From New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Jill Shalvis comes a new story in her Heartbreaker Bay seriesโฆ
When the one you want โฆ
Daisy doesnโt believe love is ever-lasting, so itโs ironic as hell that she parlayed a business degree into a wedding planning business. More ironic still is her latest job bringing her back into contact with the man whoโd taught her that love canโt last.
Is the one you canโt haveโฆ
To say Diego has been taught the hard way to bury emotions is an understatement. But when heโs called home to help the brother he hasnโt seen or spoken to in years, thatโs one thing. Itโs another entirely to also come face to face with the first woman he ever loved. First and onlyโฆ
Can love conquer all?
Daisyโs learned to depend only on herself, and Diego is and always has been an island of one. And yet when theyโre together, even when theyโre bickering, still wary and haunted by memories of what was โฆ itโs magic. The question is, how to find their way back to each otherโฆ?
From New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Jill Shalvis comes a new story in her Heartbreaker Bay series and I’m thrilled to share a sneak peek from the novel, out this Tuesday!
Some days required more self-care than others.
Sheโd just gotten comfy when a knock came at her door. Damn. Setting aside the carton of rocky road, she got up, leaned into the peephole and stilled. Oh shit.
Diego.
She stepped back and had a pep-talk with herself. Okay, rememberโฆyou are not the sweet, innocent little thing you once were. The one who fell head over heels for that crooked smile. Youโre a grownup, a professional, and you donโt need no stinkinโ manโ
He knocked again, and she jumped a little. What is he doing here? Heโd made it clear earlier what sheโd already known, that he hadnโt missed her, probably hadnโt given her a single thought in all these years.
It rankled that she couldnโt say the same, though it wasnโt from lack of trying. Sheโd done her best to get over him, but heโd been soul-deep. And that was hard to exhume.
His voice came again, surprisingly low, but she could hear him clearly enough. โDaisy, I know youโre in there. I can smell the wheels burning.โ
Rolling her eyes at both of them, she opened the door to find him standing there, hands resting above him on the doorjamb, filling the space with that big, tough body that had once upon a time made hers sing the hallelujah chorus.
He lifted his head, his eyes meeting hers. โYeah, trust me, Iโm not thrilled either,โ he said. โWhat was that crack about me putting you second?โ
โWhy do you care?โ
Looking surprised, he opened his mouth but then shut it again with a small shake of his head as if he couldnโt process her question. Instead of answering, he brushed past her to enter.
โGee,โ she said dryly. โCome on in.โ
He looked around the small but cozy apartment she loved because it was home in a way no other place had ever been. She could tell that he didnโt miss anything, including the fact that her TV was paused on Netflix, there was a gallon of ice cream sitting open on the coffee table with a wooden spoon sticking out of it, and a slightly embarrassingly large glass of wine sat nearby. He turned to face her.
Yes, she knew what heโd been up to. Her stalking skills were even better than her event planning skills, and she prided herself on being the best at that. He had an Instagram account that he was annoyingly stingy about posting on, but sheโd managed to learn some things. Such as when she left for New York to take her scholarship, heโd stayed here in San Francisco, taking care of his dad after his debilitating stroke and running The Canvas Shop. After his dadโs death, Diego had left for San Diego, and as far as she could tell, heโd not been back since.
Until now.
โI care,โ Diego said, startling her.
โHuh.โ She nodded. โYouโve got a funny way of showing it.โ
He stood still, watching her, his energy deceptively relaxed. Because he wasnโt. Relaxed. Itโd been nearly a decade since sheโd been wrapped around that gorgeous body, but she still knew it almost better than she knew her own.
โI thought we should talk,โ he said.
โOkay, and hereโs what I think,โ she said carefully. โOne, youโre the best man of your brotherโs wedding. Two, Iโm the wedding planner. Three, weโre doing this for Rocco. And none of those things are going to change, correct?โ
He nodded curtly.
โSo then, we have no choice,โ she said. โWe have to get through this. I suggest we make a pact.โ
โA pact.โ
โYes,โ she said.
His eyes darkened, and just like that, she was thrown back in time to the way theyโd been. Young. Sweet. Ridiculously in love. And competitive as hell. Theyโd made a lot of pacts in those days. Actually, more like dares. Who could outrun the other to the pier and back. Who could get their homework done the fastest. Who could make better cinnamon and sugar toastโฆ Each bet had come with a prizeโwinnerโs choice, of course. And since neither ever had a cent to their name, the bounty had almost always been sexual.
Sheโd often counted on it.
The memories in his gaze had her swallowing hard. โThe pact is we avoid each other whenever possible,โ she said.
Now, he looked amused. โHow do you suggest we do that when weโre going to be in the same room more often than not?โ
โWe both know there are ways to avoid someone even if theyโre standing right next to you.โ
This got her another long look from him, and she lifted her chin. โI suggest we start right now.โ
When he didnโt respond to that, she picked up her glass of wine and drank it all. Liquid courage and all that. โIโm going to take your silence as agreement.โ She set down the now-empty glass. โSo, letโs call this happy reunion over and done so you can let me get back to my life.โ