if he’d just run his fingers through it.
When he spotted me, he came over and sat down in the chair next to mine.
“You don’t have to stay,” I told him again.
“Are you going to keep saying that, hoping I leave?”
“Maybe.”
He leaned back, crossing an ankle over one knee, arms folded over his chest. “Well, I’m not leaving. Do you want me to call someone? Your parents?”
I shook my head. “They’re out of town for ten days. Anniversary cruise.”
“Boyfriend?”
“No boyfriend,” I said, staring at my sneakers.
“Good.”
I risked eye contact.
He shrugged, his mouth curving up on one side in a sexy crooked grin. “Might have been awkward to call him, since you saw me naked today.”
I looked at my feet again.
“So have you recovered from the trauma of that experience?”
“I’m pretending it didn’t happen.”
“Oh. Cool. We’re good at that.”
“Good at what?”
“Pretending things didn’t happen.”
I sniffed. Raised my chin. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
He laughed softly. “Oh, is that the game we’re playing?”
“You were the one who said we should forget it ever happened.” I lifted my shoulders. “And I have.”
“So the frosty treatment over the last eight years is because of something else?”
I finally looked at him. “I haven’t been frosty to you. I’ve barely seen you.”
“You’ve barely looked at me,” he corrected. “We’ve been in the same room plenty of times since then, and I’ve never been able to get you to talk to me. The last words I heard out of your mouth were ‘I hate you.’”
I dropped my eyes to my towel-wrapped hand. “I don’t hate you. I was just embarrassed.”
“Still? After eight years?”
“You rejected me, Dash. Maybe you don’t remember what it’s like to be sixteen, but I do. Feelings are big. I know it’s not your fault that you didn’t feel the same way, but I can’t help it that I wasn’t okay for a while after you turned me down.”
His voice grew softer. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, but I didn’t think it would be right to . . . do that.” He nudged my foot with his. “So can we be friends now?”
“Friends?” I feigned shock. “A big Hollywood celebrity like you wants a nobody friend like me?”
“You’re somebody to me, Ari. You always will be.”
A warm feeling engulfed me, flooding my limbs, pooling in my belly. Attention from him always did this to me. “Then I guess we can be friends. But you have to promise never to bring up that night again.”
“Deal.”
“Ariana DeLuca?” called a nurse.
I rose to my feet, and Dash stood too. “Do you want me to come back with you?” he asked.
It was on the tip of my tongue to say no, but then I thought about needles again. “Would you?”
“Of course.” He put his hand on my lower back and walked me toward the nurse. “I was coming no matter what you said.”...
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