From New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Jill Shalvis comes a new story in her Heartbreaker Bay seriesβ¦
When the one you want β¦
Daisy doesnβt believe love is ever-lasting, so itβs 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 whoβd taught her that love canβt last.
Is the one you canβt haveβ¦
To say Diego has been taught the hard way to bury emotions is an understatement. But when heβs called home to help the brother he hasnβt seen or spoken to in years, thatβs one thing. Itβs another entirely to also come face to face with the first woman he ever loved. First and onlyβ¦
Can love conquer all?
Daisyβs learned to depend only on herself, and Diego is and always has been an island of one. And yet when theyβre together, even when theyβre bickering, still wary and haunted by memories of what was β¦ itβs magic. The question is, how to find their way back to each otherβ¦?
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.
Sheβd 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, rememberβ¦you are not the sweet, innocent little thing you once were. The one who fell head over heels for that crooked smile. Youβre a grownup, a professional, and you donβt need no stinkinβ manβ
He knocked again, and she jumped a little. What is he doing here? Heβd made it clear earlier what sheβd already known, that he hadnβt missed her, probably hadnβt given her a single thought in all these years.
It rankled that she couldnβt say the same, though it wasnβt from lack of trying. Sheβd done her best to get over him, but heβd been soul-deep. And that was hard to exhume.
His voice came again, surprisingly low, but she could hear him clearly enough. βDaisy, I know youβre in there. I can smell the wheels burning.β
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. βYeah, trust me, Iβm not thrilled either,β he said. βWhat was that crack about me putting you second?β
βWhy do you care?β
Looking surprised, he opened his mouth but then shut it again with a small shake of his head as if he couldnβt process her question. Instead of answering, he brushed past her to enter.
βGee,β she said dryly. βCome on in.β
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 didnβt 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 heβd 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 sheβd managed to learn some things. Such as when she left for New York to take her scholarship, heβd stayed here in San Francisco, taking care of his dad after his debilitating stroke and running The Canvas Shop. After his dadβs death, Diego had left for San Diego, and as far as she could tell, heβd not been back since.
Until now.
βI care,β Diego said, startling her.
βHuh.β She nodded. βYouβve got a funny way of showing it.β
He stood still, watching her, his energy deceptively relaxed. Because he wasnβt. Relaxed. Itβd been nearly a decade since sheβd been wrapped around that gorgeous body, but she still knew it almost better than she knew her own.
βI thought we should talk,β he said.
βOkay, and hereβs what I think,β she said carefully. βOne, youβre the best man of your brotherβs wedding. Two, Iβm the wedding planner. Three, weβre doing this for Rocco. And none of those things are going to change, correct?β
He nodded curtly.
βSo then, we have no choice,β she said. βWe have to get through this. I suggest we make a pact.β
βA pact.β
βYes,β she said.
His eyes darkened, and just like that, she was thrown back in time to the way theyβd been. Young. Sweet. Ridiculously in love. And competitive as hell. Theyβd 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 toastβ¦ Each bet had come with a prizeβwinnerβs choice, of course. And since neither ever had a cent to their name, the bounty had almost always been sexual.
Sheβd often counted on it.
The memories in his gaze had her swallowing hard. βThe pact is we avoid each other whenever possible,β she said.
Now, he looked amused. βHow do you suggest we do that when weβre going to be in the same room more often than not?β
βWe both know there are ways to avoid someone even if theyβre standing right next to you.β
This got her another long look from him, and she lifted her chin. βI suggest we start right now.β
When he didnβt respond to that, she picked up her glass of wine and drank it all. Liquid courage and all that. βIβm going to take your silence as agreement.β She set down the now-empty glass. βSo, letβs call this happy reunion over and done so you can let me get back to my life.β
On Instagram
vilmairisblog
π»: marketing director at @dell
βοΈ: books + beauty + style + life
π¬: @sugarrushcharms - Next drop π soon!
ππ»: Read my blog + shop my IG + charms