Jennifer Peel
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 Copyright
Copyright © 2022 by Jennifer Peel
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are
the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance
to actual events, business establishments, locales, or persons living or dead, is
entirely coincidental.
 
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Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Epilogue

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 Dedication
To “Stanley”: I can’t wait to meet you.

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 Prologue
I gripped the door handle of the rental car and stared
out the windshield into the blinding snow, listening to the
frantic motion of the windshield wipers fighting a losing
battle. The thought crossed my mind that this little joyride
wasn’t the brightest idea I’d ever had. In fact, it might
possibly rank right up there with the time I decided to try
fake eyelashes before the homecoming dance my
sophomore year in college and ended up gluing my eye
shut. That bad idea resulted in a trip to the emergency room
instead of dancing the night away with the gorgeous frat
boy who had asked me out. Come to think of it, all my poor
choices usually involved a guy. Case in point: I glanced over
at Drake Foster, world’s sexiest man alive, a.k.a. my boss,
white-knuckling the steering wheel as he drove us straight
into a blizzard over a mountain pass.
A list of all the poor decisions I had made leading me to
this semi-terrifying situation assaulted my overstimulated
brain. Drake’s moody, sensual scent with a hint of spice had
a way of sending my endocrine system into a tizzy. Like all
the hormones and glands in my body were talking to each
other—some screaming like my great-grandfather who only
knew how to speak French. You have never been properly
yelled at unless it’s in French. Man, do I miss Grandpa Julien.
I could really use a good yelling at for my latest poor
decision.
 You see, my boss—or SMA as I called him, at least in
private when I talked to my sister, Isabelle, who to her credit
had tried to talk me out of this latest round of poor choices
—had just wrapped up filming his latest action movie in
Jackson Hole, Wyoming, of all places. We were supposed to
fly back to LA but a freak snowstorm the first week of
October appeared, closing the airport. I say appeared, when
it was really more like the ushering in of the apocalypse, but
instead of fire, we were going to be consumed by tiny ice
crystals. Drake was already peeved that filming had gone
two weeks past the original wrap-up date. He had an
important meeting with Giorgio Smith (I still couldn’t figure
out the fancy first name paired with the plainest last name
of all time), the hottest director in Hollywood. And come hell
or high water, he was going to make it. More like hell had
come and it was literally freezing over.
“We can drive to Idaho and take a private plane from
there,” Drake had said just hours ago.
“Uh, I think I’ll wait this one out.” That was a totally
smart reply. Like, genius. Unfortunately, my glands and
hormones started yelling at each other again. This is where
my first poor choice occurred in this whole fiasco. Well .  .  .
unless you count three years ago when I took this job,
knowing full well I was going to fall head over heels for the
debonair Drake Foster, despite his reputation as one of
Hollywood’s biggest playboys. But that’s another story.
Drake had drawn closer and given me his signature
dampened smile with pressed lips. The one that said, Not
only am I in total control of every emotion I own, but I’ll
control yours too, and once I’ve accomplished that, I’ll take
your heart and soul just for the fun of it. “Come on,
Charlotte,” he’d whispered, “I can barely tie my shoes
without you. You have to come back with me.”
That was a lie. He was totally capable, but I longed to
believe that he needed me, so I went with it. Yes, it was a
big mistake.
The next poor choice was looking into his sea-green
eyes shrouded in the thickest, darkest eyelashes in the
history of all human existence. Those hypnotic beauties set
off an entire chain reaction in my endocrine system. My
hormones started chanting things that would make my
mother blush. Next, he scrubbed a hand over his scruffy,
carved-to-perfection jawline, which he darn well knew I was
a sucker for, to remind me he was no mere mortal. If that
wasn’t enough, his sneaky hand ran up through his tousled
sandy-brown hair that curled perfectly above his ears. Oh,
the curls—they were to die for. And judging by this blizzard,
I might very well die for them.
He’d sealed my fate when he leaned in and whispered in
my ear, “I’ll keep you safe.” Then he’d kissed my cheek. His
lips on my skin sent my glands into overdrive. Hence, I
found myself in a rented SUV, crawling behind a semi, in the
dark, in the worst snowstorm I had ever experienced,
praying I would live long enough for my sister, who I
affectionately called Izzy, to yell at me for getting into the
freaking car before telling me to quit for the hundredth time.
For some reason she didn’t think it was emotionally healthy
for me to work for the object of my desire while he dated
every single one of his leading ladies. And in between those
relationships, he was known to rekindle with Marissa Petra,
his on-again, off-again girlfriend and the sexiest woman
alive, or as I liked to call her, SOS—Sister of Satan. I was
sure she was plotting to kill her brother and take over the
realms of hell.
The car slid a little, bringing me back to my frightening
reality. It also made me squeal like a piglet—okay, make
that a big mama sow.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got this under control,” Drake said,
harried, not giving me much confidence.
“You really know how to drive in the snow? In the
mountains?” I probably should have verified this sooner.
“I grew up on a farm in Idaho, actually,” he mumbled, as
if that embarrassed him.
“Really? I thought you grew up in Seattle.” That’s what
his bio said, and he loved to extol the wonders of the
Emerald City.
“I moved there with my mom when I was seventeen,
after my parents got divorced.”
“That must have been hard.” I knew it was, as he rarely
talked about his family, except for his brother, Jameson—
well, technically his half-brother, but Drake always said
there was nothing half about their relationship, so he never
referred to him that way—who passed away only last year. I
had been fortunate enough to meet him a few times. Those
had been some rough weeks. Weeks of just Drake and I
holed up in his mansion eating junk food while I listened to
him tell stories about the older brother he idolized. The man
who put him through school and was his first manager. I
never said much, just listened and wrapped my arms around
him when he needed it.
He shrugged. “It was for the best.”
“Are you sure?”
His tone wasn’t giving me I’ve-made-peace-with-it vibes.
“I know what you’re doing,” he sighed. “You’re trying to
work your magic on me, and I won’t have it.”
I tilted my head. “What magic is that?”
“The one where I allow you into my head and you make
me feel human and vulnerable.”
I bit my lip. “You feel vulnerable around me?” This was
possibly the best news ever.
The corners of his lips lifted as if he might really smile
and show the sparkly white teeth he religiously brushed four
times a day. “I feel more than I should around you.”
There went my endocrine system again. Throw in my
reproductive system while we’re at it. At twenty-nine, my
body was giving me hints that I might want to start thinking
about procreation. And let me tell you, Drake’s genes would
do a body good.
“Would you like to name those feelings?” I asked, way
too breathily.
It was another big fat mistake, but he had been awfully
flirty with me in Wyoming, and he never did ask out Simone
Hawthorne, the film’s leading lady. My heart was swelling
with hope, or maybe indigestion. Traipsing through this
winter wonderhell wasn’t giving me any warm and fuzzy
feelings.
“Charlotte,” he crooned my name, making me feel all
sorts of swoony and toasty warm. “Please don’t tempt me. I
have done very few things right in my life, and you are the
last person I want to do wrong by.”
“Oh.” I adjusted my knitted beanie, wishing I could pull
it over my entire head. I was such an idiot. I knew that was
his way of letting me down easy. I was his perky, cute
assistant. Everywhere we went people would say, “Oh, that
Charlotte, she’s just so perky and cute. Even her last name
is adorable: Valentine.” I can’t tell you how many times I
had been patted on the head like I was a puppy. Not sure if
it was my big blue eyes, or the messy buns I always wore, or
perhaps it was my small frame, usually dressed in overalls.
All I know is I am no Hollywood siren. I am barely a whistle,
comparatively.
My only consolation is that I am a fabulous assistant. I
can plan a party like no one’s business and deal with the
snootiest people on the planet all with a smile. Don’t even
get me started about the all-nighters I’ve pulled, dealing
with anything from a PR crisis to running lines with Drake to
satisfying his need for some homemade pistachio oat bars.
He’s lucky that I’m a fabulous baker, if I do say so myself.
And his schedule was always meticulously organized.
 I just needed to focus on my job and quit pretending
that one day Drake would come to his senses and see that I
was the woman for him. The woman, like he said, for whom
he could be vulnerable and human. He could continue to be
his godlike self with women who cared nothing for him,
other than walking the red carpet on his arm and
capitalizing on his ability to catapult their own careers. They
didn’t know the real him like I did. The man who at times
could be insecure and had a sweet tooth. The man who had
cried like a baby in my arms after his brother had died. Not
only that, but we were both suckers for old movies like An
Affair to Remember. I had to face it; I would never be the
Deborah Kerr to his Cary Grant.
“You’re the best assistant I’ve ever had. I don’t want to
mess that up,” Drake obliterated all my hopes. He might as
well have patted me on the head and told me I was a cute
little puppy and asked me to please go fetch his iPad for
him.
The car ride got uncomfortably silent except for the poor
windshield wipers that were pretty much useless. But thanks
to my anxiety over facing potential death, I had no time to
be embarrassed. The snow was coming down so hard now,
the semi’s lights looked more like an eerie glow. I gripped
the door handle even harder. This was the worst decision
ever, you know, right after falling in love with my boss.
Several agonizing minutes passed while I was sure I
would die. To occupy my last minutes alive, I ran all the
social media posts through my head where Drake would be
mourned and immortalized and I would get a tiny little
mention, like, “Oh yeah, his underwhelming assistant died
too. But let’s focus on how I’m crying myself to sleep
knowing I’ll never see a new Drake Foster movie again.”
Finally, Drake put me out of my agony and admitted
defeat. “I think we better find a place to stay for the night.”
I let out a huge sigh of relief. “I think that’s a good
idea.” Famous last words.
P.S. It was not a good idea.
We made it down the mountain and ended up in Fair
Hollow, a small town in Teton Valley. Well, I assumed it was
small, but it was hard to tell in the dark with a blanket of
snow covering everything in sight. But judging from the
limited number of hotels popping up on Google, small was a
safe bet. And unfortunately, we were not the only people in
search of a place to wait out Snowmageddon. I called the
two hotels listed to find they were already booked for the
night. All the Airbnbs and ski resorts were full as well.
Thankfully, the last hotel clerk suggested I try the Old Rock
Church Inn. We were in luck—sort of.
“Do you want the good news or the bad news first?” I
asked Drake as soon as he got back in the car. He had to
stop at the gas station to buy an energy drink. He mainlined
the stuff. I told him he was going to get kidney stones from
drinking all that caffeine, but he was willing to risk it. He
didn’t care if we found a place to stay as long as he could
get his beloved drink of choice.
 He shook the snow out of his gorgeous hair before
giving me a wry look. He never appreciated when I started
conversations like that.
“Fine, I’ll choose. So, the good news is that we won’t be
sleeping in the car tonight. The bad news is that we will be
sleeping together.”
He dropped the unopened drink on the floor of the car.
“I mean, we won’t be having sex.” Crap, I was making
this worse. I was thinking making out all night would be
good but knew I had to keep it to myself. “What I mean is,
they only have one room available—the honeymoon suite,
actually. I’ll take the couch,” I hurried to say, while my
cheeks burned in hell.
Drake stared blankly at me. Apparently, I had rendered
him mute.
“Is that okay? Do you want me to sleep in the car?” I
threw that out there, knowing full well there was no freaking
way I would. It was eighteen degrees outside. Besides, I
couldn’t ruin the trope we had going here. If romance books
had taught me anything, and believe me, they had taught
me plenty—the one thing I knew for sure was that when you
get stranded in a snowstorm with a handsome man, a
celebrity no less, the universe demands there can only be
one room available in the entire town and you must sleep in
it together. Too bad I already knew the ending: Charlotte
Valentine slept alone on the couch, drooled on her pillow,
and got a crick in her neck. The end.
 “Of course not.” He blinked a hundred times, as if trying
to comprehend the situation we found ourselves in. “You’ve
slept at my house dozens of times,” he added, like he was
trying to justify our turn of events.
It was true, we’d had many sleepovers before this night
—purely platonic ones. It was such a bummer. I had my own
designated bedroom at his house. It was the smallest room,
off the kitchen and as far away from his room as possible,
but who was I to complain?
“I’ll take the couch,” he offered.
Oh good, he could get a crick in his neck instead. “If you
want.” I shrugged, resigned to the fact that I wasn’t going to
be starring in my own personal rom-com. It was more like a
horror film where my heart got ripped out of my chest, still
beating true for Drake. Ugh.
It was a quiet jaunt over to the inn. Well, except for
Izzy’s voice telling me this was not a good idea. Did she
want me to sleep out in the cold? It was going to be fine. I
mean, I only had fuzzy oversized heart-print flannel pajamas
to wear. Nothing remotely sexy had ever happened in them.
In fact, they screamed “cute and perky assistant.” I already
knew how it would all go: we would eat, brush our teeth—
because Drake really loved to brush his teeth—and then we
would go to sleep separately, get up, and hopefully be able
to drive to an airport in the morning. Sure, I would probably
be up most of the night tossing and turning, knowing Drake
was so near and fantasizing about things that were already
making me blush. Our earlier conversation would for sure
play on repeat in my head while I burned with
embarrassment for hours on end. Other than that, it was
going to be fine, just fine. There were no more poor
decisions on the horizon. Like zero chances for them.
We pulled up to the Old Rock Church Inn, whose charm
and beauty shined through the darkness and never-ending
snowfall. I was in love. The old rustic stone church with
horseshoe windows was a Jane Austen dream come to life.
The white brick inn looked like it had been added on later
but was just as charming with a dormer roof and several
chimneys. I was aching to check out the attic or whatever
little rooms I was sure hid behind the small windows jutting
out of the roof. I imagined ball gowns and old leather trunks
filled with black-and-white pictures and first-edition classic
books.
“You’re in love with the place, aren’t you?” Drake
interrupted my daydreaming. Why did he have to know me
so well?
“It’s enchanting.”
He chuckled lowly. “Let’s go check in. I’ll get our
luggage afterward.”
Great, now he was being gentlemanly. I needed to call
Izzy so she could yell at me for real. In the meantime, I
began to run some of her previous lectures in my head:
“Char, he’s a playboy and you would only be a flavor of the
month. He’s too old for you.” That was a lie; he was only six
years older than me. She just liked to throw that in because
she was desperate to point out any conceivable flaw. “If you
cross the line, there is no going back and it would make
working for him almost impossible.” She was right. So right.
I loved my job even though it was excruciating at times,
watching Drake be everyone else’s leading man but my
own. At least the health insurance and pay were excellent.
It’s not like Drake wanted anything to happen. He’d
made that clear. It was going to be fine. Just fine. Why did I
feel the need to keep telling myself that?
We walked in, covered in snow and partially frozen, but
that didn’t put a damper on the crush I was developing for
this old place. The real hardwood floors that creaked and
the spiral staircase rivaling any Victorian home called to my
soul. To our right was a parlor complete with a roaring fire
and an ornate crystal chandelier that provided low lighting.
The shabby floral furniture and old tattered oriental rugs
added to the room’s charm. I peeked to the left to see what
looked like a darkened ballroom or perhaps a reception hall.
I believe it must have been the “church” part of the inn. I
desperately wanted to turn on the lights to see what I was
sure would be a truly magical place. Something spellbinding
hummed there. I felt it from my head to my toes.
“Hello, back here,” a rumbly old voice croaked.
Drake and I followed the voice down a narrow hallway,
where we found a kindly looking old man with barely a wisp
of hair, big ears, and a wide smile standing behind the fine
mahogany check-in counter that was in need of a good
polishing.
 The chatter of other guests drifted down the hall while
Dean Martin crooned on a record player situated on an
antique table in the corner. I was falling more and more in
love with the place.
I smiled at the old man. “Hi, I’m Charlotte; I think we
just spoke on the phone.”
The old man’s deep-brown eyes lit up almost as if he
recognized me. “Yes. I’m George. You booked the
honeymoon suite.”
I nodded.
He studied Drake and me for a moment. “I knew you
would be the right couple for it.”
Drake cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably next
to me. “We’re not a couple.” He was quick to set George
straight.
“Yeah, look at him,” I teased, before I did something
ridiculous and cried. “Who would want to wake up to that
face every morning?” You know, besides me.
George laughed a deep, throaty laugh. “Yep, you’re the
right couple.”
I wasn’t sure why the old man kept saying that, but
there was something about him that made me believe him. I
would swear he knew something we didn’t know.
Drake stepped forward, with his credit card and ID at the
ready. “If someone could see us to the room—it’s been a
long day.”
“Anxious, are we?” George wagged his bushy white
brows.
 Drake didn’t find it comical, judging by the heavy breath
he heaved out. I knew that one very well. His patience was
about to run thin.
I stepped out into the hall and let Drake do his thing.
The thing where he asked for privacy and room service.
While he prided himself on his career and at times loved the
limelight, he was in many ways a private person. And I was
sure he didn’t want it getting out that he and I shared the
honeymoon suite. Or any room at all for that matter.
While I tried not to let it bother me that he wasn’t
thrilled about this situation, I admired my surroundings—the
sconces on the walls marked by old photos and oil paintings
of flowers. The place was outdated and could use a good
sprucing, but it was, in a word, perfect. One photo in
particular caught my eye. It showed a handsome skinny
soldier with his arm around a cute, perky woman with
blonde hair, just like mine, pulled up in a ponytail.
Something in her ornery smile told me she and I could have
been friends.
“That’s me and my girl.” George appeared.
I turned to find Drake and George. George was smiling,
Drake was not.
“I’m going to go get our luggage,” Drake grumbled.
“Thank you,” I replied.
George held out his arm to me. “I will escort you to your
room and tell you about my Daisy.”
I looped my arm through his. “I’d love that.”
 Drake sighed. He knew I was a hopeless romantic—
unfortunately, it was him I was hopelessly in love with.
George had a bent back and shuffled more than he
walked. I felt as if I were holding him steady as we headed
down the hall toward the spiral staircase.
“This place was my Daisy girl’s dream. We were married
on the grounds here outside in the gazebo.”
“That sounds lovely.” I made a mental note to look at
the gazebo the next morning, if it wasn’t completely
covered in snow, that is.
“That it was. I promised her that day, if I made it back
from Vietnam, I would buy her this place. It took me a lot of
years to make good on that promise.”
That made me tear up. “What a lucky girl.”
“I was the lucky one. Fifty years wasn’t long enough
with her,” he choked up.
We started up the steps, carefully and slowly.
“I’m sorry to hear she’s passed.”
“Oh, she lives in the very walls here.” He waved his
gnarled and knotted free hand around. “She works her
magic still.”
“Magic?”
He gave me a big smile, showing off his stained
dentures. “I know you can feel it. You have the same free
spirit about you that my Daisy had.”
I bit my lip and whispered, “I do feel something here.”
He nodded. “I knew you would.”
“How can you tell? You don’t even know me.”
 He patted my hand that was holding on to his arm, but
said not a word.
It was a laborious trip up the wooden steps, but he
didn’t complain.
My mind was buzzing with his mysterious words.
It took some hard work on his part, but we finally made
it to the room. We stood in front of the old wooden door,
marked by a brass sign emblazoned with “Honeymoon
Suite.”
“Here we are,” George said, out of breath. “A word of
warning: this room is the most magical of all.” He pressed
the key into my hand. “Have a good night.” He smiled
mischievously before turning to walk back down the hall.
I stared after him, wondering if he was crazy or if I was. I
did feel something—like my life was about to change. I
brushed off that silly notion and unlocked the door with the
big brass skeleton key. I walked in and flipped on the light.
My breath caught in my chest as I surveyed the pristine
room, complete with a large four-poster bed and a white
painted fireplace with two light-blue velvet chairs placed in
front of it. A handcrafted armoire stood proudly in the
corner. But it was the pedestal tub for two on a raised
wooden platform that won my heart. Too bad I wouldn’t get
to enjoy it, as it was out in the open. I was sure Drake
wouldn’t appreciate me bathing in front of him.
I slipped out of my boots and hung my coat on the
nearby coatrack before hustling over to the fireplace. I was
grateful all I had to do was flip a switch and it roared to life.
I sat on the plush cream rug in front of it, soaking in its
warmth. As I sat there, I tried not to let the magic of the
romantic room, with silky smooth satin sheets already
turned down, seep into my soul. It was then I realized there
was no couch in this room. I resigned myself to curling up on
the floor in front of the fireplace for the night. Or maybe
sleeping in the tub. I bet George would bring up some extra
bedding. On second thought, I should go get it. Poor man
might not survive a second trip up those stairs.
It didn’t take long for Drake to return, laden down with
our luggage—mostly his. He always packed way more than I
did.
He dropped our bags near the door and looked around,
grimacing as he went.
“I’ll sleep in the tub,” I offered, knowing he’d noticed the
no-couch situation.
He gave me an inkling of a smile. “That won’t be
necessary.”
I wasn’t sure what that meant but didn’t feel like asking
either. I didn’t know if my heart could handle the thought of
us sharing a bed, or him telling me he’d just see if there was
a rollaway bed available.
“Okay.” I went back to staring at the dancing flames.
“George said he’d have someone bring up a tray of
food. He wouldn’t say what they’re serving. He’s an odd
guy.”
“I like him.”
“You like everyone.”
 “That’s not true—I’m just good at hiding my disdain for
people, unlike you.”
“That’s what makes you a better person than me.”
I turned and caught his thoughtful stare. He was
dripping now, from the melting snow in his hair and on his
clothes.
“You should change out of those wet clothes.”
“You’re always watching out for me,” he said tenderly.
“It’s my job.” I smiled.
“Yes, your job,” he sighed, before running a hand
through his damp hair. “I think I’ll shower and change.”
“Good idea.” I turned from him, desperately trying not
to think about how lucky that shower was going to be. I
rested my head on my knees as all of Izzy’s lectures ran
through my head. It was Drake’s words, though, that
assaulted me the most. That was good. Exactly what I
needed to ensure I didn’t make another poor decision.
I was grateful when a knock interrupted the hot shame I
was feeling for semi-throwing myself at my boss earlier. I
hopped up and dashed to the door, hoping it was the food.
Drake was a different person if he was hungry. I normally
kept snacks for him in my bag, but we’d left so quickly I
hadn’t had time to restock his favorite protein bars and
dried cherries.
I opened the door to find George holding up a picnic
basket. Well, he was trying. He was shaking from the effort. I
retrieved the heavy item before George tipped over.
“What’s this?” I held up the basket.
 George gave me that mischievous smile of his. “It’s the
Daisy Special. It works every time.”
I tilted my head. “The Daisy Special?”
“Nothing like grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato
soup to get the motors revving, if you know what I mean.”
Oh, I knew what he meant, and he was oh so wrong.
Drake’s and my relationship was permanently stalled. I
giggled anyway and played along with the cute old man who
probably had dementia. “I had no idea.”
“Daisy made this very dinner for me on our first date,
and we ate it every year on our anniversary.” His eyes
misted.
“That is the sweetest thing I have ever heard.”
“Mark my words, you’ll have your own sweet memories
after tonight.”
“Um . . . okay.” I didn’t have the heart to tell him he was
wrong. And I felt ridiculous for almost believing him.
“Good night.” He winked.
I shut the door and shook my head. The place was
getting to me. I set the basket on one of the chairs and
decided to freshen up and get into my pajamas. Drake was
notorious for taking long showers and preening in front of
the mirror. I wouldn’t say he was in love with himself, but he
was definitely infatuated. I could hardly blame him. He was
beautiful.
There was a vanity with a sink outside the bathroom. I
was feeling a bit gamy, so I brushed my teeth before taking
off my beanie to see if I could do something cute-ish with
my long blonde locks. Not like I was trying to impress Drake.
I’d gotten his message loud and clear—I was strictly his
employee. Besides, the man had already seen me at my
worst. Last year I’d had an exorcist event after I got food
poisoning. There was nothing more mortifying than having
Drake Foster hold your hair back while you vomited
everything you’d eaten in the last five years into his toilet. I
looked like death for two days after that. I had to say, Drake
played nurse very well. I did, however, want to at least look
human tonight.
I washed my face, put on some moisturizer, then put my
hair up in its signature messy bun.
I heard the shower turn off. It had me doing one more
check in the mirror. Okay, so maybe I wanted to look decent
for Drake. But all I saw in the mirror was his doe-eyed, cute
and perky assistant. I swear I stopped aging at twenty,
making me look perpetually young. Like too young to take
seriously.
I sighed and hurried to put on my pajamas. Once I had
solidified my “cute and perky” status with my ridiculous pjs,
I laid the checkered blanket George had included in the
basket in front of the fireplace and set out the “Daisy
Special.” That George was either delusional or a hopeless
romantic. Or maybe he did this for every guest and just
played the magical angle to get better Google reviews.
Regardless, George was a saint. He’d included some
chocolate chip cookies the size of my head and bottles of
cold milk. He was getting the best online review ever.
 While Drake preened, I indulged in the finest chocolate
chip cookie I had ever tasted. I shoved a big bite of it in my
mouth and closed my eyes to let the chocolate soothe my
soul. Sadly, I got caught in the act.
“Do you need a moment there?” Drake’s sexy voice
interrupted my bliss.
“Yes,” I mumbled, with my mouth full and eyes still shut.
“Too bad, I’m starving.”
I opened my eyes to find my shirtless boss joining me
on the blanket. I dropped the remainder of the cookie and
swallowed slowly while gaping at Drake’s smooth, well-
defined chest. It’s not like I hadn’t seen the man’s chest
before. For crying out loud, I’d buttoned up his shirt and tied
his tie a hundred times. But in this ridiculously romantic
room, in front of a blazing fire, it felt different. I was no
longer his assistant; I was the woman who loved him.
I took a deep breath in and tried to channel Izzy. That
didn’t help, as I got a whiff of his clean shower scent, which
did all sorts of things to every one of my glands. I forced
myself to imagine Izzy covering my eyes and telling me to
take shallow breaths while she whisked me away. That made
me smile. Oddly, Drake smiled back. Like a full-on see-my-
beautiful-pearly-whites smile. I’d never seen it before.
“Um, George brought grilled cheese sandwiches and
tomato soup. If you don’t like it, I can see if we can order
something else, because I call dibs on the cookies and
milk.” I gave him a crooked grin.
“You’re adorable, you know that, right?”
 Unfortunately, I did. I grimaced.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I sighed.
He arched his left brow so debonairly, the butterflies in
my stomach started giving each other lap dances. “You are
the worst liar I’ve ever met.”
“Thanks,” I groaned.
“Charlotte, that’s a compliment. It’s why I trust you. So,
tell me what I did wrong.”
I grabbed another cookie and clutched it like a security
blanket, feeling so exposed. “I’m almost thirty years old—I
don’t want to be thought of as adorable.”
“How do you want to be thought of?”
“Not as adorable.” I took a bite of cookie.
He absentmindedly picked up a sandwich and stared
down at it for an unnaturally long time before he whispered,
“You’re beautiful, Charlotte.”
“Now who’s lying?”
He raised his head, his eyes grabbing me like a thief in
the night. “Not me.”
“You don’t have to say that.” I was getting all sorts of
hot and flustered. “I’ve seen all your girlfriends.”
“Then you, better than anyone, should know I speak the
truth.”
I rolled my eyes. “Eat your food. I think you’re having a
hypoglycemic episode.”
“My blood sugar is fine.”
“Perhaps you’re having an aneurysm,” I quipped.
 “Why don’t you believe me?” Frustration seeped
through his words.
I didn’t need any more embarrassing moments tonight
where he told me I was beautiful on the inside or something
akin to that, so I responded, “Eat. I know you’re starving.”
He stared at the spread I had set out on the fancy floral-
patterned plates and bowls George had provided. The
tomato soup was hot enough that steam was rolling off it.
“Do you want something else?” I asked.
“No,” he said quietly. “It’s just been a long time since
I’ve had grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. It was
my dad’s favorite,” he said offhandedly.
“Really?”
Drake nodded.
“Tell me about him.” I was so curious about the man he
never spoke of and had refused to allow to be a part of
Jameson’s funeral. Not even I had been allowed to go.
“He is stubborn and impossible,” Drake said with a sad
smile.
“So that’s where you get it from,” I teased.
Drake’s head drifted up, and again he hit me with a full-
blown smile. It made all the lap-dancing butterflies take a
serious tumble, so much so that I grabbed my midsection.
“You should smile more,” I said, my voice sounding very
breathy, as it seemed the air had been sucked out of the
room.
“And have people get the wrong impression of me? I
can’t do that.”
 “They already do. You’re not Kaden Chandler, aloof
rogue and international spy.” It was the role he was most
famous for. He had already done three movies under that
franchise, with at least three more to go.
“I am a rogue,” he lamented.
“You play a good one, I’ll give you that. But deep down
you know that’s not who you are. You are the man who
remembers my birthday and checks to make sure I arrive
home safely every night. Your Christmas bonuses are always
amazing.” I giggled. “And you always let me have your pizza
crust. I mean, that practically makes you a saint.”
He scooted closer, the fire reflecting in his sea-green
eyes. “Please stop humanizing me.”
“Why?”
“Because it makes me want to show you how beautiful I
think you are.”
My heart pounded so hard, surely he could hear it. My
head pounded as well, with Izzy’s voice screaming, “Danger,
Will Robinson! Abort! I repeat, abort!” But she wasn’t here
and didn’t see the way he was looking at me, as if I were his
everything. In his eyes, I could see that I was beautiful. I
was so mesmerized by what I saw, Izzy’s voice faded, and
my heart overruled my head.
I dropped my cookie and whispered, “Show me.”
He didn’t hesitate to close the distance between us,
until we were sharing the same breaths. His fingers danced
on my cheek, as if he were afraid it would break me if he
increased the pressure of his delicate touch. Yet as light as
his touch was, I felt it in the very core of my soul. It
whispered he was my person. The George to my Daisy.
“Charlotte,” he said my name as if he worshipped me.
His hot, minty breath warmed me better than the fire. “You
are beautiful,” he whispered against my lips, before his
gently landed on mine.
My hands happily found their way to his chiseled chest,
my fingers pressed into his flesh, which was covered in
goose bumps.
He nibbled on my lower lip, gently tugging on it.
Oh. Wow. I stopped breathing and wound my arms
around his neck, silently begging him to continue. He didn’t
disappoint. His tongue slid across my lip before dancing
right into my mouth. Our tongues naturally tangled and
tasted as if they were immediately at home. Yes, that was
the perfect word for it. I had come home.
I leaned in more and he took me into his arms, pulling
me onto his lap, where he drew me as close as he could, as
if he never wished to let go. It never once crossed my mind
that I had made another foolish choice. How could
something so right ever be wrong?

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter One
SIX YEARS LATER
“You missed a spot.” Izzy walked in, wearing a Cheshire
cat grin that never meant anything good for me.
I set the roller in the tray and wiped my brow while
trying to find the spot on the wall my sister claimed I
missed. The newly painted alabaster wall seemed perfectly
even to me. But for all I knew I had painted my own eyes
alabaster by this point. I swear we had been painting for
eons. “Where?” I finally gave up searching and asked.
A smug Izzy walked across the plastic-covered
hardwood floors and pointed at the obvious spot where the
old robin’s egg blue paint was bleeding through. “Right
here.”
I sighed, lowered myself to the floor, and dramatically
laid down. “Why did we think this was a good idea?” I
lamented.
Izzy lay next to me. Her perfect dark curls splayed out.
Our parents used to call her Snow White and me Sleeping
Beauty, on account of how contrasting our hair was. But
truly, it was Izzy who was the beauty, with her red wine lips
and creamy complexion. No one would guess she had just
turned forty.
Izzy took my hand and squeezed it. “Dreams take hard
work.” She always knew the right thing to say.
I looked up at the newly installed noble bronze ceiling
fan in the guest room we would call the Kate and Alex room.
Kate and Alex from The Lake House, one of Izzy’s and my
favorite movies. The room would eventually have love
letters plastered to the wall, hopefully many from future
guests, and an old rustic mailbox would hold the guest
towels. Every room at the inn had a romantic couples theme
from either a famous book or movie, with the exception of
one room. That room was going to be named for the special
couple who had made their dream come true and then
entrusted Izzy and me to carry it on.
When George decided to sell the Old Rock Church Inn, I
was the first person he’d called. He said he knew from the
first moment we met that the beloved place would be mine
eventually. He was the craziest and sweetest old man, but
he was right—the place called to me. Over the last several
years, I had visited the inn and George as often as I could.
Each time it got harder and harder to leave.
I squeezed Izzy’s hand. “Thanks for helping me make
this dream a reality.”
“Well, I’m about to make another one of your dreams
come true,” she sang.
I turned my head toward her. “Please tell me it’s the one
where I get to sleep for eight hours straight and actually
wake up feeling refreshed.” I couldn’t remember the last
time that had happened.
Izzy laughed. “Honey, I said I was making your dream
come true, not taking you to fantasy island.”
“Fine.” I smiled. “Tell me.”
 “I found the money to buy the Swarovski Crystal French
Empire chandelier you’ve been drooling over.”
I popped up. “What? Really? How?” I had been going
through our budget like crazy trying to find any way possible
to buy that baby. The ballroom begged for it. But I could
never find a way to make it work. Those thousands of
dollars were needed elsewhere, as in a new roof, new pipes,
an HVAC system, and other necessities.
Izzy sat up, too, looking a bit pensive, biting her lower
lip.
I tilted my head. “Don’t tell me you want to harvest one
of my kidneys,” I teased her.
“You might like that better.”
My eyes widened. “What did you do?”
Her devious brown eyes bored into mine. “I did the right
thing.”
I rubbed my temples. “Whenever you say that, it never
ends well for me.”
“When have I ever steered you wrong?” she scoffed.
“Uh, when I was in the eighth grade, you told me blue
eye shadow was totally my shade and that I should part my
hair in a zigzag pattern. Do you know how ridiculous my
yearbook photo was that year?”
She snort-giggled. “It’s the gift that keeps on giving to
me.”
I nudged her with my shoulder. “You are such a brat. Tell
me what you’ve done now.”
 She took a deep breath, inhaling and exhaling at turtle
speed. With each second, I grew more nervous. She finally
took my hand and held it between her own. “I had an
interesting phone call from a past guest. Well, not him
exactly, but this man was quite adamant we let his boss
stay here tomorrow evening.”
I scrunched my brow. “Did you tell this person we aren’t
open for business yet?”
“Of course, darling.” She batted her eyes, mocking me.
“But the man said money was no object.”
“But we don’t even have the proper permits and haven’t
passed any inspections yet.” We’d had to do some serious
renovating when we bought the old place. The ballroom,
where we would hold weddings and receptions, was set to
open next month—on Valentine’s Day—just in time for the
annual ball George and Daisy had always held. We’d
promised George we would continue the tradition. And since
we were renaming the place Valentine Inn on account of our
last names, it seemed fitting. Almost like kismet. But we
weren’t planning on opening the inn itself until spring. We
still had a lot of work to do.
“I told him that, but like I said, the man was adamant
and said money was no object—so I told him fine, he could
stay here if he paid us ten thousand dollars and didn’t tell a
soul.”
“What?” I spat. “And he agreed to that?”
Izzy nodded uneasily.
 “Why would he do that? He could stay at the ski resort
for a lot less. And for now, have a better room.”
Someday soon, we would have the best rooms in town.
“Apparently, this place has sentimental meaning for
him.”
“Oh. Did he get married here?”
“No.” She rubbed my hand. “Char.” She swallowed hard.
“It’s Drake Foster.”
I clutched my throat and shook my head vehemently.
She had to be kidding. This was the worst practical joke in
the history of the world. I jumped up and began to pace.
“Please tell me you did not agree to let him stay here.” My
voice and body trembled like a 7.0-magnitude earthquake.
Izzy stood and gently put her arms around me. “Char,
it’s time. You have to tell him.”
“I can’t.” I buried my head into her chest,
hyperventilating.
She stroked my hair. “You’ve been living with the guilt
for far too long.”
It was my constant companion, but so was justifying my
choices. And I had some excellent justifications for those
poor choices, which once again involved a man. “He won’t
care,” I mumbled, then blubbered, “He never cared about
me.” That was always my first justification.
“I don’t know if that’s true. What other sentimental
reason, besides you, could he have for wanting to stay here
for a night?”
 “Well, George did make a mean grilled cheese
sandwich, and the cinnamon French toast was to die for.”
Izzy chuckled. “Yes, I’m sure that’s it. He’s coming for
the food we don’t even serve yet.”
“Does Drake know we own the place now?”
“I didn’t mention it to his assistant, and since our idiot
website guy is behind schedule putting up the new site, I
don’t know how he would know.”
I leaned away from her. “Then why would you do this to
me?” I whined. “You always hated him.”
She tugged on my braid. “Because I love you and I love
Jameson. You can’t keep telling my nephew that Uncle Sam
is his dad and that the fireworks made him.”
“In my defense, he was born on the Fourth of July, and
there were a lot of fireworks when he was conceived.” I
hugged myself. Oh, that weekend. Things happened that I’d
never expected. A lot of poor decisions were made. Those
choices changed my life in ways I never imagined, a
combination of the most painful and the best possible. The
best being my sweet Jameson, the true love of my life.
“I’m sure they were spectacular,” she said wryly. “But
the kid is going to start thinking that if he sees fireworks
with a girl, she’s going to get pregnant.”
“You know, I don’t mind that. It could totally work in my
favor.” I started thinking about where to stock up on
fireworks. I would call it birth control.
Izzy let out a heavy you-are-ridiculous breath. “Jameson
deserves to know who his dad is, and as much as I loathe
Drake, he deserves to know he created a life. An amazing
life.”
Jameson was amazing. But .  .  . “Drake said I was a
mistake, Izzy,” I whispered. The sting of his words after
everything we’d shared six years ago still felt like a sucker
punch. “And then he went right back to Marissa. I meant
nothing to him. I can’t let him reject Jameson too.”
Izzy placed her hands on my shoulders. “I know how
much that scares you, but if he doesn’t want anything to do
with him, at least you’ll finally know so you can move on.”
“I have moved on,” I cried.
“Of course you have.” She gave me a cheeky grin. “You
totally avoid social media because of him. You freak out
every time the man has a new movie out and you see one of
the posters at the theater or even hear someone talk about
it. And how about the fact that you never date or talk about
men except for fictional characters?”
“Which you totally love, by the way,” I interjected. We
could talk all night about our favorite romantic heroes and
watch rom-coms until our eyes bled.
“Real men do have a tendency to severely disappoint,
as I well know.” Her divorce had been finalized just a year
ago. I think it’s one of the reasons she agreed to take on this
adventure with me. She, too, wanted a new start.
“Exactly. And as we both know, all my poorest choices
have involved a man. Better just to stay away from them.
Besides, I hope people will start some rumors about us in
this town. Two spinster sisters living together and running
an inn. Think of all the possibilities. We could be jewel
thieves or in witness protection, or maybe we practice
witchcraft.” I wagged my brows.
“Let’s hold off on the rumors for a while, especially since
you’re already harboring a huge secret.”
I rubbed my chest. I knew the rumors that would swirl if
my secret ever got out. “I know,” my voice hitched. “Am I a
bad person?” I had asked her that question probably a
thousand times since the day I saw two pink lines appear on
the home pregnancy test I’d taken six years ago. Almost two
months to the day after Drake and I had gotten snowed in,
in this very magical place.
She pulled me to her and hugged the life out of me.
“No, honey. You’re the best person I know.”
“I know I should have tried harder to tell him, but at the
time it made so much sense not to. I mean, the last
communication I had from him was a text that said, ‘What
more do we have to say to each other?’ Besides, I didn’t
want him to think I was trying to trap him or extort him for a
large sum of money, like you are now,” I teased.
“Hey, I figured he deserved it, and he’s bringing his
assistant. So that’s a two-for-one deal.”
“Did you say his assistant was a man?”
“Yep.”
“How odd.” Drake had only ever had female assistants,
as far as I knew.
“Maybe he’s changed,” Izzy reluctantly said.
 “I doubt it.” I snuggled more into her chest. “I can’t see
him, Izzy. What would I say to him?”
She squeezed me tighter. “You tell him the truth.”
Oh. Is that all?

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Two
I stood immobilized on the ladder, scraper in hand,
watching the homemade liquid concoction seep into the
popcorn ceiling in the Graham and Amanda room—which
would one day resemble the cozy English cottage in the
beloved movie The Holiday. Izzy and I must have watched
that movie at least a hundred times. There was something
about Jude Law. The way he could play both a villain and a
romantic lead so perfectly. It was like he always brought a
little of both to each role and the combination was
devastatingly yummy. He reminded me of someone else I
knew. Someone who would be here in five hours.
I had hardly slept the night before, thinking about what I
was going to say to Drake when I saw him. He didn’t like
surprises and this one was a doozy. So, I ruled out “Surprise,
happy Father’s Day” as an intro. I was considering “I have
some good news for you, your aim is fantastic, and your
genes are impeccable.” Perhaps I could go with “Just wanted
to give you a heads-up that in twenty years our son might
do one of those DNA test kit things you get in the mail, so
don’t be surprised when you get a phone call out of the
blue, because he is one hundred percent yours.” Or “Look
what you made—isn’t he beautiful?” But I didn’t want Drake
to see Jameson, and I didn’t want Jameson to see Drake. I
couldn’t stand the thought of Jameson knowing who his
father was if Drake wanted nothing to do with him. On the
flip side, I was also worried Drake may want to be a part of
his life and I would have to share my little J with him and his
flavor of the month. Or worse, Marissa, his flavor every
other month.
I’d made a mess of things. I knew that. My parents and
Izzy had continually told me I needed to tell Drake the truth.
And I had tried to. I called a couple of times, but he never
answered. So, I sent a text and asked him to call me; that’s
when he responded, What more do we have to say to each
other? That kick in the gut didn’t give me much incentive to
try any harder to let him know he was going to be a father.
Couple that with the memory of him dropping me off at my
apartment once we’d made it back to LA. I’d gone to kiss
him goodbye, but he’d put a hand up to stop me. He’d
closed his eyes, not even having the decency to look at me
before saying, “This weekend should have never happened.
It was a mistake.” He might as well have slapped me. How
could he say that after a weekend where he hadn’t been
able to get enough of me? He’d told me things he’d never
told anyone about his family, about himself. We’d laughed,
we’d cried, we’d had picnics in front of the fire.
But once we returned to LA, I didn’t even recognize him.
He would hardly speak to me, and then I saw him with
Marissa and that was it. My broken heart couldn’t take it
anymore, so I resigned by email, not giving any notice. Then
I hightailed it back home to Florida to work as Izzy’s
assistant at the interior design firm she had co-owned with
her now ex-husband. He’d bought her out in the divorce.
 For days, I’d waited for Drake to respond to my email or
call me, begging me to come back. Or to at least explain
why he’d lied to me, telling me that he didn’t want to know
a life without me in it. But he’d never contacted me, except
for his curt response to the text I’d sent after I found out I
was pregnant. The only other thing I’d gotten from him was
a substantial final paycheck direct deposited to my checking
account. While I appreciated the money, it made me feel
like a prostitute.
I was so devastated at the time, I hadn’t even realized I
wasn’t feeling all that great. It wasn’t until I collapsed one
day at work, after feeling woozy while helping Izzy hang
some curtains at a client’s house, that Izzy suggested I
might be pregnant. The shock of those two pink lines still
got to me. But I wouldn’t change it for all the world.
Jameson is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I
just wasn’t sure Drake would feel the same way about him.
He’d never said anything about wanting children or even
settling down. I should have taken that to heart before I
gave him all of me, thinking we’d be together until the end
of time. I was still a little salty with George for making me
believe Drake and I were meant to be. Silly old man still
thought so. He loved to tell me that sometimes it takes a
while for happily ever afters to work themselves out.
Well, I would show George. My life was no rom-com. And
I was okay with that. Izzy, Jameson, and I were making new
dreams in Fair Hollow. Speaking of those dreams, I needed
to redirect my efforts and get to work on them, rather than
wallow in the past.
I reached into my pocket and grabbed my earbuds. I
popped them in and put on The Killers. I needed some “Mr.
Brightside.” Maybe Brandon Flowers could help me come up
with the right words to say to Drake. I cranked up the music
before reaching up to scrape the obnoxious popcorn off the
ceiling, wondering who ever thought spraying polystyrene
was a good idea.
As much as I didn’t love this particular task, there was
something so satisfying about making a clean slate.
Unfortunately, it meant I was covered in damp white goo. I
would need to shower before I picked Jameson up from
school in a few hours. And before I came face-to-face with
his father for the first time in over six years. I felt queasy
just thinking about it.
You know something that made me feel even more ill?
Singing at the top of my lungs, wearing ridiculous goggles,
while covered in white goo, and turning to find I had an
audience standing at the open door. A very early audience.
I dropped my scraper on the plastic-covered floor, my
mouth agape. There stood Izzy, with two impeccably
dressed men. One I had never seen before but found quite
attractive. He had a Latin lover vibe going for him with his
radiant brown skin, deep, dark eyes, and gorgeous wavy
black hair. I knew the other man almost better than I knew
myself. Drake stood there in the flesh, looking better than
he did six years ago, in fit-me-right jeans and a blue
cashmere sweater. He’d let his hair grow out a bit,
showcasing those to-die-for curls he had gifted our son. Oh,
did I love the curls. He was looking quite tan for January. His
bronzed skin only made his incredible eyes shine more. As
much as I loved his eyes, I was so happy Jameson hadn’t
inherited those babies. If he had, the kid would get away
with everything and anything by simply flashing those
peepers at me. It was already hard enough not to fall for his
five-year-old charm.
Drake stared at me with a deer-in-the-headlights kind of
stare. He was probably thinking he’d dodged a bullet. I was
still wearing overalls and my hair was in a messy bun. If that
didn’t do it, I’m sure the sexy goggles definitely had him
thanking his lucky stars he’d tossed me out with the trash a
long time ago.
Izzy was saying something, but I had no idea what. Her
mouth was moving but all I heard were The Killers
screaming in my head and all the swear words I wanted to
shout at my sister for not giving me a heads-up that Drake
was extremely early, and for telling him he could stay here
in the first place.
I clumsily took out my earbuds, and they fell to the floor.
I didn’t care. I made no attempt to retrieve them. Instead, I
clung to the ladder for dear life.
“Our guests arrived early,” Izzy said, with an evil glint in
her eyes.
One would think with all the swear words going through
my head, I’d be able to string a few coherent words
together. But none came to mind while Drake stood there
staring at me. I wanted so badly to hate him, but seeing him
made me think of things I didn’t want to, like how it felt to
wake up in his arms to his sweet and gentle kisses. Or how
he could say my name and make it sound like he was
reliving a dream.
“Sorry to intrude, but Mr. Foster needed to adjust his
arrival time to compensate for a change in meeting times
scheduled later this afternoon and into the evening,” the
man I assumed to be Drake’s assistant said. Why was he
calling him Mr. Foster? Drake had never been so formal.
I still said nothing. Drake and I were locked in a serious
staring contest. Which reminded me, I could see him better
if I took off the ridiculous goggles. I whipped them off and
let them drop to the floor too.
Drake rewarded me with his dampened smile.
I couldn’t return it because all I saw was Jameson giving
me that same smile. It was a stark reminder that the piper
had come to call, and I had no idea how to answer.
When I didn’t smile back, Drake ran a hand through his
hair. “Hi, Charlotte.” There he went saying my name like it
meant something to him. He was such a liar.
Thankfully, I knew better now and had no plans to make
any more poor choices when it came to men. Now clothing,
sure, I was all about rocking the overalls and baggy flannel
shirts that hid my slender figure.
“Hi,” I whispered back.
 “I was just telling Drake and Martez how we bought the
old place.” Izzy smiled, perusing Martez like he was a bag
full of candy on Halloween. If I had to guess, he was about
ten years younger than her and had some Cuban heritage,
based on his name and handsome features. “Drake here”—
she patted his back a little too hard, making him wince
—“was awfully surprised,” she sang.
Drake narrowed his eyes at Izzy, not appreciating being
touched, I was sure. He didn’t like people touching him.
Well, at least not like that. I had to quit thinking about how
much I had touched him. The butterflies in my stomach
were on the verge of joining a merengue line.
I held my stomach. There would be no dance parties for
Drake ever again. The man thought I was a mistake and
would soon hate me for keeping Jameson a secret. Or worse,
he would thank me for leaving him out of the picture and
tell me “Thanks but no thanks” on the whole dad thing.
“Had I known,” Drake began to say, “I—”
“ . . . wouldn’t have come,” I finished for him.
“No.” He clenched his fists, telling me he was lying.
“Right.” I climbed down the ladder to retrieve the items
I had dropped. “I’m sure you want to get settled. Izzy can
show you to your rooms. I need to get back to work.” And
cry. Lots of crying was in my future plans.
Drake turned to Izzy and Martez. “Would you excuse us
for a moment?”
I whipped my head in Izzy’s direction and begged her
with my eyes not to leave me alone with Drake.
 She shook her devious head no. “You got this,” she
mouthed.
I so did not have this.
“Right this way, Martez.” Izzy acted like she was a The
Price Is Right beauty queen and waved her hand toward the
door as if there were a new car on the other side.
As soon as they left, Drake stepped closer to me.
I stayed on the first rung of the ladder and clung to it.
Drake shoved his hands into the front pockets of his
designer jeans. “It’s been a long time.”
“Yep.”
“Charlotte, listen, I know we left things unsettled
between us.”
“I wouldn’t say that. I think you made yourself perfectly
clear about where things stood between us.”
His ears and cheeks pinked. “I suppose I did.”
“Well, that was a fun trip down memory lane. I’m so
glad we had this little chat,” I said ten pitches too high. “I
hope you enjoy your stay.”
“Charlotte,” he breathed out. “Please, I think we should
talk.”
I knew we needed to, but it was the last thing I wanted
to do. How could I tell him about Jameson? It was obvious
Drake still thought of me as big fat mistake.
I looked down at my filthy self. “I’m busy.”
“And I don’t want to interrupt you. I have meetings
through dinner. Perhaps I can take you out for a late drink.”
 “Sorry, I’m busy tonight.” You know, reading bedtime
stories and snuggling the cutest five-year-old in existence.
“Date?” he hesitated to ask.
“Nothing horrible like that.” I was dead serious. Don’t
get me wrong, I was all about the romance—it was just
better left for movies and books. It was much more
satisfying that way. I loved reading about people’s poor
romantic choices much more than living them out myself.
His eyes widened. “You’re married,” he sighed. Of
course, he would think that. He obviously thought being
with one person for the rest of his life was a fate worse than
death.
“Absolutely not.”
He tilted his head. “Is there any way you can change
your plans? I’m only in town for one night.”
That was good news. I didn’t think my heart could deal
with him for much longer. I’ve never taken drugs before, but
my heart felt like it was on a hit of an amphetamine and I
was going to OD at any moment. “Sorry, I can’t.” Sure, I
could ask Izzy to watch Jameson; they were best buds. But
the last thing I needed was to be seen in town with Drake.
Jameson was kind of his mini-me and I didn’t need people
connecting those dots.
He let out his signature frustrated groan, the one he
used when people didn’t automatically acquiesce to his
plans or way of thinking. “What about breakfast?”
“Sorry, I’m busy then too.”
“What are you doing?” he demanded to know.
 I raised my brow.
He took a deep breath in and out. “I apologize for
snapping at you. What you do is none of my business.”
He got that right.
“But,” he continued, “I get the feeling you’re purposely
avoiding me.”
“You would know all about how that’s done. What more
do we have to say to each other?” I threw out the last words
he’d said to me, while climbing back up the ladder.
He practically lunged toward me and tugged on my
sleeve. “Charlotte, I deserve that. That and more. Please
give me the chance to explain why . . .” He seemed at a loss
for words.
I looked down and made the mistake of getting caught
in the trap of his imploring sea-green eyes. “Why what?”
“Why I’m such a bastard.”
That sounded like fun. After he explained that, then I
could explain why I never told him he was a father. I guess
you could say it was because he was a bastard. I never
wanted to believe that about him. I thought I knew him
better than anyone else. But I was wrong about him, and it
was wrong of me to have kept the truth from him. Maybe I
should just blurt the truth out now and get it over with, but
since he had meetings to get to, it didn’t seem like the right
time. Although it was weird he had meetings in Fair Hollow
of all places. But I didn’t care to ask with whom.
“Fine. Does coffee here at eight-thirty tomorrow work for
you?” That way Jameson would be safely at school. And
after I told him, he could be off on his merry way.
“I’ll make it work,” he was quick to agree.
“Okay. Izzy will show you to your room.” That was me
begging him to leave.
“I know the way.”
I guess he would.
I bit my lip. “Why did you ask to stay in that room?” Our
room.
He rubbed his neck and let out the heaviest of breaths.
“Hell, it sounds crazy.”
He had no idea what kind of crazy I had in store.
“How?” I asked.
His eyes caught hold of me again, putting a stranglehold
on my wildly beating heart. “I hoped the memory of you
here would haunt me.”
I rubbed my chest. “Why would you want that?”
“I’ll tell you over coffee. That way I know you’ll show
up.” He gave me an inkling of a smile.
“How do you know I will?”
“Because I know you, Charlotte.” He spun on his heels
and headed for the door. “See you later.”
All I could do was blink a hundred times as I watched
him go, almost hating him for knowing me so well. Yet, a
thread of hope squeezed my heart, thinking I had haunted
him as much as he had haunted me over the years. All while
knowing that tomorrow might haunt us both for the rest of
our lives.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Three
“Ready, set, go,” I yelled before Jameson, Izzy, and I slid
across the polished ballroom floor in our socks. It was
becoming a nightly ritual before bedtime. That and a dance
party.
We each ran a few feet before we got enough
momentum to let our sock-covered feet do their thing and
glide across the floor. Jameson had the advantage since he
was small and light. But Izzy was a cheater and always tried
to hold me back.
“Knock it off,” I laughed, while trying to get out of her
hold. Better to laugh than cry. I was trying to enjoy my last
few hours before Drake knew the truth. More like I was
faking it for my son. Inside, I was a nervous wreck. I kept
checking out the windows to make sure Drake didn’t show
up without warning again. I jumped every time I saw
headlights, which thankfully wasn’t too often, as we were a
bit off the beaten path in our lovely tourist town that was
clamoring with skiers and winter sports enthusiasts this time
of year. I wished we could capitalize on it, but there was just
too much work to do before we could open. We hadn’t even
touched the George and Daisy or Westley and Buttercup
rooms, where Drake and Martez were staying. I was saving
the George and Daisy room, a.k.a. the honeymoon suite, for
last. I had so many conflicting feelings about it. On one
hand, I wanted it to stay the same because some of my
sweetest memories lived there. On the other hand, I wanted
to completely make it over because it was a painful
reminder. In fact, I hoped I haunted the heck out of Drake in
there tonight. Whatever that meant.
All I knew was what Martez had told Izzy—that Drake
had fired like ten assistants after me and he was always
comparing them to me, which I guess had them all cursing
my name. Apparently, Martez had lasted the longest since
my tenure. He’d been working for Drake for the past year.
Izzy seemed to think Martez liked working for Drake, but he
found him to be impersonal and cold. It didn’t surprise me.
It had taken Drake a while to warm up to me after I’d
started working for him. But I was determined to make him
like me and open up to me. Eventually he did. I probably
should have just kept it professional, but then I wouldn’t
have Jameson.
I watched my little guy slide with ease and giggle the
most addicting giggle in the history of the world.
“Look at me, Mom,” he yelled.
Oh, I was always watching him, afraid I might miss
something. When he was first born, I would spend hours
watching him, hardly believing I could create something so
wonderful. I would think, I am a freaking rock star—look at
this perfect kid. Then other times I would cry because I was
exhausted with cracked nipples, wondering what day it was,
and thinking I had no clue what I was doing. But somehow,
we’d both survived.
“Way to go, J man.”
 He turned and flashed me his best toothy grin. He was
such a happy kid. I knew that once upon a time his father
was too. Drake had shared some of his childhood memories
with me that weekend. He’d had a horse named Thunder,
and his brother Jameson’s was named Lightning. From the
sounds of it, they rode more than they walked. He talked
about exploring the hills near his home and digging for
buried treasure and building forts. All things I could imagine
my own Jameson doing.
“Let’s do it again,” he pleaded.
“How about let’s go get our pjs on and get ready for
bed?” I countered.
“Listen, Mom, I had a long day at school. A boy needs to
unwind.”
Izzy and I snickered. The kid was too much. Between my
parents and Izzy and me, he’d probably spent way too much
time around grown-ups. My dad was always telling my mom
that he needed time to unwind.
“Oh really? Kindergarten is that rough?” I smiled.
“Yeah. I read like four books today and wrote my name
ten times. And then when I got home, I built two snowmen.”
“That is a rough day. I guess we better have a dance-
off.”
“Yes!” Jameson shouted.
“I’ll turn on the music,” Izzy offered. She jogged over to
the alcove where we kept the sound equipment for now and
plugged in her phone.
 Meanwhile, I stared up at the gold-leafed ceiling,
imagining my chandelier in the middle of it, sparkling like
thousands of diamonds. At least this visit of Drake’s would
be good for something. This space screamed for a fabulous
chandelier. All grand halls deserved one.
Soon the Bee Gees’ “Stayin’ Alive” was blaring over the
surround sound.
“Ooh. We’re going disco tonight,” I shouted.
We immediately began rolling our arms and then
pointing toward the ceiling and the floor. Then we did a few
turns before we started thrusting our hips. It was hilarious to
watch Jameson; the kid was so skinny he had nothing to
thrust. Now me and Izzy—we could thrust some hips. Watch
out, baby!
For a moment I almost forgot I was in the middle of a
mini crisis. Almost. Out of nowhere my crisis showed up. I
turned to find a smiling Drake standing under the arched
entrance. How did he get there? I hadn’t seen any car lights
or heard the front door open. Not that I would have heard
anything with the music so loud. And he wasn’t supposed to
return until after Jameson’s bedtime. Jameson! Crap!
“Drake,” I screeched, while grabbing my heart.
Izzy gave me a sympathetic look before running to turn
off the music. She, more than anyone, knew what a wreck I
had been today, wandering around the place mumbling to
myself between fits of crying. It wasn’t just today; she’d
been with me through it all. She’d held my hand through the
excruciating pain of delivering a nine-pound baby with no
pain meds. Not my best decision, I’ll tell you that. Go
natural, they said. It will be so empowering. You know what
it was? It was like running through the gates of hell with my
vagina on fire. Did I feel empowered? Uh, hell yeah. Would I
do it again? Uh, hell no. Bring on the epidural. Not like I was
planning on having more kids. I mean, I would love to, but
as I was staying away from men, it kind of put a damper on
those plans. Regardless, Izzy had cheered me on every step
of the way.
“How did you get in here?” I asked Drake as soon as Izzy
turned down the music.
Drake pointed. “I used the back entrance.”
Of course, he did.
“What are you doing back so soon?” I asked, out of
breath.
Izzy grabbed Jameson’s hand and started leading him
toward the galley in the back. Bless her.
Drake stepped a bit closer as if he were unsure. “I didn’t
want to wait until the morning to see you.”
“Oh,” I squeaked, feeling like I might have a panic
attack.
“I want to stay with Mom.” Jameson pulled his hand out
of Izzy’s.
The panic attack arrived.
Drake’s eyes bulged.
Jameson ran toward me and wrapped his arms around
my legs. I, in turn, wrapped my arms around him, holding on
to him with all that I had.
 “You have a child,” Drake said, bewildered.
I nodded, my breath catching in my throat.
“I had no idea.” Drake stared at Jameson.
I ran my hand over Jameson’s hair. “Honey, why don’t
you go with Izzy and get ready for bed. I’ll come read to you
as soon as I’m done talking to my . . . uh . . . friend.” Yeah,
that was a word for him. The wrong word, but I was having a
hard time thinking with all the blood rushing like a raging
river in my body.
Izzy reached for Jameson.
Jameson clung tighter to my legs. I loved that he was a
mama’s boy, but tonight it wasn’t doing me any favors.
“I’ll make popcorn,” Izzy tried to bribe him.
Jameson didn’t budge.
Drake drew closer, now intently studying my son,
moving his head from side to side as if trying to get a good
look at him from every angle.
My heart beat harder and harder as I wondered if he
noticed any resemblance. “Let me put him to bed, and then
we can talk,” I stuttered.
Drake ignored me. “How old are you?” he asked my son
—our son.
Jameson held up his hand, showing all his fingers. “I’m
five . . . and a half.”
Oh, crap. Why did he have to say the half part?
Drake’s eyes immediately drilled into mine. I saw him
doing the math in his head, and one big question screamed
in his sea-green eyes—eyes that looked more like flashing
red sirens. “Five. And. A. Half.” Drake said every word with
serious distinction.
“Yep,” was all I could say. I was pretty sure I was going
into shock. My limbs had lost all feeling.
“I was born on the Fourth of July,” Jameson said proudly.
“The fireworks made me and gave me to my mom.”
Yeah, okay, maybe Izzy was right—I needed to quit
telling him that.
“Is that so?” Drake responded. “What’s your name?”
Here it came. The last nail in my coffin of deceit. I
braced myself.
Jameson let go of me and puffed out his chest. “Jameson
Valentine,” he said, like he was reporting for duty or was
just extra proud of his name, as he should be. His uncle
Jameson was a good man by all accounts.
Drake stepped back as if some unseen force had pushed
him. “Jameson,” he whispered.
All I could say was, “I have something to tell you.”
Heaven help me.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Four
I walked out of Jameson’s room like a zombie. I wasn’t
even sure what I had read to him. I think it was something
dinosaur related. All I knew was Drake was waiting in the
parlor for me and I had to tell him what he already knew. It
didn’t take a genius to guess.
Izzy was curled up in one of the old wingback chairs that
sat in front of the only woodburning fireplace left at the inn.
We lovingly called this place on the lower floor of the inn,
the owner’s suite. Eventually, when there was hopefully
more money to go around, we would renovate the cottage
behind the property near the pond and gazebo and move in
there. Then we would turn this space into a family suite for
guests. But that was going to be a while. Our budget was
already tight.
Much like the rest of the inn, this space was out of date
with its faded floral wallpaper. But there was a certain
charm to the cozy space once inhabited by George and
Daisy.
Izzy popped up as soon as she saw me. “You okay?”
“Not really.” I gripped the other wingback chair, feeling
as if my knees might buckle.
“I’m sorry I told Drake and Martez to use the back
entrance,” Izzy cried.
“It’s not your fault. I was going to tell him. I just thought
I had a little more time. Did you see how furious he looked?”
Izzy bit her lip and nodded. “But this is a good thing.”
 “How do you figure?”
“Oh, honey, hard truths are the best truths.”
“Where do read this stuff?” I half-heartedly teased.
“Grandma’s old Reader’s Digests.” She giggled.
“That explains a lot.”
“You got this, Char. There will be no more wondering. No
more guilt. It’s Independence Day for you.”
“It feels more like a sentencing hearing.”
“I understand that, but this is for the best.”
I wasn’t sure I believed that, but I didn’t argue with her.
“I better get out there.” Even though it was the last thing I
wanted to do. I didn’t need him marching in here.
“I’ll wait up.” Izzy placed her hand over mine and
squeezed.
“Thank you,” I said, almost inaudibly, before I turned
toward the door near the small kitchen. I shuffled all the
way out, looking at my pink polka-dotted socks. They went
well with my oversized sweatshirt and leggings. I wasn’t
winning any beauty contests, I’ll tell you that. At least I
wasn’t covered in white goo anymore.
I walked into the lobby area to find Drake pacing outside
the parlor like a caged tiger.
I’d seen him like this once before, when some twit
journalist, looking to make a name for himself, made up a
totally fake story about Drake being a drug dealer and
owing millions in back taxes. It was so bizarre and
fabricated, but that hadn’t stopped some major outlets from
running the trash piece. It was eventually all sorted out and
the journalist lost his job, but for days Drake paced the way
he was now, swearing under his breath and running his
fingers through his hair on repeat, when he wasn’t yelling at
his lawyers to fix it already.
I wondered if Drake would be calling his lawyers about
this. I swallowed hard. Surely, he wouldn’t sue me for
custody, right?
Drake was alerted to my presence. His head snapped
up, and he hit me with an icy glare that made me freeze in
place.
I hugged my midsection.
“When were you going to tell me, Charlotte?” he
seethed.
Though I knew I was in the wrong, the ire in me flared.
“When you called me back. Oh wait, you didn’t. I got a
dismissive text instead,” I threw at him.
His mouth fell open, but he quickly recovered. “We
obviously had more to say to each other. How could you
keep this from me?” he raised his voice.
I closed my tear-filled eyes. “I’m sorry. I wanted to tell
you. I even tried to, but after everything we’d been through,
you didn’t even have the decency to answer my calls.” I
opened my eyes to find his stubbled cheeks turning
crimson. “You made it clear I was a mistake. I wasn’t going
to give you the opportunity to feel that way about my son.”
He rubbed his hands over his face, shaking his head as
he went. He began pacing again and paced right into the
parlor.
 I followed him, carefully watching as his head
figuratively exploded. He eventually threw himself onto one
of the new cream couches in the recently updated room.
We’d had some built-in bookshelves added and had stocked
them with several classic novels and some of our favorite
romances. The room smelled heavenly, like a library—and, if
I was honest, Drake. His spicy scent wafted in the air.
I curled up in one of the gray oversized chairs across
from him, wishing I had a blanket to hide under.
He gave me a cold stare. “I can’t believe this. What in
the hell were you thinking, not telling me I had a child?”
“What difference would it have made to you?” I got
defensive. I knew I had screwed up, but I had tried.
“I would have taken responsibility for him.”
“That right there is why I didn’t try harder to tell you.”
He tilted his head, confused.
“Responsibility implies he is a mistake, just like you
thought I was.”
“What do you want me to say?” he spat.
“I want you to say, ‘I would have loved him and wanted
to be a part of his life,’” my voice cracked. “But I think we
both know that’s not what you would have said,” I
whispered.
“We will never know, now will we?” His voice was as
sharp as a blade.
I let out a heartbroken breath while I stood. “I think we
do. Thank you for helping me to know I made the right
choice. Now you can forget about him, like you forgot about
me.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, but he said nothing,
so I turned to leave.
“I never forgot about you, Charlotte. Hell, I’ve tried.”
I stopped and gripped the chair, refusing to face him.
Tears streamed down my face. “Then why did you come
here?”
“Because .  .  . I wanted to remember what it felt like to
be human.”
“Do you feel human now?”
“Always, when I’m with you,” he admitted, almost as if
being human made him weak.
“Great. Good night.”
“I wouldn’t be any good for him or you. You know that,
right?” he blurted.
I didn’t know what to believe anymore. I turned and
faced him. “How would you know? You didn’t even try.”
“For good reason, Charlotte.”
“Oh, I know. I was just your cute, perky assistant, only
good for a weekend fling.”
He jumped up. “You don’t know what the hell you’re
talking about.”
“I know I’m right. The way you looked at me, or wouldn’t
look at me, when we got back to LA said it all. I was a big fat
regret and you used me. But it doesn’t matter. I don’t care
that you thought it was a mistake, because I got the best
thing in my life out of it,” I cried. “And we don’t need you!” I
furiously wiped the tears off my cheek.
He hung his head. “You’re right, you don’t need me.”
“Well, I’m glad we cleared that up.” That was a lie. I was
anything but glad. All these years, and especially today, I
had wanted my Drake to show up. But I’m not sure he ever
existed. Maybe I’d made him up to justify falling in love with
him. Staying in love with him, if I was being honest with
myself. I felt so stupid. It’s not like I had pined for him this
entire time, but there was something between us I couldn’t
explain. Something strong that was hard to let go of.
I turned and marched out.
“Charlotte, please wait.”
I paused at the entryway. “What?”
“Why did you name him Jameson?”
My shoulders rose and fell in disappointment. “That’s all
you want to know about him?”
“No, but I don’t have the right to ask for anything
more.”
That was one thing we could agree on.
“Please, it’s all I ask of you.”
I leaned my head against the wall. The memory of the
night his name came to me was as vivid as it was when it
happened. “Sometimes I felt so alone, wondering if I could
really bring a baby into the world by myself. I would lie in
bed at night and stare at the empty pillow next to me, while
feeling him kick inside of me. I so badly wanted you to be
there to feel him,” I admitted. “So, I would pretend you
were. I would ask you things like, ‘What should we name
him?’ And I swore I heard you, clear as day, say, ‘What do
you think of Jameson?’ So, I responded, ‘I love that idea.’
Then I could see you rest your hand on my abdomen and
smile, while giving me a look that said you’d never been
happier. But then I came to my senses and reminded myself
I was only a mistake to you.” The tears came faster than I
could wipe them.
“Charlotte, I never meant for you to take it that way.”
“It doesn’t matter, does it? It all comes to the same
end.”
“I suppose it does. But I said those things to protect
you.”
I whipped my head toward him. He was standing closer
than I’d realized. Close enough I could see a misty sheen in
his eyes.
“I didn’t want your protection,” my voice hitched.
“What did you want?” Some of his rare emotion bled
through.
“I wanted just the opposite. I wanted you to let go and
expose all of yourself to me. I wanted you to be human. My
human,” I whispered. It was the closest thing to saying I
wanted him to love me like I loved him.
He closed his eyes and clenched his fists. “You would
have come to regret that. And that’s the last thing I
wanted.”
“I don’t believe that. And deep down, I don’t think you
do either. But keep running away from yourself. It’s what
you do best.”
His eyes flew open, fury and anguish swirling in them.
“At least I’m good at something, I guess,” he snapped
before rushing past me, proving he was the best runner
around.
I watched him go, thinking I would be at peace knowing
that not only had I made the right choice to keep Jameson a
secret from him, but that I’d averted another foolish
decision based on a man. Yet all I felt was an incredible loss.
Like I’d just lost a piece of myself. That maybe I’d just made
the biggest mistake of my life in letting him walk away a
second time.
It’s not like I had any grand delusions that Drake was
going to want to change his life and star in a new role as
father and husband. He only played the hero on the big
screen. Not that I needed him to rescue me. I was looking
for more of a partner in crime. Someone who would take me
in his arms at night and tell me I was a good mother, but
still see me as a woman. And he would make me feel all the
womanly things and show me how beautiful I was in his
eyes. Was that too much to ask?
Watching Drake disappear up the refinished spiral
staircase, I was going to say yes.
I slid down the wall, until my head landed on my knees,
and held on to myself. I sobbed and mourned, even berated
myself for allowing any hope to creep in. I’d just thought
that him coming to this place, our place, might have meant
something. But I was wrong. So very wrong.
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Five
I stared at the Mickey Mouse–shaped blueberry
pancakes I had made Jameson for breakfast. I had no idea
why I put some on my plate. Habit, I guess. My stomach was
twisting and turning and had no desire for food, not even for
my beloved morning coffee. That was unfortunate, as I
could have really done with some caffeine. I might have
been lucky to clock two hours of sleep last night.
Izzy squeezed my knee under the table and gave me a
sympathetic smile. She’d saved me from myself last night
when she’d heard me bawling in the hall. She made me
watch hours of videos I’d made of Jameson over the course
of his life. It was a good reminder that my life was good, and
Jameson was its shining star. I’d laughed and cried as I’d
relived him taking his first steps or saying Mama for the first
time. Or when he thought it was a great idea to dump an
entire bag of flour on the floor and play in it. To this day
there was probably some lingering flour in the crevices of
my parents’ kitchen.
I gave Izzy a weak smile and looked past her at the
office where we would eventually check guests in and out. It
sat across from the large dining hall. We’d gotten
accustomed to eating here and cooking in the totally
revamped gourmet kitchen off to the side, hidden by the
serving window and door. I kept looking for Drake to appear
so he could check out. I honestly thought he would have
been gone by now—although it was still dark, despite being
past seven a.m., and a chilly morning of only fifteen
degrees. The long, cold winters were something Izzy and I
were trying to adjust to, given our Florida upbringing and
my stint in California. Thankfully, the wonderful people and
gorgeous mountain scenery helped.
“Mom, are we going to do flash cards?” Jameson
interrupted my thoughts.
I’d started doing sight word flash cards with him when
he was just three years old. Because of it, he was already a
great little reader.
I blinked a few times, trying to formulate a response.
“Um .  .  . of course, baby.” I stood, feeling a bit shaky, and
walked toward the buffet table where I’d left the cards
yesterday.
On my way over, I heard our “guests” on the stairs.
Drake’s deep voice floated in the air. “Meet me in the car,”
he instructed Martez. Soon, I heard his purposeful steps
coming down the hall. I froze and waited for him to appear.
In the meantime, my heart ceased beating and I could no
longer breathe.
Within seconds Drake appeared, carrying his designer
luggage, looking as dapper as ever in an azure button-down
and charcoal slacks. Everything tailored to a T, showing off
his amazing physique. But his eyes were just as red and
gritty as mine. It appeared I wasn’t the only one not getting
much sleep. I’m sure it had been a shock to his system to
learn he had fathered a child. I remembered being stunned
for days after the pregnancy test had turned out positive.
 Drake zeroed in on me.
I leaned against the buffet table for support.
“Do I need to sign anything?” Drake croaked, as if he
hadn’t spoken much this morning.
“No. I reversed the charges on your card, so you’re all
set,” I said stoically, while begging myself not to ask him to
stay. To try.
“What?” Izzy was aghast.
I should have given her a heads-up, but I didn’t want her
to talk me out of it. As much as I wanted the chandelier, I
wasn’t going to let Drake pay for it. Money was the last
thing I ever wanted from him.
Izzy wasn’t the only one unhappy about my decision,
given Drake’s narrowed eyes and furrowed brow.
“Can I speak to you privately?” He was obviously
displeased.
I bit my lip. I kind of thought we had said all we needed
to say to each other last night. And I didn’t want to be alone
with him. He made me feel things I shouldn’t. He’d made his
choice a long time ago and it wasn’t me. And worse, he
wasn’t choosing Jameson. Again, I knew I had sprung that
one on him, but I’d hoped some dad gene would kick in and
he’d get all paternal.
“Please,” Drake added.
“Okay,” I sighed. I turned to Izzy and handed her the
flash cards. “Can you do these with Jameson, please?”
She nodded and gave me a be-very-very-careful-with-
him look. She liked how things had turned out. No guilt for
me and Drake stays out of our lives. It was a good theory.
And I understood why Izzy had her misgivings about Drake.
She’d always thought he’d taken advantage of me, but
believe me, it was a mutual seduction fest that weekend. I
was a full participant in every event. Then there was the
fact that she had been co-parenting Jameson with me.
Poor Izzy could never have any of her own babies, and
oh, how she wanted them. She and her ex, Jared, had tried
everything but adoption, which he was adamantly against. It
was a huge contention point in their marriage. So, when
Jameson came along, she’d poured all of her mothering into
him. She was amazing and I was so grateful for her. I
understood being afraid of having to share Jameson with
Drake. But no one would ever replace Izzy in Jameson’s life.
She was Jameson’s ‘Iz’.
The thing is, being in Drake’s presence again didn’t
have me thanking my lucky stars it hadn’t worked out
between us. I wish I could say that was the case. It would
hurt a whole lot less than feeling the way I did now. As if my
soul were screaming that it was at home with him. I had felt
like that since the first moment we met, during the
interview process. Something just clicked. My heart told me
that day that we were meant to be in each other’s lives. I’d
laughed at myself for thinking such a thing, but the more I
got to know him, the more I knew it was true. We were like a
set that should have never been sold separately, but
somehow, we’d made it back to each other.
 Izzy never understood that. She thought it was purely
physical. There was nothing further from the truth. But I get
why she never believed me. Drake hadn’t exactly treated
me as if I were his soul mate. I mean, he was getting ready
to walk out the door for the rest of my life, just like he had
so easily let me leave over six years ago. It was ridiculous to
think there was anything between us worth holding on to.
With that sobering thought, I motioned for him to follow
me to the office across the hall. All while I promised myself I
wouldn’t be foolish. The writing was on the wall—Drake
didn’t want me or my son. He dropped his luggage in the
hall and followed me.
Once inside, I closed the French doors and stood as far
away from him as possible—against the back wall near the
record player George had wanted to keep here. He’d said
Daisy would want it that way. I played her favorite Dean
Martin albums often.
I folded my arms across my body, trying to comfort
myself. “What do you want?” I spoke in hushed tones.
“Why would you cancel my payment?” Drake spoke
quietly as well, to make sure our conversation was kept
private.
“That’s all you want to know? You could have asked me
that out there.” I rolled my eyes. “Bye, Drake.” I pushed off
the wall with the intent of heading back to my kiddo.
On my way out, he gently grabbed my arm. “Charlotte,
please.” He sounded tired and exasperated.
 “Please, what?” I looked up into his worn and restless
eyes, wondering if he ever missed me. Did he ever wake up
in the middle of the night and reach for me, the way I had
done so many times, only to be left feeling empty? Did he
ever hear my voice, the way I would hear him sometimes
whisper in the dark, “Charlotte, I wish we could stay like this
forever”?
His eyes landed on his hand gripping my arm. Did he
feel that? The invisible connection that bound us together in
a seemingly impossible way.
I wanted to beg him not to be afraid. To not let go, but
that’s exactly what he did.
“I want to make sure you and Jameson are financially
taken care of.”
I shook my head and sighed. “It’s none of your
concern.”
“The hell it isn’t,” he angrily whispered.
“Jameson has never wanted for anything.” I glared at
him.
“I didn’t mean to imply you weren’t taking care of him. I
just—”
“Wanted to ease your conscience?” I finished for him.
He said nothing.
That’s what I thought. “Let me put your conscience at
ease, then. I will always do what it takes to make sure
Jameson’s needs are met, and when I can and I feel like it’s
right, I will meet his wants too. So, sleep well. Goodbye.”
How many times was I going to have to say that? Didn’t he
see how hard it was for me? I just needed him to leave.
Drake waved his hand around the partially finished area.
Izzy had been working on restoring the original check-in
counter, and we were waiting on the carpenter to come
back and finish the trim and crown molding.
“How are you financing all of this?”
“Izzy strips on the side. She really knows how to bring in
the tips.” I smirked.
His lips ticked up a bit before he got all stern again. “I’m
being serious, Charlotte.”
“I am too. You should see the pole we installed in the
ballroom. She’s thinking of doing lessons or online tutorials
on YouTube.”
Drake gave me his signature you-are-frustrating-me-to-
no-end groan. Good. He deserved to be frustrated. But I also
knew he wouldn’t leave until I told him the truth.
“If you must know, I lived with my parents and saved a
lot of money. Then my grandma died last year and left Izzy
and me as her sole beneficiaries.” Well, sort of. My dad was
also her beneficiary. But after all these years, Grandma still
hated my mom for stealing her baby boy away from her, so
she’d made it clear that only my dad could spend the
money. She’d literally called my mom a hussy in her will.
Dad loved Mom so much, he refused to take any of it. So,
Dad had offered it to us and told us to make our dreams
come true. I love that man. Though I wondered if he just
wanted Mom to himself, since Izzy had moved back home,
too, after her divorce. Regardless, his gift was enough, along
with what Izzy got out of her divorce settlement, to
purchase this beautiful money pit.
“How much was your inheritance?”
I blew out enough breath to make my bangs take flight.
“Enough.” I hope. “Are we done now?”
He swallowed hard, like he didn’t know the answer to
that question. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’d like
to help you out. I’ll have my lawyer call you to set up the
transfer.”
“Don’t waste his time. I won’t take your money.”
His face exploded in red. “Why the hell not? I’m trying to
take responsibility.”
There was that word again. “If I wanted you to take
responsibility, I would have made sure you knew a long time
ago.” My eyes started stinging with tears. I waved my hand
in front of my face, trying to stave them off. “I really need
you to leave now.”
“What do you want from me, Charlotte?”
“Nothing,” I lied. “I need to go,” I hurried to say.
“Jameson needs to get to school.” And I needed a good cry.
Drake turned and peeked through the door’s glass to
see Jameson laughing his head off. He had the best laugh.
“Does he ever ask who his father is?” Drake asked, with
a wistfulness I’d never heard from him before.
“Of course. For now, he thinks it’s Uncle Sam,” I
admitted. Izzy was more and more right; I needed to quit
saying that. It was ridiculous. But who would ever believe
Drake Foster, acclaimed actor, sexiest man alive, was his
dad? They would take one look at me, compared to all his
past girlfriends, and probably try to get me committed to
the psych ward.
Drake’s lips twitched for a nanosecond. “What will you
tell him about me?” he begged to know.
“If you’re worried your secret will get out, don’t be. Only
Izzy and my parents know.” Okay, and George, but he’d
guessed, so I wasn’t counting him. “And we made a vow to
never disclose your identity,” I snipped back. Not to protect
Drake, but for Jameson’s sake.
His head whipped my way, his eyes bearing down on
me. “Charlotte, I don’t give a damn who you tell, except for
the firestorm it would create for you. What I want to know, is
what will you tell my . . . son,” he stumbled over the word,
“about me?”
To hear him call Jameson his son did things to my heart.
I rubbed my chest, feeling as if he’d stabbed it with a letter
opener. Ouch. “I’ll tell him the truth when he’s ready,” I
choked out. “I’ll tell him I thought I knew who you were, but
I was wrong,” I cried. “Goodbye, Drake,” I said for the last
time.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Six
“You don’t have to clean the room. I’ll take care of it
after I clean Martez’s room,” Izzy purred his name while
fanning herself.
I gave her a half-smile. “Do you need a moment there?”
She leaned against the door. “It’s been a long time since
I’ve been attracted to anyone other than Jared,” she
stuttered his name. The man had done some serious
damage, leaving her like he had. He wouldn’t even give her
a good reason why, after fifteen years of marriage and
dating all through college. “I thought it was perimenopause,
but good news, mama can still be turned on.”
I laughed softly. I was too tired and mourning too much
to give her the laugh she deserved. “I’m happy for you.
Should we pop a bottle of champagne and toast your
hormones?” I teased.
“We should pop a bottle and celebrate your freedom.
This is a good day for both of us.”
“Yay, us.” I did a lame, half-hearted fist pump.
Izzy reached out and rubbed my arm. “Come on, Char,
you’re better off without him.”
“Yeah,” I whispered.
She pressed her lips together. “He’s not father or
husband material. Do you really want Jameson to grow up
among the Hollywood crowd? You know how fake and
destructive it can be.”
“I know, Izzy. He’s gone. I get it.”
 “I just don’t want to see you get hurt again over the
lousy piece of crap that he is,” she spat.
“I’m fine,” I lied. “I never expected him to choose us.”
That was true, but I’d had some hope. Hope hurts like a
mother.
She gave me a placating I-know-you’re-lying look.
“You’re a terrible liar, but you should be thanking your lucky
stars. Now you get the best of both worlds—Jameson to
yourself and zero guilt over his loser father.”
“He’s not a loser, Izzy.” I don’t know why I was
defending him. Maybe it was the way he had grabbed my
hand as I’d walked away for the last time, his eyes begging
me to save him from himself. There was something about
the way his hand curled around mine. Our searing
connection soldered us together, making it almost
impossible for me to pull away. But pull away I did. I wasn’t
going to beg him to stay. He had to make that choice. And
he chose to walk out the door. Regardless, he wasn’t a loser.
He was lost. There was a difference. Not to say I thought he
did the right thing. Or that I would even welcome him back
into my life with open arms. He’d have to do some major
damage control and perform a couple of miracles before he
could pry my arms open. We’re talking, walking on water
and changing water to wine levels. But the truth was, I’d
given up hope that he wanted to be found. And it wasn’t my
job to find him.
“Any man who walks out on his kid is a loser,” Izzy
countered.
 “You’re right.”
“And, I didn’t want to say anything, but he’s back with
Marissa.” Oh, she totally wanted to say that.
I rubbed my chest where she’d purposefully aimed her
fiery dart. “Not that it’s a surprise, but how do you know
that?”
“I read it online.”
“You know you can’t believe everything on there. A lot
of sites fabricate the truth to get clicks.”
“It’s a trusted source,” she responded curtly.
“Perfect. Mazel tov to him. I’m going to go wash his dirty
sheets now.”
Izzy grabbed my hand. “Honey, I’m sorry. I know I go
big-sister crazy. I just want to protect you.”
“I know, Izzy. And I love you for it, but I’m a big girl, and
it’s over now. Drake is in the rearview mirror and there will
be no looking back.” I might glance, but I was definitely
never staring at it longingly.
She squeezed my hand. “Why don’t you go rest. You
look like the day after my bachelorette party.”
I squirmed just thinking about it. I’d gone head-to-head
with Jodi Baxter in a wicked game of beer pong. Never
again. I’d thought the world would never stop spinning.
Actually, I kind of did feel like that now. Drake’s unexpected
appearance had certainly unhinged my axis.
“I need to do this.” The room was calling to me. It had
happened often since we’d moved in.
 “Okay, honey. Just promise me you’ll finally vanquish his
ghost once and for all.”
“Izzy, it’s not that easy,” I whispered. You don’t stop
loving someone just because you tell your heart to stop.
Believe me, if it were that easy, I would have vanquished
Drake ages ago.
She nodded like she got it. “Love is stupid when you
think about it.”
“How’s that?”
“It’s just a chemical reaction.”
“Uh-huh,” I played along.
“It makes you blind and fail cognitive tests.”
“Did you read that in Reader’s Digest?” I teased.
“It’s a scientific fact, thank you very much.” She flipped
her beautiful tresses.
“Don’t worry, Izzy, I’m not blind to Drake, and I promise
not to fail any cognitive tests. I just need to get over the
sucker punch of him being here. Which, by the way, is your
fault.” I pointed at her.
“I did it for your own good. You’ll thank me one day.”
She smirked.
“Today’s not that day, sister.” I turned on my heels and
headed down the hall to the sound of her laughter. As I
went, I took deep breaths in and out, trying to work up the
courage to enter the infamous honeymoon suite. George
was so right about that night over six years ago—entering
that room had changed my world forever. I would have
never guessed how, but Jameson was the best surprise of
my life. I’d been hoping he would be Drake’s too. I let out a
heavy sigh and reached for the door, determined to start
vanquishing him from my life.
With a surge of courage, I threw open the solid-wood
door and slid in like I was stealing home, shutting it behind
me. Good thing, too, because I faltered when I got a whiff of
Drake’s signature let-me-own-your-body-and-soul scent. I
had to plaster myself against the door and grip the handle.
You can do this, Charlotte.
I scanned the room that looked untouched, as if Drake
hadn’t even stayed here. The silk comforter on the bed had
not even a ripple or wrinkle in it. The only thing different
was that the brass wastebasket near the bed was now filled
with crumpled-up pieces of the inn’s stationery. Curiosity got
the better of me and I tiptoed over, trying not to get trapped
in the memories of what had taken place in the room years
ago. I was losing the battle, as my mind began to play the
tender scenes of days gone by.
The fireplace ensnared me. Not only did we share our
first kiss in front of it, but that entire night we stayed right
there. He held me while we ate and talked and laughed. We
didn’t make love that night. It was something even more
intimate. Drake wanted to know everything about me, from
all my dance recitals to why I chose my degree in event
planning and management. It was as if I couldn’t tell him
enough. Then, after I’d taken a shower the next morning, I
came out of the bathroom and Drake did something for me
no man had ever done. He brushed my hair. I know it
sounds silly, but there was something so touching and
evocative about it. That led us to the bed, where Drake was
gentle and generous. We stayed there for the rest of the
weekend.
I stared at the four-poster beauty where Drake had
whispered that he wished we could stay forever, just the
two of us. He didn’t answer his phone once that weekend,
even though he was missing important meetings. How quick
he was to change his tune.
I needed to remember that. I shook my head, forcing all
the beautiful memories out. I marched toward the
wastebasket, almost filled to the brim with crumpled-up
papers. I assumed Drake was working on lines. Sometimes if
he was having difficulty memorizing particular lines, he
would write them out.
Hesitantly, I sat on the bed, made up with the same
bedding Drake and I had gotten cozy in six years ago. I
really needed to get rid of it. We were going to update the
room anyway. Yes, yes, I would throw it away instead of
laundering it. Baby steps. Yet, I found myself running my
hand over the smooth silk, remembering how it felt against
my skin.
Stop, Charlotte. Please, stop, I begged myself. I focused
on the trash can, thinking I should probably just leave the
crumpled papers alone. Yet, they called to me, and like the
fool I was, I answered. I plucked the first balled-up paper
from the top and tried to straighten it out to see what Drake
had scribbled on it. He should have been a doctor for how
terrible his handwriting was. Have no fear though, I was able
to perfectly decipher the handwritten note, or partial note,
for better or for worse.
My pulse raced just reading the first line: Dear
Charlotte.
I swallowed down my heart before digesting the rest.
There wasn’t much.
Staying in this room, I feel all too human. You make me
want to . . .
That was it. I desperately wanted to know what I made
him want to do. I grabbed a few more crumpled papers to
see if he’d finished his thought. Maybe this was just the
rough draft.
The next note was almost as short, but not so sweet.
Charlotte, why in the hell would you keep something like
this from me? Do you know . . .
Did I know what? This was maddening. I uncrumpled the
next note.
Dear Charlotte, I can’t sleep for thinking about you. That
night we stayed here together, it was the best . . .
The best what? Night of his life? Sex? What??? Why
couldn’t he finish a thought? It was so like him. He never
wanted to be too “human.” Have some actual feelings.
Except for that weekend. He was very human, and I’d
reveled in every second of it. No one had ever watched out
for me the way he had. Not even Izzy, though I would never
say that to her. And it wasn’t just that weekend. He had
been an amazing boss. Even though I was his assistant, he’d
always made sure I was taken care of. If I got cold on set, he
had someone bring me a jacket. If I said, “I could really go
for some fries right now,” guess who got fries? He even kept
tampons in the glove compartment of all his cars just for
me. Just like I would keep his favorite snacks and some Advil
for him in my purse. We took care of each other.
I smoothed out the next note.
Dear Charlotte, Tell me what the hell I should do.
I had some suggestions.
The next note was filled with all his favorite four-letter
words. I had to smile as I read them all with exclamation
points and everything.
The next one wasn’t at all comical.
Charlotte, I’ve never been as livid with anyone as I am
with you right now. What were you thinking?
He scratched a line through his angry words, but I felt
them all the same.
I’ll tell you what I was thinking. I was scared and had
never felt so lonely or vulnerable. My heart couldn’t stand
one more rejection from him. But I know I should have told
him about Jameson. I should have been more courageous
and given Drake the chance to deliver the final blow to my
heart and soul just like he had this morning. Maybe if I had
done so long ago, I wouldn’t be sitting in this room
mourning him. And if he thought he was livid, well, I wasn’t
exactly happy with him either. He was so much better than
he’d proven today.
 I lay back and grabbed another note. It was the shortest
of the bunch but packed the biggest punch.
Dear Charlotte, I’m sorry.
I held the note to my chest, while a few tears leaked out
of my tired eyes. So much for me vanquishing him today.
Dang him.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Seven
Jameson snuggled into my side while I read him some
Dr. Seuss. I tried to be chipper while reading about green
eggs and ham, but it had been an exhaustingly long day.
Although, Jameson’s snuggles gave me a boost. I kissed his
head while I turned the page. His sandy-brown curls were a
good reminder that despite Drake’s choice, he’d given me
Jameson, and I would be forever grateful to the idiot. Hate
him, sure, but super thankful. Well, I wish I could hate him. I
was trying to. Maybe it was the stage that came after
mourning. Something to look forward to.
“Mom, are you sad?” Jameson had always been good at
reading my mood. Too good.
“A little.” I always tried to be honest with him. You know,
except for the whole firework and Uncle Sam thing.
“Do you miss your friend?”
I smoothed his brow. “What friend?”
“The man who stayed here and made you cry.”
I should have been better about reining in my emotions
this morning, especially around Jameson.
“Is that why you were crying? Because you’re sad he
left?” Jameson added.
“Yes,” I answered truthfully. I was sad he left. Sad he
didn’t even try to get to know our son. Sadder that he didn’t
try, period. He couldn’t even finish a note to me.
“Maybe he’ll come back.” Jameson sounded hopeful on
my behalf.
 Oh. Knife in the heart, kiddo. “I don’t think so.” How was
I ever going to tell my baby, that man is his father? The
tears were back. Maybe I could hate Drake. I knew there
would come a day when I would have to break my son’s
heart. When I told him his father didn’t want to be a part of
his life. That he was too chicken to be human.
“You could call him,” Jameson said so innocently.
I could actually call him. In one of the notes he’d left, he
said he kept his number all these years just in case I
decided to call again. He wrote, I promised myself if you
ever called again, I wouldn’t be such a prick and I would
answer the damn phone. It was the longest of his notes. But
just like the others, it was crumpled up, which meant he
didn’t truly want me to call him. Not like I would. I wasn’t
going to beg him to try.
“It’s okay. Sometimes, we have to say goodbye to our
friends.” I hated to break it to him.
“Like Lila,” he said her name with such disgust.
“What did Lila do?” Lila was a cute girl in his class.
“She said she wanted to skate with me and hold hands.”
Once a month the school had a skate night at the local
rink, which was more like an eighties museum, complete
with strobe lights and old arcade games like PAC-MAN and
Donkey Kong.
I giggled at my son. “You hold hands with me when we
skate.”
“You’re my mom. I’m not going to hold a girl’s hand.
Then she’ll want to kiss me.”
 I liked his train of thought. Yep, nip Lila in the bud. “You
don’t have to skate with her, but please be nice to her.”
Every girl deserved that.
“As long as she doesn’t kiss me.”
“I want you to be even nicer to her if she kisses you. Just
don’t kiss her back. Okay?”
“No way.”
That’s what I liked to hear. I snuggled him closer. “I love
you, Jameson. You are the very best thing that has ever
happened to me.”
“I’ll be your friend,” he responded ever so sweetly,
melting my aching heart.
“Thank you. You are my bestest bud.”
“So can I stay up late?” Oh, this kid, always looking for
the angle.
“No.” I laughed.
“Aw, man.”
I kissed his head before crawling out of his treehouse
bunk bed. He was still upset that I wouldn’t let him sleep on
the top bunk. Maybe I was a tad overprotective. I pulled his
plaid comforter up and tucked him in, taking a moment to
look him over. I silently thanked God for him, before kissing
his nose. “Good night. Love you.”
“I love you, Mommy.”
I loved it when he called me Mommy. He rarely did now,
so I treasured it even more.
With a partially mended heart, thanks to my son, I
turned off his light and headed out to the living room where
Izzy had promised me a chick flick and some spiked hot
chocolate. Normally we would work after I put Jameson to
bed, but after two nights of no sleep, I was going to be lucky
if I made it through the movie, Never Been Kissed. It was
Izzy’s fave.
Izzy was already set up on the couch, with a big bowl of
popcorn and two steaming mugs of hot chocolate. Or maybe
hot bourbon. Holy hangover, it smelled like a distillery.
I plopped down next to her. “You realize I have to get up
in the morning and take care of a child, right?”
“Of course, which is why the mug on the right is for you.
It’s the mommy version. Me, on the other hand.” She
grabbed the huge blue mug. “This is the middle-aged I-
think-my-boobs-are-starting-to-sag version.”
I snickered. “Your boobs are fine. Totally perky.”
She puffed out her chest. “I’m wearing a push-up bra.
You should see them when I take this bad boy off, which I’m
totally doing now by the way. The girls need to be set free.”
I grabbed my hot chocolate. “Do what you got to do.”
My bra had come off a long time ago. It was the beauty of
dressing in oversized sweatshirts half the time.
Izzy went to work under her shirt and pulled her bra out.
Or as Jameson called them, breast blankets. Poor kid had
seen his fair share of bras, living with two women. Izzy and I
tried to be good about teaching him proper names for all
body parts. When he was three, he’d asked me if I had a
penis too. When I told him I had a vagina, for days he would
tell everyone he met that lovely piece of information. Good
times.
We settled in on the leather couch, sipping hot
chocolate and watching Drew Barrymore make a fool out of
herself. It was part of the charm of the movie, as cringey as
it was. The part that always got to me, though, was the way
she described “the kiss.” The kiss that says you never want
to kiss another person. The kiss that makes you so
inexplicably happy, yet so afraid it won’t last. I’d had that
kiss. And I’d lost it. I wanted to yell at the screen and tell
Drew to run off the baseball field. Don’t wait for the kiss. I
bet if there were a sequel, you’d find out that Michael
Vartan had dumped her. Ugh. I chugged my hot chocolate.
Oh, it burned my throat and not because it was hot. I set the
mug down on the coffee table. That was definitely not a
mommy drink.
Meanwhile, Izzy was going to town on her midlife-boob-
crisis drink.
“You might want to slow down there,” I suggested.
“Why? I’m not driving.” She stared down at her chest.
“Do you think Jared left me because of my boobs?” she
whined.
“No, Izzy. He left you because he’s an idiot.” I grabbed
her drink and put it next to mine. A tipsy Izzy was an
emotional Izzy.
She rested her head on my shoulder. “Men suck.”
I leaned my head against hers. “Amen.”
 It didn’t take long before my eyes became heavy and
blessed sleep overcame me. I couldn’t tell you how many
times Izzy and I had fallen asleep like that in the past six
years. We were like each other’s emotional support animals.
I know Izzy had a hard time sleeping in her bed. It felt too
empty. For me, it was a lot of sleepless nights worrying
about Jameson. I think I stared at him for days on end when
he was born, making sure he was breathing. Even now, I
sometimes checked on him in the middle of the night.
Not tonight, though. I was exhausted.
I don’t know how long I had been asleep, but I woke up
to a pounding noise. Or maybe I dreamed it. I blinked a few
times and noticed the TV was a big blue screen. So, it
wasn’t the movie. Next to me, Izzy was curled into a ball,
covered in an old patchwork quilt.
I snuggled farther under the afghan I assumed Izzy had
placed on me and closed my eyes. I must have dreamed the
sound.
Within seconds the pounding was back with a
vengeance. I popped up on high alert. “Izzy, do you hear
that?”
She was dead to the world. No more booze for her.
When I was awake enough, I realized it was someone
knocking on a door. I grabbed my phone and tiptoed toward
our suite’s entrance. The pounding sounded louder from
there. I cracked open the door and listened more closely.
A voice accompanied the sound now. A voice I never
thought I would hear again. I stopped breathing.
 “Charlotte,” Drake called my name while knocking like
he was trying to wake the dead.
I looked at the time. It was eleven. Wow, Izzy and I really
knew how to party it up. I would have sworn it was about
two in the morning. But my problem wasn’t that I had
become old. My problem was that Drake was at my door
and I couldn’t breathe. We’d said the final goodbye. He
wasn’t allowed to go back on that.
“Charlotte, please open the door,” he pleaded.
I pinched myself to make sure I truly wasn’t dreaming.
Ouch. Yep, it was real life all right. Painful. I crept toward the
door, wondering what I should do. All I knew was that I
didn’t want him to wake up Jameson, or Izzy for that matter.
No telling what she might do or say after all the “hot
chocolate” she’d consumed. Not that there was any love
lost between them. Izzy had always been perfectly clear
where she stood on Drake. Once, she’d visited me in LA and
had point-blank told Drake she didn’t care for him and she
thought he could do with a few acting lessons. I was
mortified. Drake had taken the high road and said nothing in
return, other than, “I would be happy to upgrade your return
ticket to first class.” That was his way of saying, Don’t let
the door hit you on the way out.
Drake continued to pound on the door separating us. It
felt more like he was beating on my heart.
I could see him clearly now through the window in the
door. The snow was coming down, as per usual this time of
year.
 I stopped a few feet from the door and outright gawked
at him. Was this real? I thought he’d be back in LA now, or
wherever he was going. I hadn’t asked. I noticed poor
Martez behind his boss, blowing into his bare hands. It gave
me the courage to take the last few steps and unlock the
door. I couldn’t, in good conscience, let his assistant freeze
to death. He was too pretty, and the only reason Izzy
wouldn’t go ballistic if she woke up.
I opened the door and was hit with an icy blast, though
Drake’s gaze was making me feel quite heated.
“What are you doing here?” was all I could manage to
ask—even that sounded breathy.
Drake ran a hand through his hair and blew out a heavy
breath that billowed in the frigid air. “I don’t know.”
“Oh. Well, thanks for clearing that up.” I went to shut
the door. I was freezing, and this was too confusing for this
time of night, especially after the hot chocolate I’d
consumed.
Drake placed his hand on the door to keep it open.
“We’re staying.”
“I’m sorry, but we don’t have the proper permits yet to
have guests.” And I’d said my goodbyes. I’d even thrown
away the bedding. I’d bawled my eyes out doing it, but that
was neither here nor there.
Drake stepped in, uninvited. “I’m not staying as a
guest.”
I wrapped my arms around myself, shivering, and not
from the cold. “Then why are you here?” My voice hitched
unnaturally.
“Because”—he swallowed hard—“this is where you and
Jameson are.”
I had zero words. Even my thoughts were
discombobulated. The only thing I did know was that when
Izzy woke up in the morning, she was going to really wish
she hadn’t drunk all that hot chocolate. Her hangover
headache was going to have nothing on the headache
staring right at me, his eyes begging me to let him stay.
There was a better-than-average chance I was about to
make another foolish decision, and wouldn’t you know it, a
man was involved.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Eight
My eyes darted between the fire and Drake, only
because staring straight at him seemed creepy. I couldn’t
believe he was here. Martez had already gone to bed in the
Westley and Buttercup room. He was obviously
uncomfortable and had skedaddled almost as soon as I had
let them in. I kept wondering what I would have done if I
were still Drake’s assistant and he’d just found out he had a
secret child. You know, after wanting to claw his old lover’s
eyes out. I’m sure Martez was probably simultaneously
dreading and preparing for the possibility that the best
secret of my life was going to be discovered. It made my
stomach clench.
Drake and I settled in the parlor. I say settled, but I
wasn’t the least bit comfortable. I was curled up in the
oversized chair, and Drake had taken the couch. He
switched from scrubbing a hand over his stubbled face to
leaning over and gripping his legs as if he wanted to vomit.
Perhaps he was feeling too human and it overwhelmed
him.
“I thought you would be back in LA by now,” I braved
saying into the heavy silence.
Drake tipped up his beautiful head and met my eyes. “I
wasn’t heading back to LA. I was meeting the director and
production team for the new Kaden Chandler film in Jackson
Hole for some pre-pro and skiing.”
 That was Hollywood talk for preproduction. It involved
anything from securing locations and permits to arranging
equipment rentals.
“You’re filming there again?”
“And possibly here in Fair Hollow.”
I grabbed my throat. “Oh, that’s close.” Not like Jackson
Hole wasn’t close, but it was on the other side of the
mountain, and no one knew me or Jameson there.
“Yes, it threatens your secret,” he hissed.
“He’s not a secret. He’s a child. My child.”
“Our child, Charlotte. One you should have told me
about a long time ago,” he snapped.
“I know that, but you didn’t exactly make it easy.”
He leaned back against the couch. “I know.”
“Drake, why are you really here?”
He rubbed his temples. “Charlotte,” he sighed. “You . . .
you . . .”
“I what?”
He spluttered some more. It was like reading his notes
earlier today—maddening.
“Just spit it out,” I begged.
“You infuriate me,” he spat.
“I infuriate you?” I pointed at my chest. “What did I ever
do to you?” You know, besides keep his son a secret from
him. Other than that, I had been pretty amazing to him, if I
do say so myself.
He stood and paced. “You made me feel,” he growled.
“I’m so sorry.” I oozed sarcasm.
 “You could never leave well enough alone.” He threw his
hands up in the air. “No. You had to push and push, making
me believe I could be someone I’m not.”
“Do you want me to apologize?”
“No, I want you to realize I was never the man you
wanted or needed me to be,” he said flatly.
“Then why are you here?” I cried.
He threw himself back on the couch and let out a heavy
breath. “Because, for six years I’ve tried to get you out of
my head, and I can’t. Because . . . I want to be the man you
saw in me,” he admitted, though it sounded painful.
I held my stomach, telling the butterflies to knock off
the twerking. Apparently, they’d moved on from lap
dancing. We were no longer making poor choices. For crying
out loud, the man had made love to me and then ignored
me. And his track record with women wasn’t anything to
write home about. So, I stood on shaky legs and swallowed
down all the things my heart wanted to say and went with
my head. “Let’s get something straight, Drake.” I used the
most intimidating voice I could muster, which, let’s be real,
wouldn’t scare a mouse. “No one is saying I want you or
need you.” No one wasn’t saying it either.
Drake blinked a few times, like he didn’t hear me right
or couldn’t believe what I was saying.
“That’s right,” I added, like I was tough or something.
Really, I was a cream puff. “But the fact remains that you
are Jameson’s father, so you can stay here. Just know, what
I say goes when it comes to him. He will not know who you
are until you can prove to me that you plan to stick around
and be part of his life. If you knowingly hurt him, I will . . . I
will . . .” My tough act was fizzling quickly.
“You’ll what?” He raised that dang brow of his with so
much freaking sex appeal.
“I don’t know, but it won’t be pleasant.” I hugged
myself. “Drake,” I whispered. “Jameson is my world. And he
doesn’t deserve for you to try him on like a pair of jeans to
see if he’s a good fit for you. There is no trying here. You
either decide you want to be his dad or not. You’re either all
in or all out. Do you understand?” I begged for him to get
what I was trying to say.
It took him a hot minute to think about it, making my
heart pump harder than was healthy. If he rejected Jameson,
then he truly wasn’t the man I thought he was. And that
thought hurt in the depths of my soul.
He finally nodded, making me internally sigh with relief.
“Okay. I’ll find some bedding for you. You’ll have to stay
in the honeymoon suite again.” I turned on my heels, still
not believing this was happening.
“Charlotte,” he said my name like it meant something to
him. Like I meant something to him.
“Yes.” I didn’t dare turn and look at him.
“I would also like to make a couple of things clear.”
“What is that?” I snipped. He had no right to make any
demands here.
“First, you and I will have words about why you didn’t
tell me that I had a son.”
 Okay, fine. I would give him that one. Though I wasn’t
sure how much more we could say about it. I didn’t tell him,
end of story.
“I’m not sure I’ve ever been so livid with anyone in my
life. And that’s saying something,” he snapped.
Oh, it was. I’d seen him lose his cool with people before.
Hot shame consumed me, like a child in trouble. I knew it
wasn’t something I should have kept from him, regardless of
how he’d ignored me. I was glad I wasn’t looking at him, as
tears filled my eyes and spilled over.
“Second, I know you want me.”
I whipped around to find him ready for me with a smug,
dampened smile. “You don’t know what you’re talking
about.” I wiped the tears off my cheeks.
He stood and sauntered my way until we were sharing
the same space. Until I could breathe in his moody, spicy
scent. I wanted to turn and run, but his gaze owned me.
Made me feel things I shouldn’t. He was right about me
wanting him. Oh, so right, but that was none of his business.
He reached up and wiped a traitorous tear off my cheek.
He’d done the same thing the night of our first kiss. His kiss
had been so sweet and tender, it had made me cry. I’d felt
ridiculous, but when he wiped away my tears, he’d told me
how he had longed to take me in his arms and kiss me. How
unworthy he felt to do such a thing to me. His touch now
invoked some of those same feelings, sending a toe-curling
shiver straight through me.
 “I see it in your eyes, Charlotte. And one day, we will
talk about that too.” He strode past me like he hadn’t just
upended my world. I had no idea what to think, or even if I
could. But all I knew was that poor Izzy was really going to
wish she hadn’t drunk the middle-aged I-think-my-boobs-
are-starting-to-sag drink. Her boobs were going to be the
least of her concerns come morning.
~*~
“Here you go,” I sang, with an unnaturally chipper
cadence as I placed a huge cinnamon roll, dripping with
cream cheese icing, on Izzy’s plate. Since there was no
sleeping again, I had decided to make Izzy’s favorite
breakfast.
She glared at me, while rubbing her pounding head.
She’d about had an aneurysm when I told her about our
guests. I think her exact words were, “Please tell me I’ve
died and this is hell.”
My response: “Sorry, you’re alive and in hell. Good
news, we arrived together.”
At least she was a bit excited that Martez the Latin god
was staying here.
“I need more Advil before you can be that cheerful,” she
snarled.
“Smile for Jameson,” I said under my breath.
This was going to be quite the day for him . . . and me. I
would be introducing him to my “friend.” I prayed all night
that Drake wouldn’t disappoint me. That he would show up
for Jameson in a big way. Although Drake had admitted last
night that he knew nothing about children. I hadn’t, either,
but I’d figured it out. Really, I was still figuring it out.
Jameson was ever evolving.
She smiled at Jameson, who couldn’t shove his
cinnamon roll in his mouth fast enough, and then she curled
her lip at me like a snarling dog.
I petted her head. “Now, be a good girl.”
She couldn’t help but giggle, albeit a very tiny giggle.
I set the pan of cinnamon rolls in front of her, to remind
her what she would be missing out on for the rest of her life
if she offed me. She glared at the pan, as if she knew my
plan and wasn’t going to be swayed by ten thousand
beautiful calories, but then she begrudgingly took a bite. I
knew I had her when she closed her eyes and let the
cinnamon roll soothe her soul. When she dreamily sighed, I
was almost sure I’d live another day. Well, maybe.
Our two guests appeared, dressed like they were
headed to the office in button-down shirts and dress pants.
Perhaps they were going out somewhere, which didn’t make
me feel all warm and fuzzy. I needed Drake to keep a low
profile while he was staying here. We are talking
subterranean, you-need-a-retinal-scanner-to-gain-entry low.
Izzy squeezed my knee like the rockstar big sister she
was. Regardless of how unhappy she was with me, she knew
how incredibly difficult it was going to be for me to have
Drake here. And what this could mean for the rest of
Jameson’s and my life.
 Drake and I locked eyes. His tired peepers were asking
me what he should do. That was a good question. This was a
new one for me.
“Good morning,” I croaked.
“Good morning,” Drake returned.
Jameson eyed our guests before he broke out in a smile.
“See, Mom, I told you your friend would come back.”
Drake gave me an inquisitive glance before setting his
sights on Jameson.
“He did come back.” I stood, full of nervous energy.
“Would you like to sit down and eat?” I offered Drake and
Martez.
“Yes, please.” Martez zoomed toward an empty chair
near Izzy.
Izzy blushed while she adjusted her ponytail.
Drake stood as if frozen, still staring at Jameson, who
was staring right back at him as if he might almost
recognize him. Did he on some level?
I supposed I should introduce them. “Jameson, this is my
friend Drake. He’s going to stay with us for a few days.” At
least I thought so. Drake never said for sure how long he
was staying. “Drake, this is Jameson, my son.” Our son.
Drake still behaved as if he were paralyzed. He wasn’t
even blinking. Thankfully, Jameson was able to function
normally. “Hi . . . I hope you don’t make my mom cry again.”
Okay, so maybe I wasn’t thankful.
My cheeks burned while I cringed.
 At least it made Drake come back to life. He cleared his
throat. “I’ll try my best,” he stammered, which was not like
him at all. He was usually the debonair poster boy.
Jameson shrugged and shoved another large piece of
cinnamon roll in his mouth.
Drake still stood as if unsure how to proceed.
“Sit down,” I mouthed. He was acting like a freak.
Drake skirted around Jameson like he was diseased or
something and sat as far away from him as he could at the
long farmhouse table. When he sat down, he breathed out
like he was safe.
I rolled my eyes.
“Well, isn’t this cozy,” Izzy snarled, giving Drake the evil
eye. She changed her tune when she pushed the pan of
cinnamon rolls toward Martez and placed an extra plate and
fork in front of him. “Help yourself.”
Martez eagerly dished a large cinnamon roll onto his
plate. “Thank you. This looks amazing.”
“Char is the best little baker around,” Izzy bragged on
me.
“That’s what I hear. No one has been able to live up to
her reputation,” he half grumbled.
Drake narrowed his eyes at Martez, obviously not
appreciating Martez’s tone. To be honest, I didn’t either. It
didn’t matter how attractive he was or that Izzy was ogling
him. It wasn’t my fault he had issues with his boss.
Martez must have realized he’d made a faux pax, as he
cleared his throat, his cheeks pinking. “Sorry, Mr. Foster,” he
groveled.
No wonder the man felt salty toward me. No grown man
should have to call their boss Mr. anything.
“You can call him Drake,” I interceded on the poor man’s
behalf.
Drake’s brow popped with a look that said, Excuse me?
I wasn’t afraid of him in the least. Nor did I mind sticking
my nose in his business. “You’re being ridiculous. When
have you ever gone by Mr. Foster?” I challenged him.
“Things change, Charlotte.” He sounded none too happy
with me for butting into his business. Well, we had a child
together and he knew me in ways no one else did, so I was
going to butt myself right on in. Drake was the best boss I’d
ever had, and I wasn’t just saying that because I was in love
with him. He had always been fair—you know, until he slept
with me and then basically ignored me, but who was I to
judge? Okay, I had every right to, but I couldn’t go down
that road at the moment.
“That means they can change back.” I smirked, before
turning toward Martez, who was inhaling his cinnamon roll.
A look of pure ecstasy encompassed him. “From now on, it’s
Drake,” I instructed him.
Martez dropped his fork, making it clink against his
plate. His focus was solely on his boss, who was glaring at
me. “I don’t mind,” he began to stutter. In the stutter I
heard that he totally did mind.
“It’s okay to be human,” I reminded Drake, when he said
nothing to contradict Martez.
 Drake let out a sigh a mile long. “Fine. You win.”
“Great.” I popped up. “My work here is done. Jameson,
it’s time to brush your teeth and head to school.”
Jameson shoved the last large bite in his mouth before
pushing his chair back and standing up.
Drake looked between Jameson and me as if he weren’t
sure what to do. I knew one thing—he wasn’t going to go
with us. The last thing I needed was to be seen with the
megastar. Besides, he needed to prove himself worthy of
being Jameson’s dad before he was cleared to drop my baby
off at school, or anywhere for that matter.
“I’ll be right back,” I let Drake know.
He nodded. “Good. We have a lot to talk about.” He
sounded like an angry elf.
“Great. I can’t wait.” That was a lie. A big fat lie.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Nine
Jameson and I jammed out to The Killers on the way to
school. “Jenny Was a Friend of Mine” was a favorite. It was a
seriously proud moment each time Jameson banged his
head against his booster seat and yelled “Jenny was a friend
of mine” like he really meant it. I couldn’t wait until the day
he was old enough to go to concerts. Except by then, he
probably wouldn’t want to be seen with me. He would be
more amenable to the Lilas of the world. So, maybe I would
still let him believe in the firework theory.
After we finished out the song strong, Jameson raised up
his hands like he was going to preach a sermon and yelled,
“Rock on!”
Oh, how I love my kid. Mine and Drake’s kid. My
stomach twisted knowing Drake was at the inn waiting for
my return. I was even more anxious knowing someday I had
to tell Jameson the truth. What had I done?
I focused on the road. It was snowing. Again. It was
pretty much an everyday occurrence this time of year. I
would like to say I loved the snow, but I was still trying to
come to terms with the icy flecks hitting my windshield and
the white-knuckle driving. Although, I should love them both
considering they were the reason for Jameson’s existence.
You know, that, and me not listening to Izzy. We both had
agreed it was a good thing. Jameson was worth it all, even
the uncomfortable moments in my very near future. Which
begged the question, “What do you think of Drake?” I asked
Jameson.
He looked at me through the rearview mirror and
shrugged. “He’s grumpy.”
I laughed. “He can be.” We were going to have to work
on that. Among other things.
I carefully turned onto the street where Fair Hollow
Elementary resided. A line of cars already flowed out of the
parking lot of the new school. It surprisingly had some
modern architecture going for it with an angular roof and tall
windows, which allowed the sunlight in—that is, when the
sun was actually shining. Don’t get me wrong, come spring
and summer, the sun would be out in all her glory. Even
now, when she showed up, she made everything glisten in
the snow. I just wished she would warm things up a bit
more. This Florida girl missed her mild winters. Yet, my heart
belonged here. That I knew. Even from that very first
weekend, this place—especially the inn—called to me.
When it was almost Jameson’s turn to be dropped off, I
turned and gave him my normal morning speech. “You are
smart, you are clever, you are oh so handsome. Use your
powers for good and not evil. Don’t kiss any girls.” I added
that last part after our conversation about Lila.
He scrunched his face. “Ew.”
That was the exact response I wanted, knowing full well
one day his response to that statement would make me
want to say “Ew.”
“I love you, J man. Make good choices today.”
 He straightened the beanie on his head. His curls
peeked out, just above his ears. I was such a sucker for the
curls.
“Love you. You make good choices too.” He always said
that, but today it felt like I should really listen.
“I’ll try.” Even though I wasn’t exactly sure what the
best choices were.
One of the teachers on duty opened the car door and
Jameson hopped out with his backpack. Every time I
watched him go, it tugged on my heart. Especially today.
When he stopped and waved at me with his mittened hand,
I smiled and took it all in, even as the guilt crept in. Would
my little boy hate me for keeping his father a secret from
him? The thought paralyzed me. So much so that a car
behind me honked. As embarrassing as it was, it got me out
of my head for the moment.
The drive home was another story. I could deal with
Drake hating me, but the thought of Jameson hating me was
too much. He was a part of me. The best part of me. If the
best part of me actually hated me, where did that leave me?
I blankly stared at the windshield wipers going back and
forth, back and forth at each stoplight, contemplating the
horrid possibility that Jameson would think less of me. Or
that he could end up loving Drake more than me. I mean,
the man was rich and famous. We’re talking mansions
around the world, pools, sports cars, an indoor basketball
court, and who knew what else. How was I going to compete
with that?
 Why did Drake have to reappear in my life? I knew
George would say, “Because it was written in the stars.” All
these years George had been adamant Drake would return.
That the inn would call to him too. He’d said it was no
accident that we had been stuck there. He truly believed in
the inn’s magic, but that it only worked for true soul mates,
which he believed Drake and me to be. Once upon a time, I
believed that too. But we’d made our choices. And now I
had to own my very foolish one of keeping the truth from
my son and his father.
I parked in the small lot on the side of the inn nearest
the “church.” I felt like I needed a priest to help soothe my
troubled soul. Maybe we should keep one on staff—you
know, for emergency purposes. I would bring it up with Izzy,
who was probably about ready to throttle me for leaving her
there with Drake. Not like she needed to entertain him.
Although she probably wouldn’t mind keeping Martez
company.
I stood outside my beloved inn and let the snow land on
my cheeks while I shivered in the cold. I took in the majesty
of the old place. There truly was something magical about
it. Sometimes I swore I could see stardust floating in the air
around it. I knew how silly it sounded, but honestly, the
place twinkled, even when it wasn’t covered in snow like it
was now. Love lived in every brick and stone that it was built
from. I don’t know how I knew that, but it was obvious.
George would say it was a place where love comes to stay. I
wasn’t so sure about that.
 I trudged inside, the snow muffling the sound of my
footfalls. I had learned the snow acted as an insulator,
making for quiet days and nights. That is, when we didn’t
have a dozen subcontractors working on the old place.
Which reminded me, I needed to tell Drake to stay hidden
when the carpenter came later today to put the finishing
touches on the check-in area and the office. I wondered how
Drake felt about scraping popcorn ceilings or painting. My
guess was that would be a no for him.
Whenever I crossed the threshold of the inn, it always
felt as if I were entering a different world. Where anything
was possible and dreams could come true. Or .  .  . maybe
nightmares. Drake sat in the parlor waiting for me. My heart
skipped a thousand beats. Not only did his presence startle
me, but there was no denying he did things to me—like my
soul came alive and everything around suddenly looked as if
I had added a vibrant filter to it on my phone.
I ripped the beanie off my head. “What are you doing?” I
asked breathily.
“Waiting for you.” He stood. Man, was he tall. We are
talking six three and all lean muscle.
“I have work.” I sounded like a cavewoman.
“We can talk while you work.” He obviously wasn’t going
to let this go.
“Okay,” I squeaked, before ripping off my white puffy
jacket, that made me look like the Michelin Man, and
hanging it on the coatrack near the door. Next came my
furry boots and gloves. If ever Drake had been attracted to
me, I was doing my best to negate that. I probably should
get a better wardrobe. Except it all kind of went with my
I’m-never-dating-again persona. Although, I was wearing my
most form-fitting overalls and a tight long-sleeved shirt that
proved I still had a figure. And not a bad one at that. I mean,
nothing like the curvaceous, voluptuous women he was
used to dating, but I kept myself in shape. Chasing after a
boy full of endless energy and renovating an old inn will do
that to you.
Drake gave me a good once-over as he headed my way.
I wasn’t sure what he was thinking while he rubbed his neck.
It could be anything from Get this woman a makeover stat
to What have I gotten myself into? Probably a little of both.
I didn’t have time to decipher the inner workings of
Drake, so I headed toward the spiral staircase. I was still
working on the Graham and Amanda room. The popcorn
ceiling was gone, so now it was time to start taping so I
could paint.
Drake followed. “I need you to give me a list of
Jameson’s likes and dislikes.”
I stopped at the base of the stairs, gripping the handrail.
I knew exactly what Drake was trying to do. “Jameson is not
a character you are going to play in a movie. There is no
such thing as method acting when it comes to parenting.”
He clenched his fists. “I’m doing the best I can here. It’s
not like I had any time to prepare for this role, Charlotte.”
I felt the sting of his words in the depths of my soul. “I’m
sorry,” I whispered. “You’re right. I’ll tell you anything you
want to know about him. I actually have several photo
books I’ve made of him over the years, if you want to look
at those.”
He nodded.
“Okay. Let me just grab them.” I veered toward the
owner’s suite, feeling so ashamed and stupid. I should have
braved telling him, no matter the cost to my heart.
Drake once again followed. Weird.
When I made it to the door, I turned to face Drake, who
was so close I noticed some flecks of gray in his hair. Wow. It
made him even more attractive, which shouldn’t be
possible. I bit my lip before I told him just how much I liked
it. “Uh, you can wait here. I’ll be right back.” I didn’t need
him to see all the tissues I’d left on the coffee table after
crying my eyes out last night. Or how untidy the place was.
Normally, I would consider myself a clean and well-
organized person, but these renovations were kicking my
butt. Cleaning was last on my list. Drake’s presence hadn’t
helped either.
“Is this where you and Jameson stay?” He pointed at the
door.
“Yes.”
“Then I’m coming in,” he said, ever so arrogantly.
I slid in front of the door. “I don’t think that’s necessary.
Besides, Izzy’s probably getting ready, and she doesn’t
really like you.” I grinned.
“I’m not all that fond of her either. It’s a good thing she
and Martez ran to the hardware store.”
 I clutched my throat for a few good reasons, starting
with: I was alone with Drake, which probably wasn’t the best
idea. Not like I couldn’t control myself. I was a new woman
now. I. Did. Not. Want. Him. No matter what he said. I would
keep thinking that until I one hundred percent believed it.
It’s not like he wanted me. The man was livid with me.
Probably hated me. And there was the little matter of .  .  .
“Does anyone in town know that Martez is your assistant?
Do you trust him?” I was in a panic.
“I keep all my assistants in the background now. I only
brought him on this trip because he’s fluent in several
languages and one of the executive producers and my
costar are French.”
“How lucky for you.” I could picture the headlines now,
linking the two of them together. And they wouldn’t be
wrong, that I was sure of. “I suppose she’s in Jackson Hole
now, waiting for you to run lines. Get those love scenes
down to a T.” My stomach rolled thinking about it, so much
so I had to turn away from him. I hated that he still had this
effect on me. I had no business being jealous. All I ever was
to him was a weekend fling.
I hastily opened the door, wanting nothing more than to
flee his presence.
He had other ideas. He gently grabbed my arm, but I
refused to look at him. “Charlotte, Avriel is there, but I’m
where I want to be.”
I braved a peek at him. His gaze was as intense as his
words had just been.
 “Really?” I asked, my voice hitching.
“Yes,” he answered simply.
“Okay. But just for the record, I still don’t want you.”
“Keep on telling yourself that. And just for the record,
I’m still livid with you.”
“Well, good. This should be fun, then.”
“You’re still the worst liar I know.” He strode past me,
welcoming himself right into my living space. “Or maybe
you’re the best,” he zinged, piercing the very fiber of my
being.
I shut the door and leaned against it, trying to catch my
breath after that slight. “How can you say that? I never lied
to you.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “I trusted you implicitly,
Charlotte. In fact, there’s been no one else in this world I
have trusted more than you. But come to find out, you
purposely kept my son a secret from me,” he seethed.
So, I guess we were getting into this now. I should have
known. Drake wasn’t one to sit on things. He was a man of
action.
I gripped the door handle, hoping my knees didn’t
buckle. I wasn’t ready for this. And unfortunately . . . “You’re
right. I did keep him from you. For that, I am sorry,” my
voice shook. “But I’m not the only person who lied in this
situation.”
He tilted his head, with an incredulous question in his
eyes.
 I was more than willing to fill him in. “That weekend, you
led me to believe that your feelings ran deeply for me. That
you were deserving of not only my body, but my soul. Both
of which I gave you freely, in a way I had never done with
anyone else. You have no idea how devastating it was to
find out it was all a lie.” Emotion crept into my voice, though
I held back the tears. I had already shed too many on his
behalf. “So, pardon me for not wanting to be rejected by you
a second time. Or worse, have you reject Jameson or even
deny that he is yours. And might I remind you, I did try to
tell you. I all but begged you to call me.”
He turned a deep shade of red while he appeared to
search for the right thing to say. But honestly, what could he
say? I spoke the truth.
When he said nothing, I headed for my room to get
Jameson’s books.
Drake grabbed my hand as I walked by. “Charlotte,
wait.”
I looked down at our hands. Some of the magic of this
place, and our time together here so many years ago,
seemed to dance between our intertwined fingers. It ignited
the searing connection I’d always felt with him. I had to pull
away. I couldn’t afford to love him like I did. It was only
another foolish endeavor.
Drake’s grip tightened, holding me captive in both
heaven and hell.
“What do you want, Drake?” I pleaded with him to know.
 He looked up to the popcorn ceiling. “I don’t know.” He
lowered his gaze until he was peering into my fiery eyes.
“But you should know, our time together was real. Too real,”
he added.
“I’m not sure what that means. But, Drake, being a
parent is real. Can you be real? Be human for the long
haul?”
“I don’t know.” He dropped my hand.
The loss of it felt all too real. “You need to figure that
out. Like, stat.”

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Ten
“How long were you in labor?” Drake asked.
I looked down at him from the ladder. I had to smile at
him, sitting on the plastic-covered floor, up against the wall
in the Graham and Amanda room, surrounded by the photo
books I had made of Jameson. He’d wanted to start at the
beginning of his life. I’d told him he could ask me anything,
but as usual with him, I wasn’t expecting that question.
“Not horribly long. Actually, at first, I thought the pain I
was feeling was from a spicy burrito I’d eaten the night
before.”
Drake chuckled. So unusual for him.
“By the time I made it to the hospital I was in full-blown
labor. Jameson was full of surprises from the very beginning.
He’s always in a hurry. He crawled, walked, and talked early.
He started reading well before kindergarten. He’s basically a
genius.” I grinned.
Drake brushed his fingers over the page. “You look
happy.”
“It was the happiest day of my life. I’m sorry you missed
it.” I had longed to have him there with me, to hold my
hand, to relish in the joy of Jameson.
“Me too,” he bristled. He was obviously still upset with
me.
“Really?” I was surprised.
His head snapped up. “I may be a jerk, Charlotte, but
knowing I have a child means something to me. And
whether you believe me or not, you mean something to
me.”
“I do have a hard time believing that.” I tore a strip of
blue tape off the roll.
“I understand why,” he admitted.
“It doesn’t matter how you feel about me.” That wasn’t
exactly true, but our ship had sailed—more like never left
port. And according to Izzy, he was back with Marissa.
“What matters is that we are good co-parents. And as the
main co-parent I need to tell you, our son thinks you’re
grumpy. You’re going to have to work on that.”
He grimaced. “Perhaps if you didn’t tell my employee
how he can address me.”
“Oh, please, you’re being ridiculous with the Mr. Foster
thing. And not to burst your bubble, but if you want to be in
Jameson’s life, I will be in all your business. Like .  .  . for
starters, I need to know who you’re dating.” You know,
purely for parenting purposes.
His brow popped. “Do I get the same access to your
life?”
“No,” I stated matter-of-factly.
“How is that fair?” he asked, annoyed.
“I figure since I pushed out a nine-pound baby that tore
my cervix and have raised him for the last five and a half
years, I have more privileges than you.”
Drake cringed at the mention of a torn cervix. Yeah, it
wasn’t fun. I loved sitting on a donut and taking a million
stool softeners for days. For that, I should get some perks.
He shuddered, as if trying to get the image of Jameson
obliterating all my lady parts out of his head before he
responded, “I think since you didn’t give me the chance to
be part of his life, that puts us on an even playing field.”
“Oh no, no, no.” I waved the tape around. “Jameson is
mine. And when it comes to him, you better think, WWCT.
What would Charlotte think? For instance, if you are dating
Marissa again, Charlotte would think that’s a big fat no. She
isn’t stepmother material. At. All,” I emphasized, as
emphatically as I could.
I thought he might get upset with me; instead, he
smirked.
“I forgot how infuriating and adorable you are.”
I gripped the ladder and bit my lip. He wasn’t allowed to
be charming. “I still don’t like to be called adorable.”
Infuriating, I was totally on board with.
“That’s a shame,” he crooned sexily.
I cleared my throat. “Well,” I said, two octaves too high.
“That doesn’t matter. What I need to know is if you are
seeing Marissa or any other bimbo .  .  . I mean tramp .  .  . I
mean woman. I get so confused when it comes to your
girlfriends.” I wickedly grinned.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, all while the corners
of his mouth ticked up, like he was confused as to whether
he should smile or berate me. He finally went with a long
sigh followed by, “I’m currently not dating anyone.”
“Perfect.” I pressed my lips together so hard to keep
from smiling.
 “What about you? Who are you dating?”
I reached up and smoothed the piece of tape along the
edge of the ceiling. “I haven’t dated anyone in years.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Why?” I tore another piece of tape off the roll.
“Because you’re adorable.” He flashed me his
dampened smile.
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, well I have a knack for making
poor choices when it comes to men. And Jameson doesn’t
deserve for me to screw up again.”
“Do you consider me one of those poor choices?”
My cheeks pinked. “Izzy certainly does.”
“I don’t care what your sister thinks,” he growled. “What
do you think?”
“I think our time together was too good to be true,” fell
out of my mouth before I could stop myself. “Anyway . . .” I
blinked a hundred times, completely flustered. I even forgot
why I was on the ladder. Seriously, why did I say that to
him? “Um .  .  . just look at Jameson .  .  . I mean his books.”
Anything but him looking at me the way he was, with his
impassioned gaze that made me feel seen in a way that no
one had ever seen me before. Like he knew exactly what I
was made of.
Drake stared at Jameson’s photo album. “You were too
good for me. You understand that, right?” he whispered.
“Is that the excuse you’re going for? It was you, not
me.”
“It’s not an excuse. It’s the truth,” he spat.
 “Maybe it is.” I shrugged. “But it doesn’t matter. It was a
long time ago.” I tore another piece of tape off, while
swallowing down the lump my lie had created in my throat.
As much as I didn’t want it to, it very much mattered to me.
He must have agreed, as a silence settled between us.
Drake took to studying our son’s pictures while I taped and
held back tears. Drake was bringing up too many feelings I
had suppressed. I needed to shove them right back down
where they belonged—in the depths of Siberia.
After a good half hour of uncomfortable quiet, Drake
held up a book and pointed at the cutest picture of Jameson
without a shirt on, standing on the table, covered in tomato
soup. He was all of two years old and still had a hard time
getting all the food in his mouth. Yet he insisted on feeding
himself.
“Does he like tomato soup?” Drake asked.
“Yep, and grilled cheese sandwiches. It’s his favorite
dinner.” I gave him a knowing look.
Drake set the book back in his lap. “I haven’t eaten that
meal since that night,” he said wistfully.
“George introduced Jameson to it during one of our
visits.” I had vowed to never eat that meal again, but
George was George and he thought Jameson deserved to
know the wonders of the meal that had brought his parents
together. Now we have grilled cheese sandwiches and
tomato soup a few times a month.
“How often did you come here?”
 “Two or three times a year.” I climbed down the ladder
so I could move it over.
“Why so often?”
“George’s only son died in a car accident a long time
ago, and with his wife gone, Jameson and I became family to
him.” You know, and this place is magical and calls to my
soul, but Drake didn’t need the gory details.
“I take it George knows Jameson’s my son?” he
grumbled.
“Yes,” I admitted. George was an exception to the rule.
And I didn’t exactly tell him, but he’s pretty good at math,
just like Drake. “But he would never tell a soul.”
“That’s not what bothers me, Charlotte. What upsets me
is that you told George and not me.”
I leaned against the ladder. “I know, Drake. How many
times do you want me to apologize? Do you think I’m proud
that I kept Jameson a secret from you? That it was some big
plot of mine? You don’t know how much the guilt has eaten
me alive all these years,” I pleaded with him to understand.
“But you hurt me. So much. It’s not a good excuse, I know.
But you pushed me out of your life, and I thought you
wanted to keep it that way.”
His jaw tightened, and those angular cheeks of his
pulsed until they turned red. “That was the plan,” he
mumbled. “But as hard as I tried, you never went away.”
I rubbed my chest. “Honestly, I could really do without
you driving home how much you didn’t want me,” I
snapped, on the precipice of bawling.
 Drake’s eyes captured mine and held me captive in a
way only he could. He demanded my attention for what he
said next. “Charlotte, don’t you get it? I wanted you so
damn bad. For three years I spent all my energy not
crossing the line with you. Every day I told myself to fire
you, thinking I couldn’t hold out any longer, but then you
would show up and smile at me and I would find the
willpower to withstand the temptation one more day, just to
see you smile.”
The tears I had been holding back began to softly fall,
one by one.
“Then we got stuck in this place.” He waved his hand
around and let out a heavy breath. “And I gave in and ruined
it all.”
“It didn’t have to ruin anything.” I wiped the tears off
my cheeks.
“Charlotte,” he whispered. “I wouldn’t have been any
good for you.”
He kept saying that, but I didn’t believe him. But he did,
and I wasn’t going to try and change his mind. “I guess it’s a
good thing I don’t want you,” I replied half-heartedly. He and
Izzy were right—I was a terrible liar.
“For your sake, I wish that were true.”
Me too. Me too. I moved the ladder farther down the
wall, my heart torn in shreds. He had no idea what a blow it
was to me that he thought I was good enough to stay away
from but not good enough for him to try and love. Was
Jameson going to be good enough for him? I had literal
chest pains thinking he would reject Jameson for any
reason.
“Is George still alive?” Drake asked offhandedly.
“Yes.” I smiled to myself. “He lives in a little place
downtown. He comes to dinner at least once a week. I know
he’ll be glad to see you. He always said you would come
back to this place,” I added.
“Why did he think that?”
I paused, wondering how to answer truthfully without
revealing George’s lunatic theory that Drake and I were soul
mates—meant to be. I went with, “Because he believes in
you.” That about summed it up.
“Do you?” Drake begged to know.
My breath stilled, yet my pulse raced. My soul longed to
believe in him, but I couldn’t be foolish anymore. I turned
and met Drake’s anxious gaze. There was no denying I loved
him and probably always would but . . . “I used to.”
Drake’s face fell and my heart took a big, big tumble.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Eleven
“Jameson, did you know that Drake is in a lot of
movies?” I decided to help Drake out during dinner, as
Jameson somehow rendered him incapable of speaking.
He’d been basically following us around ever since Jameson
had gotten home, saying hardly a word while he took notes
on our child. Yep, the man had literally typed into his phone,
Likes whole-grain crackers and cheddar cheese as an after-
school snack. Also prefers Gala apples.
I had been doing a lot of internal eye-rolling. I mean, it
was great he wanted to learn Jameson’s likes and dislikes,
but he was doing nothing to actually get to know Jameson or
interact with him.
Jameson set down the fork he had just twirled about a
pound of spaghetti noodles onto. His widened eyes said,
This could be interesting. He tapped his lips skeptically, in a
way that said he was totally Drake’s son. “I didn’t see you in
Elf.” Jameson loves that movie. We watched it a dozen times
last month right before Christmas.
Drake lowered his glass and gave Jameson a half smile,
which was pretty good for him. “I wasn’t in that movie. I do
more action movies.”
Jameson tilted his head, not knowing what that meant.
“He sometimes plays a spy and blows things up,” I said,
knowing exactly how Jameson would react.
He grinned a goofy grin. “That’s freaking awesome. I
wish I could blow stuff up.”
 I wasn’t sure if this bit of news should concern me.
Drake’s raised brow said he might be a tad concerned
as well. Once again, Jameson had rendered him mute.
I couldn’t hide my disappointment and sighed. I got that
this was all new for Drake and he’d never really been
around kids, but I hoped he would give it the old college try.
Jameson went back to his food. I turned my attention
toward Izzy and Martez, who looked awfully cozy next to
each other, sitting across the table from Jameson and me.
Drake was on the end, keeping his distance, as always.
Meanwhile my sister was getting a lesson in Cuban Spanish.
I don’t know what they were saying, but it sounded sexy.
Judging by the way Izzy was blushing and he was tapping
her nose and whispering in her ear, I’m guessing I was right.
Regardless, it was good to see her laugh and smile. Even
better, she wasn’t growling and glaring at Drake, whom she
had threatened to his face that she would cut him if he hurt
me. Good times.
Admittedly, I was kind of hurt. I just needed to lower my
expectations. Drake was who he said he was, not who I’d
seen him as once upon a time. I wrapped an arm around
Jameson and squeezed. We were fine without Drake. It’s not
like Jameson had ever said he wished for a dad—he’d only
asked who his dad was. He thought it was totally cool that
fireworks made him and Uncle Sam was his father. Yeah, so I
knew that would come back to bite me one day. Just like I
knew Jameson would one day want a dad—his real dad.
 I stared at my food, depressed. Then a small miracle
occurred.
“Jameson, would you like to visit the set of my new
movie when we start filming?” Drake asked, his voice on the
unsteady side.
My head popped up. I found Drake rubbing his neck and
swallowing hard. I gave him a reassuring smile that he was
doing the right thing.
Jameson grinned and rubbed his hands together in an
evil-genius sort of way. “Can I blow stuff up?”
Everyone laughed. Drake even gave a small chuckle.
“I can’t promise that,” Drake responded. “But I could
swing a meeting with Buddy the elf.”
Jameson jumped up. “Like tomorrow?” he shouted, as if
this was the best day of his life.
“Not tomorrow.” Drake smiled, like a real smile. “But
soon . . .”—he caught my eye—“I promise.”
The butterflies had now gone from twerking to pole
dancing. I grabbed my stomach as if to tell them to knock it
off. Drake taking a step in the right direction meant nothing
for the butterflies. He was Jameson’s dad—that’s it. But
yeah, I could have kissed him. “Thank you. Good job,” I
mouthed.
“I can’t wait to tell Ollie tomorrow.” Jameson was
ecstatic.
That made me happy but also worried me. I knew we
couldn’t keep Drake’s presence a secret forever, but I was
hoping we could for a little longer. At least until I knew for
sure Drake was going to rock the dad thing. Yet, I couldn’t
tell Jameson not to share his exciting news with his friend. I
didn’t want Jameson to think anything weird about Drake
being here, even though it was beyond bizarre. At least this
town was used to the rich and famous vacationing here. So
maybe no one would think twice about Drake being here. As
long as no one saw Drake and Jameson together, it should
be fine. Hopefully.
Jameson directed his attention back to Drake. “Just don’t
be grumpy around Buddy.”
I pressed my lips together, holding back a laugh,
anxiously waiting to see how Drake took his son’s advice. As
I well knew, Drake didn’t like unsolicited advice.
Drake cleared his throat before saying, “I’ll try,” kind of
grumpily. But for him this was progress, and I would take it.
After a dinner that went better than anticipated, Izzy
and Martez kept “working” on the office. Jameson was, of
course, curious about Drake’s movies and wanted to see
some of them. That was tricky, as Drake’s movies weren’t
exactly family friendly. You know, unless you thought
bedding as many women as possible, while stringing along
the leading lady, was gallant—in between killing off anyone
who got in your way. Then maybe you would consider
Drake’s films to be great family fun. As much as I loved to
watch a shirtless Drake disarm bombs, I didn’t really want
this to be the impression our son had of him. So, we pulled
up some YouTube clips that showed an array of Drake’s
acting prowess.
 Not to say Drake was just a pretty boy on-screen; he
truly was talented. He’d been nominated for an Oscar and a
few SAG awards. His movie, All Thrills, a psychological
thriller, was highly acclaimed. He’d brilliantly portrayed a
broken ex-detective on the hunt for a man who’d murdered
his family. Sure, he still slept around in that film, but he’d
proven he had some serious acting chops. I’d love to see
him do a rom-com, you know, minus the romance part for
me. Unfortunately, I knew all too well that he studied most
of his costars intimately behind the scenes to make their
love scenes flawless—unless she happened to be married or
in a relationship. Drake was a stickler about that. A real
hero, I guess you could say. Please note the sarcasm.
The three of us settled on the couch in our small living
room. I had thrown away all the tissues earlier and tidied up
a bit.
Drake played TV commando with the remote, knowing
exactly which clips to pull up to show our son. Jameson sat
between us on the edge of his seat. Drake took a moment to
study him, as if he couldn’t believe he had a child. His soft
expression indicated he wasn’t averse to it. He even smiled.
I wanted to know what he was thinking, but I wasn’t sure if
he knew himself.
“This clip here”—Drake clicked the remote—“is from the
first Kaden Chandler Chronicles movie I made. We filmed
this in Germany. Do you know where that is?” he asked
Jameson.
Jameson shook his head.
 “Why don’t you pull up a map on your phone and show
him,” I suggested to Drake. Jameson loved to learn where
places are around the world.
“Okay.” Drake seemed unsure, which was so weird. He
was such a smart and capable man—you know, unless it
came to women and small children. But other than that, he
was intelligent. It was kind of fun to watch him struggle a
bit. He did eventually get his phone out of his pocket to pull
up a world map.
Jameson leaned in closer next to him.
Wow. Seeing them together was so surreal. Jameson
truly was Drake’s mini-me. They even tilted their heads the
same way when they looked at something. I wanted to pull
my phone out and snap a picture. I hoped, however, that
there would be plenty of opportunities in the future to
capture father and son together. You know, after Jameson
knew Drake was his dad.
Drake held the phone closer to Jameson and pointed at
a lime-green landmass. “That’s Germany. It’s in Europe.”
“Across the Atlantic Ocean,” I added.
“I’ve been to the Atlantic Ocean,” Jameson said proudly.
“My Mimi and Papa live near it. I used to live there too, but
then we moved here.”
Drake set his phone down and gave Jameson his full
attention. “Do you like it here?”
Jameson grinned and nodded. “But I miss Mimi and
Papa, and going to the beach.”
“I have a house on the beach,” Drake responded.
 “And you know Buddy the elf. You’re so lucky.”
“I suppose I am,” Drake said.
“Not as lucky as us,” I teased. “We have a ballroom here
and can build a snowman and go skiing.” I wasn’t going to
mention Drake’s indoor basketball court or his amazing pool
with views of the ocean. I did love that place.
“Can you ski?” he asked Jameson. This was good. I liked
that he was naturally trying to get to know him. You know,
instead of following him around and making notes of his
observations.
“Yep!” he puffed out his chest. “I only fell two times
when we went last week.”
Oh, last week, how I missed you. My life was much
simpler then.
Drake didn’t respond right away. Seriously, he needed to
be snappier in his conversations with him. He had nothing to
fear from Jameson—you know, except for a lifetime of
commitment and possibly being a real-life hero to someone.
Other than that, no pressure at all.
“You know, Drake trained with an Olympic skier for one
of his movie roles.” I helped the man out again.
“My mom and Aunt Iz like to watch the Olympics and
talk about all the guys’ chests and butts.”
That was not the response I was expecting, and judging
by Drake’s popped brow and smirk, he wasn’t either,
although it appeared to amuse him.
“Is that so? What else does your mom like to watch?”
Now he decided to get chatty? And for the record, he knew
the kind of movies I liked to watch. Um, did he forget our
movie marathon weekends watching romantic classics?
“She loves kissing movies.” Jameson grimaced. “It’s
gross.”
Please let him keep thinking that way for a long, long
time.
“Someday you won’t think so.” Drake winked at me.
Why must he be charming?
Do not fall for it, I reminded myself.
“Why don’t we watch you blow something up?” I threw
out there. Anything to help me not think about kissing
Drake.
“Yeah!” Jameson shouted.
Again, not sure if I should be worried about his
excitement regarding blowing things up, but it was better
than him wanting to kiss girls or me wanting to kiss his
father. Because, man, could his dad kiss. Hence the reason
Jameson was born. A shiver went through me, just thinking
about Drake’s kisses.
Drake grabbed the remote and clicked play. “We filmed
this scene just outside of Munich. The car I’m driving is a
McLaren.” Drake’s eyes got all dreamy, along with our son’s.
“That’s so cool.” Jameson practically drooled at the
sleek black car speeding down the road, being driven by his
dad.
“I bought one last year.”
Of course he did.
“Really?” Jameson scooted closer to Drake.
 “I can bring it to the set and show you.”
Great. Just great. Drake was going to become a
Disneyland Dad. Show Jameson the wonders of his rich and
famous world. Snowmen and sliding in socks on the
ballroom floor were going to pale in comparison.
“Can I ride in it?” Jameson was eager to know.
Drake at least had the wherewithal to look at me first,
before he responded. Very good. He employed the WWCT
rule.
“No back seat equals no. Sorry.” I smiled at Jameson,
who already had the pouty lip going.
“Ugh,” Jameson groaned.
“When you get older, then.” Drake offered.
Did that mean he was in it for the long haul? Please let
him be, I silently begged. Let him love our son.
Jameson was somewhat placated. The two leaned back
at the same time, and even folded their arms the same way,
to continue watching the clip. It was fascinating and a bit
frightening, how they mirrored each other.
I let them do their thing while I cut out paper hearts.
According to George, Daisy always strung paper hearts
across the ballroom to decorate for the ball when she was
alive. That was a lot of paper hearts. Izzy and I had been
sneaking in time whenever we could to cut them out. I
wanted to surprise George with Daisy’s old tradition. It also
gave me the excuse to observe Drake and Jameson
together. While Drake wasn’t warm and fuzzy, he was eager
to explain each clip and scene to Jameson and seemed
pleased by how attentive and anxious Jameson was to listen
to him and ask questions. For a brief moment, I had a
glimpse of what our lives could be like. Oh, how I wanted it.
Nights cozied up together on the couch after a long day, just
the three of us. Something was so right about it. About us.
How could that be, though? Drake wasn’t looking to be a
family man, and his life was in LA and on the big screen, not
in Fair Hollow. He’d made it clear how he felt, yet he was
here.
Between clips, Drake interrupted my thoughts. “Tell me
more about this Valentine’s Day ball.”
“It’s kind of a big deal around here.” I carefully cut along
the lines of the pink hearts I’d printed out. “The entire town
is invited. People come dressed in their finest—lots of ball
gowns and tuxes. A band plays all the big band classics of
the past, and we dance the night away. George gives a
speech about the magic of love, and of course there will be
amazing food, and Izzy will probably spike the punch.” I
grinned, earning me one in return.
Drake scrolled, looking for the next clip. “Will you be
wearing a ball gown?”
“As soon as I find one, yes.” I had gone to the ball last
year with George, but as I was the owner now, I wanted
something new. Something special to wear. I’d been
searching in my free time, which meant hardly at all.
“I’m going to be my mom’s date,” Jameson informed
Drake.
“Best date around.” I ruffled his curls.
 “You could come,” Jameson invited Drake.
I swallowed hard, not knowing how I felt about that. On
one hand, I would love nothing more than to have Drake
come—to dance with him. Although that was a foolish
thought. On the other hand, there would be no more secret
if he came. Which could be a good thing. But would Drake
prove himself worthy of being the dad Jameson deserved in
a month’s time?
Drake ran a hand through his hair with an uneasy look.
“I wish I could, but I have to get back to LA soon. It’s awards
season and I’ll be attending the BAFTAs the week of
Valentine’s Day,” he made his excuses.
“How fun. I know how much you love London.” Did that
come out bitter? Probably. It was ridiculous for me to think
we would fit into Drake’s life. It’s not like I expected him to
change all his plans for us—for his son. I was the one who
didn’t give him a heads-up on the whole dad thing. But I
knew it would always be one thing or another that would
demand his time and attention. Such was his life. He wasn’t
about to trade in the glitz and glamour for sleepy Fair
Hollow.
“Perhaps if I’d known,” he said, with enough bite to tear
a chunk out of my soul.
I knew he was talking about more than the ball. I knew
he was still angry with me. I knew a lot of things I wish I
didn’t know.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twelve
Izzy floated into our bedroom as if she’d just danced
with a prince at the ball. She even twirled and sighed a
happy sigh.
I smiled from my bed, already snuggled in underneath
the covers. Izzy and I had what we called the Lucy and Desi
beds. Two twins separated by only a nightstand. We were
totally on our way to spinsterhood and some fun rumors.
Well, maybe . . .
I sat up and propped myself on my fluffy pillows, the
fluffier the better. “You either just stabbed Drake or made
out with Martez,” I said jokingly.
She draped herself dramatically on her bed. “Oh, I
would love to maim Drake, but kissing Martez wasn’t too
bad,” she sang.
I popped up. “You really did kiss Martez? You barely
know him.”
“Well, I know him better now.” She wagged her brows.
“Spill your guts,” I demanded.
She sat up and tossed her beautiful tresses. “It’s no big
deal.”
“Uh, you haven’t kissed anyone since Jared, and Martez
is a lot younger than you. This qualifies as a big deal.”
She bit her lip, acting all shy, which she totally wasn’t.
“Soooo . . . ,” she elongated. “We were just talking as I put
the final coat of stain on the check-in counter, and he made
a flirty comment.” She blushed.
 “By how red your cheeks are, I need to hear this
comment.”
She closed her eyes like she was embarrassed. “I’m not
sure exactly, because he said it in French, but it was
something along the lines of me being sexy and my lips
looking lonely.” Her eyes peeked open. “Uh,” she
stammered. “I told him they wouldn’t mind some company.”
I smiled and giggled. “That’s so cheesy, but cute. So,
did he just go for it?”
“He slinked across the floor like a prowling lion, hungry
for me,” she said breathlessly. “It was straight out of Dirty
Dancing, I swear.” She fanned herself.
I pictured Patrick Swayze crawling across the floor
toward Jennifer Grey. It made me a little heated. Man, did I
miss male affection. “So then what?” I waited with bated
breath for her to give me more details.
“Then he hovered above me and brushed back my hair
while teasing my lips with his own. And then it happened.”
“And?”
“And it was good. Really good, even.”
“But not life changing?”
“No,” she sighed.
I flung my legs off the bed and reached for her hands.
“Are you okay?”
She squeezed mine back. “Of course. It was so nice to
feel wanted again, but it wasn’t the same,” her voice
cracked. “I hate Jared right now.”
 I hated the man too. I hopped over to Izzy’s bed and put
an arm around her. Her head landed on my shoulder. I
rubbed her arm. “This was a good first step for you. And not
a lot of women can say they made out with a Latin god.” I
tried to interject some humor. Jared had done a number on
Izzy. On all of us, really. My parents and I had loved Jared like
a son and brother. I used to think Izzy and Jared were couple
goals—madly in love with each other and running a
successful business together.
“That’s true,” she giggled. “He is incredibly good
looking. But something was missing.” She sounded
depressed.
“I still think this calls for ice cream. It’s a first kiss of
sorts.” When I was fifteen and Izzy was twenty and already
at college, she drove all the way from Virginia to Florida to
bring me ice cream after my first kiss with Scott Carson.
She’d said every first kiss deserves ice cream. We’d stayed
up the rest of the night talking about that magical moment
in my life. That’s just the kind of sister she was. I loved her
more than life, and I wished I could take away her pain.
“Yeah, I guess it is.”
“Izzy, not every kiss is going to be soul-stirring. It’s not
meant to be that way. I think a kiss is nature’s way of telling
us things that sometimes we can’t see right away, or might
be afraid to admit. Those men who can stir our souls are a
rare breed and worth the wait.” Well, at least some of them.
Only one man had ever stirred my soul. I had a feeling I may
have to wait forever for him to figure out we were meant to
be together.
“Were you reading Grandma’s Reader’s Digests too?”
She laughed.
“No, but I know the kind of kiss you’re missing.”
“Drake may stir your soul,” she growled, “but that
doesn’t mean he’s the one for you.”
I let go of her and let out a heavy breath. “Let’s not talk
about him tonight. I’m going to get you some ice cream.” I
stood.
She grabbed my hand. “Char, I’m sorry. I’m worried
about you. I know you love him, but do you really think the
man is husband and father material? He can hardly string a
sentence together around Jameson.”
“That’s not true. He and Jameson talked quite a bit
tonight while you were getting tangled up with Martez.”
“There was very little tangling.” She smiled.
“Regardless.” I smiled back. “Drake is trying to get to
know Jameson.” Sure, he wouldn’t slide in his socks with us
or join our nightly dance party. That’s not really his style.
But he did come in for bedtime, and he made notes of all
the books in Jameson’s room. He’d even told me I was a
great mom and that motherhood suited me. “But you don’t
need to worry. I don’t have any delusions about Drake and I
having a future together.” Maybe some daydreams, but
definitely not any delusions. “He’ll be leaving in a couple of
days and that will be that.”
 “What do you mean, that will be that? What about
Jameson? He doesn’t want a relationship with him?” she
seethed.
“I don’t know, Izzy. We haven’t talked about the future.
I’m trying to let Drake ease into this. He’s still in shock, and
quite honestly upset with me for keeping Jameson from
him.”
“Well, I guess that’s a good sign,” she half-conceded. “If
he were apathetic, I may have to slap him.”
“Oh, you know you want to anyway.” I grinned.
“I totally do, but I will refrain, as I don’t believe in
physical violence.”
“How benevolent of you.” I smirked.
“My benevolence is running thin. Did you know he told
Martez to be careful with me? Like I’m a psycho or
something?”
“Did you ever stop to think he was trying to protect you,
not Martez?” Which suddenly made me worry. Did Drake
know something about Martez? Surely he wouldn’t have
someone working for him he didn’t trust. Or come to think
of it, he could actually think Izzy was a psycho. I mean,
she’s not, but she’d always come off as the crazy big sister
to him.
“I doubt your baby daddy is trying to protect me,” she
snarled.
“Please don’t call him that. It makes me feel like I
belong on the Maury Povich show.” Good ole Maury and his
baby daddy reveal episodes.
 “I’ll give you that.” She laughed. “At least the jerk isn’t
demanding you take a paternity test.”
“Izzy, he knows Jameson’s his. I can tell by the way he
looks at him. Like he’s seeing himself. It’s sweet.” Sure, the
man could hardly express a thing, but it’s all there in his
eyes. Everything I wanted but couldn’t have because
something inside of himself, or in his past, was preventing
him from being human. I just wish I knew what that was.
“Char, you and Jameson need someone who can be
sweet for more than a couple of days. Just remember that.”
She let go of my hand. “I’m ready for my ice cream now.”
She grinned.
Now I felt like I needed some, after that lovely piece of
advice. I wrapped my arms around myself. Izzy was right.
Jameson and I deserved someone who was in it for the long
haul. Odds were, it wasn’t going to be Drake.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Thirteen
Drake and Jameson continued to bond over movie clips
and their love for cinnamon French toast during breakfast.
Then I dropped Jameson off at school and headed to the
attic. I was in search of some old photos of the inn I wanted
to display near the check-in area for the dance. It was also a
good excuse to be alone. Drake was on a video call running
lines with his new costar. Martez was helping translate when
needed. And Izzy was giving the carpenter the what for, for
not showing up yesterday like he had promised. She was
probably still blushing too. All throughout breakfast she and
Martez kept smiling at each other covertly. I could tell
Martez would like the opportunity to knock Izzy’s socks off
with another round of kisses, but I wasn’t sure if Izzy would
be amenable.
Women need a reason to kiss someone. Men, for the
most part, just need an excuse—like she’s willing and able
and has a pulse.
Honestly, I was a bit worried about Drake’s warning to
Martez. I would have to talk to him about it later. Not that it
would matter. They were leaving on Sunday, two days from
now. Drake had some pressing meetings and an award show
or two to attend this month. Appearances were everything.
Not only that, but the after-parties were a time for rubbing
shoulders with all the right people. It’s how Drake had
gotten the part of Kaden Chandler. He’d just happened to
run into the director at one of those parties, and as luck
would have it, the actor they had originally hired had
backed out. That guy had to be kicking himself. The Kaden
Chandler Chronicles had made billions and was still going
strong.
Drake hadn’t said anything, but I was sure he had some
dates lined up for the awards shows. He always did. He and
Marissa usually did at least one together every year,
whether they were dating or not. Ugh.
I wondered if Drake would come back to visit. Did he
want the role of Dad?
With those thoughts, I crept into the attic, one of the
most magical places in the inn—second only to the
honeymoon suite. The ballroom came in third place.
I opened the creaky door and flipped on the lights.
Before me was a treasure trove of not only the inn’s past,
but of George and Daisy’s. Things like antique standing
mirrors, trunks, photos, and lots of books. There were even
boxes of clothes, an old sewing machine, and the original
Old Rock Church Inn sign. George didn’t have a lot of
storage space in his new place, so he’d asked if we wouldn’t
mind keeping some of his old things. I didn’t mind at all.
Oddly, I thought this is where Daisy would want her things
to remain. According to George, she had finished the attic
and would spend hours up here, sitting in her rocking chair
and reading dirty books, as George called them. He also
said she did a lot of mourning for their son up here. She
would pore over old pictures of Lyle and weep like only a
mother can. Those tears made this place sacred. Which is
why I always tiptoed in. I wanted to make sure it was okay
with Daisy that I was there. Oddly, I felt like she gave me
permission each time I entered. Sometimes, I think she was
expecting me, like today. I swore I heard her say, “Come on
in, you have quite the story to tell.” You see, I, too, had shed
many tears up here, away from Izzy and Jameson. Where I
could mourn what I had lost. Daisy knew all about Drake and
how inadequate I felt sometimes. Us cute, perky girls had to
stick together.
I walked over to an old white dresser with half the knobs
missing that we planned to refinish and put in the revamped
honeymoon suite. I picked up a framed photo of Daisy and
George on their wedding day. The photo had faded over the
years, but you could still tell Daisy was wearing a pink dress
with a sleeveless bodice and puffy tulle skirt that hit just
above her ankles. It looked more like she was going to prom
than getting married. George said it was a bit scandalous in
their day that she showed so much skin on her wedding day
and didn’t wear white. You could tell by the way he was
smiling at Daisy, he was absolutely enchanted by her. Her
blonde hair was in a rounded bouffant with her ends in an
upward curl. She was more than cute; she was stunning,
with her ornery smile and mischievous blue eyes that said
George was in for the ride of his life.
I brushed my fingers over the glass and smiled at
George, all regal in a black tux. He still had hair then,
auburn and slicked back. He was quite the looker.
 “Hi, Daisy,” I whispered. I swore she responded, “It’s
about time you came back up here.”
I took the photo with me and sat in her old rocking chair.
I didn’t have time to dillydally, but I found myself wanting to
just sit with Daisy for a while. Maybe I was hoping she had
some sage advice for me. Not that I didn’t appreciate Izzy’s
words of wisdom, but as she never liked Drake, I wanted a
second opinion. Don’t ask me how I know that Daisy liked
Drake—I just knew. I got the feeling that once upon a time
George was very much like Drake, popular with the girls and
aloof. That perhaps Daisy felt like me, like she would never
be as gorgeous and popular as those girls who fawned all
over the men we loved. But she knew a secret. She knew
she had more to offer George than any of those girls. I used
to think that way about Drake.
“Was I foolish, Daisy? Am I, is probably the better
question?” I waited to see if I felt anything. I didn’t, but I
heard the door open, startling me. I jumped up and held the
photo to my chest, thinking I was surely going to have a
ghostly encounter. I was fine talking to Daisy, but I wasn’t
ready for any manifestations.
George peeked his bald head in, which no longer
sported the wisps of six years ago, as a huge whoosh of air
came out of me. “George, you scared me.”
George shuffled in, breathing hard. The stairs were killer
for him “Sorry, girlie.” He’d come to call me that and I
adored it.
 “It’s okay, I thought you were .  .  . well it sounds crazy,
so never mind.”
“Daisy?” he guessed.
I nodded. “Yes. She lives in this place.”
George looked around and smiled. “She was calling to
me today, too. I think she wanted me to see your guest.” He
gave me a meaningful look.
I sat back down in the rocking chair. “Yeah,” I blew out.
“What a surprise, huh?”
“Always knew he would come back.” He lowered his frail
body onto an old leather trunk. His mischievous brown eyes
were as young as ever, but his body told another story. A
story I didn’t like the ending to.
“You were right. But he’s not staying.”
“You think so?” George gave me that all-knowing smile
of his.
“I know so. He leaves on Sunday.”
“We shall see,” he said, with a twinkle in his eye. “Let
this place work its magic.”
“Oh, George,” I cried. “The magic made Jameson. It’s all
I need.”
“This is a place of wants, too.” He winked.
I wiped an errant tear. “Please don’t give me any hope.
Drake’s life is in LA and ours is here. Besides, he’s angry
with me, and he doesn’t seem to be too sure about the dad
thing.”
“Give him some time, girlie.”
“I’ve been waiting for over six years.”
 “The best happily ever afters take more time.” He
grinned, showing off his stained dentures.
“You are a hopeless romantic.” I smiled.
“Nope. I’m full of hope. You should be too.”
I stood and stretched my back. “I should be working. Do
you want to help me look for some photos for the ball?”
“I’d love to.” He reached for me. “Care to help an old
man up?”
“It would be my honor.” I took a few steps toward him.
He noticed the photo I still held. “Best day of my life,
there,” he said wistfully.
I handed him the photo and instead of helping him up, I
sat next to him so we could both admire it. It was like sitting
next to my grandfather. Such love for George enveloped me.
He leaned on me for support while his eyes misted. “She
was a vision that day. Pretty in pink.” George craned his
head my way. “Have you found a dress for the ball yet?”
“Not yet. Nothing has felt right. Maybe I’ll just wear the
black dress I wore last year.”
“I think I have a better idea.” The corners of his mouth
ticked up.
“You do? Did you hear of a hot sale at one of the
boutiques in town?” We had a few. All pricey and geared
toward the rich tourists this town was known for.
“The dress I’m thinking about won’t cost you a penny.”
I tilted my head, intrigued. “I’m all ears.” Especially
because I loved the no pennies part. This inn was a money
pit. A beautiful, wonderful money pit.
 George held up the photo and it shook. The man
probably shouldn’t be driving, but I wasn’t touching that
subject yet. He pointed at his beloved wife. “I think you
would look perfect in pink too.”
My eyes widened. “You think I should wear Daisy’s
wedding dress?”
He nodded with a gleam in his eyes. “She would love it.”
I shook my head. “I can’t do that. Dresses like that are
meant to be . . . well, I don’t know exactly, but I can’t wear
her wedding dress.” I wasn’t even sure a dress that old
would be in any condition to wear.
George set the photo next to him and took my hands in
his knotted and age-spotted ones. “Girlie, dresses like that
are meant to be passed down to daughters, and you are the
closest thing we ever had to one,” he choked out.
Tears filled my eyes. “I’m so honored you think so,” I
blubbered. “But she didn’t really know me. And I would hate
if anything happened to it.”
“Oh, she knows you. She picked you for this place. She
would want you to wear the dress,” he practically begged
me to consider it.
I swallowed the ball of love down in my throat, knowing
he spoke the truth. I could feel it—feel her. “Do you have the
dress?”
He gave me a crooked grin and pointed at a wooden
hope chest in the corner, one I had looked in many times
but had never noticed a dress. All that was in it were some
old keepsakes—a jewelry box that played music, a book of
pressed flowers, old concert ticket stubs, and the like.
“Have a look,” he said.
I pressed my lips together and narrowed my eyes.
“What are you playing at, old man?” I lovingly teased him.
“Go see for yourself.”
I stood and tiptoed over to the chest with rays of light
dancing across it, like magic stardust. I knelt in front of it
and breathed in the scent of cedar and dreams, hesitant to
disturb the blissful feeling surrounding it.
“Go ahead,” George encouraged me.
I bit my lip and lightly lifted the wooden lid to peek
inside, afraid I wouldn’t find what my mind knew couldn’t be
in there but what my heart said was plausible in this place.
My heart leaped when I saw a white preservation box with a
peek-through window showcasing Daisy’s wedding dress in
all its pink glory. The baby-soft pink was as vibrant as ever,
as far as I could tell.
I lifted the box out, astonished. “When did you put this
in here?”
George wagged his bushy brows. “Who says I did?” He
was such a tease. At least I thought so. The man truly had
me believing in magic at times.
I smiled, not knowing what to believe. “Are you sure
about this? It might not even fit me.”
“It will be perfect. I promise. Why don’t you try it on
now? I’ll give you a moment.” He stood like a man much
younger than him. I hadn’t seen him full of that much
energy in a long time, maybe ever.
“Okay,” I whispered, still mesmerized by the dress, by
George, and by this place.
“Take all the time you need.” George shuffled toward
the door. “I’ll wait outside.”
I sat on the cold, hard floor waiting to hear the door shut
while I stared at the dress, perfectly preserved in the box. It
felt almost wrong to disturb it. “Are you sure about this,
Daisy?” I spoke aloud, once I knew George was on the other
side of the closed door. I shut my eyes to wait for the
answer. It didn’t take long before I felt the rays of the sun
wash over me, warming me. It was like Daisy had picked the
perfect time, knowing when the sun would be in prime
position to help her out. That was all the answer I needed. I
opened my eyes and carefully broke the seal of the box
before lifting the lid.
I took a deep breath and lifted the viewing window,
revealing the dress surrounded by the muslin that had
helped preserve it all these years. As delicately as I could, I
brushed the satin bodice with my fingers. “Please let me
look as beautiful as you did in this dress, Daisy.” I gently
lifted it out of the box, removing any acid-free tissue paper
as needed, until it was free. I held it up in front of me. It was
perfect. Just what I had been looking for, without realizing it
was exactly what I had been searching for, if that made
sense.
 I stood and walked over to the brass free-standing
mirror, away from the windows. I held the dress in front of
me so I could get a good look at it in the mirror. A nervous
excitement coursed through me. I imagined how thrilled
Daisy had been when she’d picked it out. Then I pictured
myself in it, dancing the night away with Jameson .  .  . that
was, until I was in someone else’s arms. Arms I longed to be
in—was meant to be in. I shook thoughts of Drake out of my
head while I rested the gorgeous gown on the nearby chintz
chair. I shimmied out of my overalls; goose bumps followed.
It was a bit chilly in the attic. When I got down to just my
panties, I reverently slipped into the gown, praying it would
fit. It was then I noticed it buttoned up the back. That was
going to be a problem. Darn it. Well, at least I could get a
rough idea how it would look and if it would fit.
Before I stepped back in front of the mirror, I closed my
eyes. I was nervous it wouldn’t live up to all my
expectations. You know, the one where I looked like an
amazingly hot princess. Yes, I had high expectations.
Probably a tad too high. With a realistic breath out, I opened
my eyes. Oh. Wow. Maybe I wasn’t a hot princess, but I felt
beautiful.
While holding the dress closed with one hand behind
me, I scooted closer to the mirror. Uh, I think pink was my
color. Who knew? With my free hand I smoothed my bare
collarbone, imagining a simple string of pearls around my
neck, just like Daisy had worn on her wedding day. I would
trade my messy bun in for a more classic updo. Izzy was
great with hair and would help me. Assuming the buttons
were all intact and I could breathe once it was fastened up, I
was sure I’d found my dress for the ball. From now on I
would call George my fairy godmother. I sure felt like
Cinderella.
Well . . . that was until my prince burst into the room. I
whipped around when I heard the door fly open. I thought it
was George and was a tad miffed he didn’t knock first.
Surely, he knew I couldn’t button up the dress on my own.
Instead, I was taken aback to find Drake standing there, a
bit harried like he’d run up here. I was so shocked I almost
let the dress fall. Thankfully, I caught it in the nick of time
before I gave Drake a show.
“What are you doing in here? I’m indecent.” I backed up,
hoping he wouldn’t get a view of my bare backside in the
mirror.
Drake perused me, giving me that dampened smile of
his. “George said you needed my help.”
“Of course he did.” I rolled my eyes. “He lied. You can
leave now. I’m naked under here,” I said, like an idiot. My
cheeks burned.
Drake inched closer, his dampened smile turning sultrier
with each step he took. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,”
he reminded me.
Believe me, I hadn’t forgotten. I cleared my throat.
“That was a long time ago.” I backed up until I hit the mirror.
Drake drew ever closer. He had the Patrick Swayze vibes
going for him. Oh crap.
 “You should go,” I whispered, half-heartedly.
“I think you need my help,” he said so sexily, the
butterflies were not only pole dancing, but some of them
had moved on to . . . well . . . I won’t mention it.
I needed help all right. “I don’t.” I held on to the dress
for dear life.
Drake stood inches away from me. His eyes taking me in
and reeling me in all at the same time. “You are beautiful,”
he said so quietly, I wasn’t sure I heard him right.
“It’s the dress,” I stuttered.
“No, it’s all you.” He stepped closer.
I stopped breathing. A war was going on inside me. I
wanted him to close the distance, take me into his arms and
feel his lips on my skin. But I knew I couldn’t let him, unless
he intended to keep me there forever.
He paused and blinked, as if he’d been under a spell
and was coming out of it. “Where did you get the ball
gown?” The magic of the moment went right out the
window.
I was finally able to take a breath. “It’s Daisy’s wedding
gown; George thought I should wear it to the ball. I was
trying it on, but it buttons up the back,” I rambled. “And now
I’m in this awkward situation.”
Drake chuckled. “I don’t feel awkward.”
“Well, I’m a mortal, unlike you.”
“I beg to differ: you look like a goddess in that dress,”
he crooned.
 “Will you please go?” I begged, before I did something
foolish and kissed him for saying sexy things like that to me.
“Let me button up the dress for you so you can see how
it fits.” He didn’t miss a beat.
“It will fit just fine.”
He tilted his head. “Are you sure?”
“Pretty sure,” I stammered. His presence had me feeling
unsteady and totally unsure.
“You don’t sound too confident.” He closed the distance.
His broody, let-me-own-you scent began doing its job and
taking over my brain cells—and my soul.
It led me down the fatal-error path. I looked right into
his eyes. Those sea-green babies were still a mystical
wonderland. In them, I saw how beautiful he thought I was.
And I believed him. I loved and hated him for it.
To prove the truthfulness reflecting in his eyes, he
whispered, “Charlotte, turn around and see how beautiful
you are.”
Without even thinking, I turned around, exposing my
backside to him. That thought snapped me out of my Drake-
induced trance. “Don’t look,” I warned him through the
mirror.
“Too late.” He smirked.
I pressed the dress tighter against my breasts, lest he
get a peek of those babies.
“You are adorable.” He went to work buttoning up the
dress.
“Still don’t like to be called that,” I warned him.
 “I don’t know why.” He was able to button the dress and
look at me at the same time. No doubt he had a lot of
practice with all his girlfriends.
“You know why.”
“Anyone can be beautiful, Charlotte. And you are, but no
one is as charming as you.”
“Is that what you mean by adorable?” I hadn’t thought
of it like that. I thought he meant I was like a cute, perky
puppy. Charming I could get on board with. You know, if he
was planning on sharing a board with me.
“Yes.” He ran a finger over the bare skin in the middle of
my back, making me shiver.
“What are you doing?” I could hardly ask. His touch was
making all my glands shout.
“I missed your heart-shaped birthmark.”
It had missed him too. I thought of all the times he’d
kissed it that weekend. I really shouldn’t have. My heart
started to race. “Just hurry,” I pleaded. I was losing my
ability to not make a foolish choice with him.
“Why? I’m enjoying this.”
I was too, but . . . I caught his eye in the mirror. “Drake,
you’re leaving in two days. I mean, what are we even doing
here?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Hell if I know.” All the
sexy playfulness in his voice was gone.
“Oh.” I was hoping maybe he knew—that he had finally
figured out what I’ve always known about us. I stepped
away from him. “I think the dress will fit. You can go now.
Thank you.”
He tugged on the dress, not willing to let go. “What do
you want from me, Charlotte?” he pleaded to know, even
though he had asked the same question before.
We stared at each other through the mirror. I could
physically see the weight of the unknown pain he carried.
My answer hadn’t changed all that much. “Let me in,
Drake. Let me and Jameson into your life. Be human,” I
begged.
He closed his eyes, his jaw clenching. “Charlotte . . .” He
swallowed hard. “I don’t know if I can, after what I’ve done. I
don’t deserve a family of my own.”
I spun around, holding on to the half-buttoned dress,
lest I completely expose myself to him. “What do you think
you’ve done? Everyone deserves a family.”
His eyes flew open; the pain was now burning in them.
“I don’t.” He was curt and to the point.
“Yes, you do.” I refused to believe him.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he spewed,
while he stepped away from me.
“Please don’t go. Just tell me the truth. Whatever it is,
I’ll help you. We’ll get through it together.”
He placed more distance between us. “No, Charlotte.
You can’t fix this one. I won’t let you.”
“Why?” I cried.
“Because I’m a terrible person. I need you to believe
that.”
 “I wish I could.” A solitary tear leaked out of the corner
of my eye.
“Someday you will,” he said, as defeated as I had ever
heard anyone sound. He glanced over me from head to toe.
“What I wouldn’t give to dance with you at the ball.”
Without another word, he turned around and strode out the
door like his demons were chasing him.
I plopped down on the cold, hard floor, in a sea of tulle,
feeling like Cinderella after her fairy godmother’s magic had
worn off. But instead of my dress being tattered and torn, it
was my heart. It hurt so much that I couldn’t cry. It was as if
a void had overtaken me. It was as if my soul had let go and
she mourned for her mate.
The magic was gone.

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 Chapter Fourteen
“One, two, three, go!” Jameson shouted.
Izzy, Jameson, and I took off running in our socks. Just
the three of us. Our “guests” were upstairs. Drake
apparently wasn’t feeling well. Right. The jerk hadn’t even
come down for dinner. It was probably better that way. I
didn’t need Jameson to like him or get to know him better,
knowing the man didn’t think he could choose us. Martez
hadn’t come down either, after Izzy had told him she was
still working through things after her divorce and wasn’t
ready for any kind of relationship. I had a feeling Izzy and I
were headed for the Jane Austen life of spinsterhood. I
mean, our names were straight out of one of her books. It
was destiny. That made it sound much more palatable. Who
was I to interfere with fate?
We all slid, and Izzy must have felt so sorry for me, she
didn’t try to hold me back. After I had extricated myself
from the perfect dress, I’d been walking around like a
zombie, feeling like half a person. That soul mate stuff was
serious business. I had even googled what happens when
soul mates are torn apart. Of course, the world wide web
was indecisive. I was either going to reinvent and rejuvenate
my soul, or my soul was going to do everything possible to
hook up with Drake’s, making me miserable until I died. I
was really hoping for the first option.
Then there was George. He believed in a third option—
Drake and I would get our happily ever after. I was thinking
of taking him in for a CAT scan next week. These delusions
of his couldn’t be healthy. Especially for my heart, which
was why I wasn’t going to entertain the thought, ever.
Jameson squealed while he glided across the polished
wood floor. That sound did more to heal my heart than
anything could—even thinking that Izzy’s theory about
Drake was right. She guessed he was part of the mafia and
he couldn’t have a family, to protect Jameson and me from
his “family.” I had to say, she was awfully gleeful when she
spoke about turning him in to the authorities. I think she
really thought Drake was a gun for hire or something like
that. That’s just what I wanted to tell Jameson someday.
“Sorry, honey, but your dad killed people and now he’s
buried under twenty feet of concrete. Don’t worry, though, it
shouldn’t be hereditary.”
As much fun as that theory was, I was positive Drake’s
issues did have something to do with his family. His real
family, not his crime one. The way he rarely spoke of them,
and how he hadn’t let me go to Jameson’s funeral with him,
hinted at something deeper. Never once had I seen his
mother or father. He barely even acknowledged that he had
parents. Add that to some of the things he had said in his
deepest grief, about how Jameson had wanted Drake to
make the things right he hadn’t been brave enough to
mend. When I’d asked what he’d meant, he went right back
to inhuman mode. Yet, I knew then, like I know now, his grief
runs deeper than just losing his brother. Well, now he could
add Jameson and me to the list of things he’d lost. And it
was his loss.
I looked at my Jameson, so happy, wrapping his arms
around Izzy’s legs trying to bring her down. I smiled, so
proud. Maybe I should sign him up for football. All I knew
was that whatever Jameson did, I was going to cheer him
on. We didn’t need Drake. In fact, I was going to tell him to
leave tomorrow. No sense in prolonging the inevitable or
having him making more promises to my son he probably
wasn’t going to keep. I would find a way myself to introduce
Jameson to Buddy the elf.
While I was thinking of who I might know in Hollywood
with some connections, a harried Martez appeared, just as I
saved Izzy from hitting the floor after Jameson had knocked
her off-kilter.
“Charlotte,” Martez said out of breath. “Drake’s not
doing well.”
At first my heart stilled, which was annoying because it
shouldn’t care if Drake was sick. Besides, I wasn’t his
mommy or his assistant anymore. But then I remembered
something about good ole Drake. He was a total baby when
he was sick. Which wasn’t very often. “Just give him some
cold medicine and tell him to get some sleep. He’ll survive
his man cold just fine.” I turned back around, ready for some
more sliding with my kiddo.
“He doesn’t have a cold. He’s in so much pain, he’s
vomiting.” Martez sounded worried. Too worried.
 I whipped back around in total TLC mode. I was
hopeless. “What’s wrong with him?”
“I don’t know. He was complaining about his back
hurting earlier, so I left him to rest. I was just coming down
to get something to eat when I heard him moaning, so I
went to check on him. He doesn’t look good. He’s pale and
sweating profusely.”
I didn’t think twice. I rushed past Martez, down the hall,
and up the stairs. My only thought was to help Drake. I
guess my soul was going for option two—hooking up with
Drake’s soul until I died a miserable death. Good times.
When I got to the top of the stairs, I could hear Drake
crying out in pain. I sprinted down the hall to the
honeymoon suite. I flung the door open but didn’t see
Drake. Then I heard him moan. I jetted toward the
bathroom. There I found him lying on the floor, curled up in
a ball, in only a pair of jeans. The stench of the room said he
had definitely vomited, which kept me from ogling his half-
naked body. A terrible thought popped into my head. What if
Izzy poisoned him? Not like fatally, but like food poisoning.
She had been pretty chipper this afternoon. Surely, she
wouldn’t. Right?
Whatever his ailment, I knelt next to him. I had never
seen him like this before. Not even his man colds had
rendered him so helpless.
“Drake.” I swiped his burning brow. “What’s wrong?”
He barely had the energy to open his eyes. “I don’t
know, but I think death would be better than this.”
 “So, it is a man cold,” I teased even though I was
shaking, afraid for him.
He let out the smallest chuckle. “Charlotte,” he
managed to say, but couldn’t articulate anything past that.
“I’m here.” I brushed his clammy cheek with my hand.
“We’re going to get you to the ER. Hang tight.” One thing I
knew—Drake would hate it if I called for an ambulance.
I stood and yelled out the door, “Izzy!”
She, Martez, and Jameson all appeared. I’m not sure I
wanted Jameson to witness this, but it was too late to
change it, and time was of the essence.
“Izzy, can you please watch Jameson? Martez, I need
you to help me get Drake down to my car. I’m taking him to
the hospital.” I said it all so fast, I wasn’t sure if anyone
comprehended what had just come out of my mouth. But
Izzy wrapped her arms around a wide-eyed Jameson and
said, “Of course.” Martez hopped to it and headed for Drake.
“Is Drake okay?” Jameson asked, in his I’m-scared-
Mommy-don’t-leave-me voice.
I knelt in front of my son and placed a hand on his warm
cheek. “He’s going to be okay. I promise.” I wasn’t sure how
I knew that, but I wasn’t lying when I said it.
“Okay.” Jameson nodded. “I’ll make him a card and he
can take my teddy bear.”
“You are the sweetest,” my voice hitched. I loved my kid
so much. I kissed his head and stood.
“Go. Go.” Izzy waved me away. “I’ve got Jameson. We’ll
have a movie and hot cocoa party.” Even she sounded
worried. Hopefully that wasn’t the sound of guilt because
she’d poisoned Drake.
Martez came out of the bathroom supporting Drake,
who could barely stand on his own. I knew this was
humiliating to him. But shamefully, I was more focused on
his body. Holy crap, the man had some abs. Stop ogling him,
Charlotte; he looks like death. I just had to say, if that’s
what death looked like, no one had anything to fear.
Drake, as sick as he was, only seemed to have eyes for
Jameson. He locked in on our son and kept opening his
mouth as if he wanted to tell him something, but in typical
Drake fashion, the words never came. But they didn’t have
to. Jameson wriggled out of Izzy’s arms and came flying at
Drake. He wrapped his arms around Drake’s leg, as if he
knew Drake was someone more to him than the cool guy
who was in movies. “Do you want my teddy bear?” Jameson
asked him.
Tears streamed down my face watching the scene
before me. To me, it was the first real moment between
father and son.
Drake looked down at Jameson, and then his eyes
drifted up to meet mine. It was as if he were silently asking
me what to do. I didn’t have the answer for him this time.
He’d made his choice. Or so I thought. I watched in awe as
Drake tenderly brushed his hand over Jameson’s curly locks,
touching them as if he wanted to memorize every strand of
his hair. “I could use a good teddy bear.”
 Jameson tipped his head up and grinned. “I’ll be right
back.” He raced out of the room.
Meanwhile, I was blubbering. I really hoped Drake didn’t
think he was dying and that this was his deathbed way of
trying to fix everything before he met his maker.
Izzy even wiped a tear off her cheek. I prayed she
hadn’t poisoned him.
It was slow going, getting Drake in a shirt and then
down the stairs. Poor man was dry heaving all while writhing
in pain. The only reprieve he had was when Jameson handed
him his bear on our way out the door. It worked its magic for
a small moment. At least long enough for Drake to say
thank you.
I’d never seen a grown man clutch a teddy bear as
tightly as Drake did, while he moaned in the passenger seat
as I drove like Mario Andretti to the small hospital in town. I
was more than grateful it wasn’t snowing tonight. At least
not yet.
“Do you think it was something you ate?” Please let him
say no. I punched the accelerator on the two-lane road
leading to town.
“I don’t think so.” He gripped Mr. TJ, as Jameson liked to
call his fluffy brown bear.
That was a relief. We didn’t have time for Izzy to go to
jail.
“I know this probably isn’t the best time to bring this up,
but you know this means people are going to find out you’re
in town, and that we obviously know each other. Which
means . . .”
“I know, Charlotte,” he breathed out laboriously.
“You’ll hurt Jameson if he finds out who you are and that
you don’t want him,” I choked out.
Drake rested his head on the cool glass of the
passenger window. “I never said I didn’t want him.”
“But you’re leaving, and earlier—”
“Arghhhh,” he let out a gut-wrenching sound. “Do you
think we could discuss this later?”
“Yes. Sorry.” I reached over and placed my hand on his
thigh.
He placed a clammy hand on top of mine. “I’m the sorry
one, Charlotte.”
I just prayed this night didn’t cause a need for more
apologies, because I had a feeling I was about to be
exposed.

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 Chapter Fifteen
“I think the nurses are fighting over who gets to take
your vitals.” I grinned over the clipboard filled with Drake’s
paperwork that I’d been working on. I knew most
everything, right down to his social security number. He was
so lucky I was a stand-up kind of gal.
Due to Drake’s celebrity status, we were already in a
private room in the ER. Not that he would be seen before
the other waiting patients, but he had caused quite the stir
in the waiting room when we’d walked in, so the attendant
brought us back right away. The gawking, whispers, and
phones snapping pictures from the few people in the waiting
area was ridiculous. The man was obviously very ill. My
guess was those pictures had been texted out already. My
secret was on the verge of collapsing.
“I don’t care who the hell does it,” he gritted is teeth,
gripping the sheet on the hospital bed. “I just need them to
tell me what’s wrong with me.”
“I have a list,” I teased, trying to lighten the moment.
He gave me a strained smile. “We can discuss that later,
too.”
“Sounds like fun,” I quipped.
He moaned in pain again.
I set the paperwork aside, scooted my chair closer, and
took his hand. I held it tightly between my own. I even found
myself kissing his hand. My lips on his skin felt too right.
“I’m here,” I whispered, like that would help somehow.
 He gently swiped my bangs with his free hand.
“Charlotte, in case something happens to me, contact
Quinn.” Quinn was his personal attorney.
“Drake, you’re going to be fine.” Please let him be fine, I
silently begged God.
“Charlotte, please listen to me,” he breathed out. “I
want to make sure you and Jameson are taken care of. I left
you most of my estate.”
I shook my head. “What? You barely found out about
Jameson,” I said quietly, even though we were in a private
room with the door shut. “When did you have time to do
that?”
He mustered up some strength to run a finger down my
cheek. “You’ve been my beneficiary for years.”
“Me?” I pointed at my chest “Why?”
“You’re the only person I trust.”
I blinked a hundred times, trying to process what he’d
just told me. I was absolutely stunned. When he said his
estate, I knew what that mostly entailed. It was an
overwhelming thought. One I didn’t want to think about.
“Drake, I don’t want your money.”
“I know, it’s why I’m leaving it to you.”
“Is that the only reason?” I dared to ask. You don’t just
leave your megafortune to your old assistant. At least I
hoped not.
He swallowed hard. “No.”
“Care to elaborate?” I felt like we’d had this
conversation before. As I remember, it didn’t turn out all
that well. You know, except for us getting all cozy that
weekend—and unbeknownst to us, making a baby. So,
maybe it had all turned out okay. But this time, I needed
more.
He closed his eyes and squeezed my hand. “Charlotte, I
—”
“Knock, knock.” A raven-haired beauty popped her head
in, ruining what could have been my moment. Dang her.
“I’m Evie,” she said, all perky in her form-fitting yellow
scrubs. Did she have those things tailored to fit every
contour of her voluptuous body? “I just need to ask you a
few questions and take your vitals.” That’s what came out of
her mouth. Her eyes were saying, I’m going to touch you all
over and pray I get to help you into a backless gown.
My eyes were saying, Keep your hands and your eyes to
yourself. Thank you very much. I’m the man’s beneficiary.
That sounded romantic.
Evie pulled up a chair on his other side near the
computer without even acknowledging my presence. Wow.
That had me scooting closer to Drake and shamelessly
smoothing his fevered brow, like I was marking my territory.
Which I knew was ridiculous, considering the day’s earlier
events. I blame my soul. It’s not my fault it was going to
constantly be searching for Drake’s. I didn’t make the soul
mate rules.
Drake gave me a half-smile. Even in his current state it
sent the butterflies into a tizzy.
 “When did the pain start?” Evie asked, while narrowing
her eyes on Drake’s and my clasped hands.
That’s right, sweetheart, we are totally in a weird
platonic relationship—you know, except for that one
weekend. That could be the title to my memoir: That One
Weekend by Charlotte Valentine.
Drake closed his eyes like he was trying to think. “Uh
. . . early this afternoon, I started having sharp pains in my
back.”
“Upper, middle, or lower?” she asked.
“Middle, left side.”
“Any history of kidney stones?” She typed some info into
the computer.
“None,” Drake responded.
“But he mainlines energy drinks,” I added, praying all he
had was kidney stones. They couldn’t pin that on Izzy.
“Hmm,” Evie said, not even acknowledging me.
I wasn’t surprised. She was probably wondering what
Drake Foster was doing with someone like me—in paint-
splattered overalls, my hair up in a messy bun, with a
bandana tied around my head. I looked like I belonged in a
Bananarama music video. I’d seen the videos of them at the
roller rink here in town. They were a bit before my time, but
we were obviously kindred spirits.
Evie asked a few more questions, and then it happened,
just like I knew it would. She started fangirling over him
while taking his temperature. “Oh my gosh, I loved you in All
Thrills. You totally should have won the Oscar. And your last
Kaden Chandler movie was dreamy.”
I rolled my eyes, not caring if she saw me. “Can you
please give him something for the pain?” Maybe focus on
your job? I wanted to add in.
She squinted her eyes at me. “We can’t give him
anything until we know what’s going on.”
“Then can you get someone in here who can give him a
diagnosis?”
I think she opened her mouth to say something snotty
to me, but before she could get it out, Drake raised my hand
and kissed it. That had her spluttering. Me too. He’d never
shown me any affection like that in a public setting. Did that
mean something to him? Was he rethinking the whole
human thing?
“The doctor will be in soon,” she said, all flustered, and
walked out.
“You are going to have this town talking,” I sighed,
unsure how I felt about it all.
“I know. I’m sorry.” He kissed my hand again.
“We need to talk.”
“We will,” he assured me.
“Good, because I still don’t want you.” I smirked.
“And I’m still angry with you.” He smiled the best he
could.
“Perfect.” I rested my head on his bed, emotionally and
physically exhausted.
 After a few minutes, Drake began to play with my hair.
“Charlotte . . . you’re the only person I would want here with
me.”
I raised my head, confused and touched by his
openness. “I bet you say that to every girl who drives you to
the hospital,” I teased.
“Since you’re the only one to fit that bill, I guess you’re
it, then.” He caressed my cheek.
I wanted to ask if I was it, but the doctor finally arrived.
Dr. Shawn Roosevelt—the most eligible bachelor in town
according to the town gossip, really Izzy, as she was truly
my only source of gossip. He was attractive, with his to-die-
for smooth black skin and athletic physique. According to
Izzy, he had played college football. His bright smile didn’t
hurt either.
“Hello, I’m Dr. Roosevelt.” He directed his greeting at
me.
“Hi, I’m—”
“Charlotte Valentine,” Dr. Roosevelt finished for me.
I tilted my head, surprised he knew who I was.
“You’re the new owner of the inn.”
I nodded.
“I’m coming to the ball. It’s the hottest ticket in town.”
He grinned.
“That’s great news.” I returned his smile.
Drake cleared his throat while glaring at the doctor.
Dr. Roosevelt turned his attention to the patient. “And
you are Drake Foster. The reason the staff is going crazy
tonight.” He took the seat vacated by Evie. “Let’s figure out
what’s going on with you.”
That’s what I wanted to say to Drake, but you know,
more on an emotional level.
Dr. Roosevelt looked over Drake’s chart in the computer.
“I’d like to do a CT scan and a KUB X-ray.”
“Do you think it’s kidney stones?” I asked.
“It’s hard to tell, but we will know soon enough.” Dr.
Roosevelt put his stethoscope in his ears.
“Can you at least give him something for the pain?
Please.”
Dr. Roosevelt stood and hovered above Drake. “We’ll
make sure he’s comfortable as soon as we get some tests
run.” He did the doctor things, like listening to his heart and
lungs and feeling around his abdomen. I could tell the
doctor, from personal experience, that his abs were perfect.
Once he was done examining Drake, he gave me a toothy
grin. “A nurse will be in soon to take him down to imaging.”
He paused. “Save a space for me on your dance card.” He
shuffled his feet as if he were embarrassed.
“I will,” I said, a little flustered myself. It wasn’t every
day a handsome doctor asked me to dance, especially in
front of the gorgeous object of my soul’s desire.
“Great. I’ll be back in to check on you . . . I mean him.”
He pointed at Drake before he rushed out.
“I don’t like him,” Drake growled as soon as the door
was shut.
 “He seems competent.” I pulled Drake’s blanket up to
make sure he was warm.
“He was coming on to you.” Drake captured my hand.
“And that makes him incompetent?” I raised my brow.
“No, that’s the smartest thing that came out of his
mouth.” Drake channeled his pain into venting.
“So, what you’re saying is .  .  . you’re jealous?” I sang,
probably a little too gleefully, but this was kind of a big deal
for me.
Drake squeezed my hand like he was having a
contraction, yet his eyes stayed focused on my own. “Yes,”
he admitted.
This was excellent news. But . . . I leaned in. “What are
you going to do about it?”
He closed his eyes and let out a slow exhale.
I waited with bated breath for his reply, my heart
pounding. Was I a fool for even holding out any hope for us?
For him? Did he think he was dying, so he didn’t care what
he said? I had a lot of questions.
“I’m going to see how magical you really are.”
“What does that mean?”
He opened his eyes. “It means you’re going to find out
why I’m such a terrible person.”
“Like on a scale from one to ten, how terrible are you
really?” Inquiring minds needed to know.
“An eleven,” he deadpanned, without even thinking
about it.
 “Oh,” I said, in a pitch well above my normal range.
“Well, I’ll be extra magical, then. You know, unless you killed
somebody. My magic has its limits,” I teased, but couldn’t
have been more serious. If he really had offed someone, I
was out of there—and Jameson and I were hitting the
witness protection program.
“I didn’t kill anyone,” he whispered. “But I might as well
have,” his voice cracked with such guilt and emotion.
As curious as I was to learn what he had done, all I could
do was ache for him. “We’ll figure it out,” I promised. We
had to because I refused to let my soul keep searching for
his until I died a miserable death.

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 Chapter Sixteen
Well, Drake wasn’t dying. Instead, he was going to give
birth to a three-millimeter spiky stone in about a week or
two. Mazel tov.
As much as I didn’t like to see him in such pain, I
thought it was only fair. I mean, I pushed out his nine-pound
baby without drugs. And there he was, resting peacefully
with Jameson’s teddy bear after they pumped him full of the
good stuff, whatever that meant. They weren’t admitting
him to the hospital, but since he was dehydrated, they were
keeping him for a few hours to monitor his vitals and push
IV fluids. I honestly think it was because some of the nurses
didn’t want to see him go.
I sat next to his bed and watched his chest move up and
down in a fluid motion, wondering what secrets he kept and
how much longer I could hold on to mine. I knew once the
news got out, a firestorm awaited us. The media was going
to be all over it like a sweaty body rolled in sand. How was I
going to explain to Jameson that Drake was his father and
what that meant for us? Drake was no ordinary human.
Sure, he put his pants on one leg at a time like the rest of
us, but those pants cost a thousand dollars and he sent
them out to be laundered. Then there was the matter of
Drake making me his beneficiary. Why would he do such a
thing, after not contacting me for so long? We had so much
to discuss, but I needed him to be lucid.
 Whatever they had given him made him loopy. We’re
talking loopity loopy. Before he’d fallen asleep, he’d grabbed
my shirt and pulled me close to his face and asked, “Have
you always had blue eyes?” I’d giggled and said yes. “They
are so beautiful,” he responded, and then passed out.
I wondered if I could get whatever he was on. I was
exhausted and could use a good snooze before my life
imploded. And I knew it was going to. I had worked for
Drake long enough to know how this was all going to go—it
was just a matter of when the pin dropped. That’s why I
needed Drake to wake up. We needed to figure things out
before the world closed in on us. Before I had reporters
begging for details and trying to snap pictures of my son.
I curled into myself on the uncomfortable chair and
rested my head on my knees. It was almost midnight, and
my body begged for some sort of rest—even in the small,
sterile room decorated with posters of what smoking does to
your body. While contemplating all my life choices, I must
have dozed off, as I startled awake to the sound of my
name.
“Charlotte,” Drake whispered.
My eyes popped open, while my feet hit the floor. “Are
you okay? Can I get you anything?” I automatically said,
half-asleep.
“I’m fine. You look uncomfortable.” He didn’t sound high
anymore.
“I am.” I stretched my back.
 He patted the spot next to him on the bed. “Come lie
down.”
I gripped the arms of the chair before I did something
stupid and accepted his invitation. “Uh . . . I remember what
happened the last time you invited me into your bed.” Did I
ever. I felt flush all of a sudden.
He gave me a sexy, albeit sleepy, smile—saying he
remembered too. “As I recall, it was you who came out of
the bathroom in just a towel, knowing exactly what you
were doing.”
Yeah, I had. I bit my lip. “Regardless, I don’t think it’s a
good idea.”
“Charlotte, I’m half-drugged and we’re in a hospital
room; I think it’s a safe bet that nothing will happen. Unless
you decide to accost me again.” He smirked.
“Hey, I did not accost you. It was a mutual accosting.”
“Yes, it was mutual.”
“Do you regret it, Drake?” I had to know.
“Not once,” he said without having to think about it.
“Now come lie down. You have to be exhausted.”
I was. So, so exhausted. But .  .  . “If a nurse comes in
here and sees us in bed together, do you know the rumors
that would start?”
“Charlotte, you knew the minute we walked in here
together what people were going to think. We can’t stop
that now.”
“I know,” I sighed.
 He set Mr. TJ to the side and lifted up his blanket. “Come
here.”
His invitation was too tempting, and my body begged to
lie down, so I found myself crawling into bed with Drake.
Izzy was of course back to yelling at me, in my head, telling
me I was making another huge mistake. I tried to tame her
by reminding her I was a mother now and could control
myself. Not to mention he was hooked to an IV and we were
in a hospital room—where at any moment someone could,
and certainly would, come walking in. There was nothing to
fear—you know, other than me feeling right at home in
Drake’s arms.
He wrapped his arms around me and I snuggled right
into his chest, breathing in his moody own-me scent. My
soul sighed and intertwined with his, feeling whole again.
Oh, that was dangerous. There were no guarantees here. I
didn’t even know exactly what I was dealing with, yet I felt
at peace lying next to him. A peace I hadn’t felt in a long
time.
Drake kissed my head. “Thank you, Charlotte.”
“For what?”
“Being here.”
“You’re welcome. How are you feeling?”
“Better. The pressure is gone.”
“That’s good. I hope you listen to me now and quit
drinking those energy drinks.” I’d known he was going to
get kidney stones one day.
“I’ll think about it.” I heard the smile in his voice.
 “Drake, we have some other things to think about. Big
things.”
“I know.” He played with a strand of my hair.
“What are we going to tell Jameson?” My voice hitched.
He was the person I worried about the most in this situation.
I didn’t care if I led a lonely, miserable life searching for
Drake’s soul. As long as Jameson was happy, that’s all that
mattered to me.
“The truth.”
“What is the truth?” I begged to know.
His heart thumped harder and louder, making me
nervous. “Charlotte, this isn’t easy for me.”
“I know you’re not a man of many words, but maybe if
you finally say them out loud, you’ll feel better.”
“It’s not that simple.” He paused. “I destroyed lives,” he
whispered. “I don’t want to destroy yours too.”
I leaned away, so caught off guard by what he’d just
said, but also so I could look into his troubled eyes. Eyes
that were begging for relief. I reached up and my fingers
grazed his stubbled jaw. “Keeping yourself and the truth
from me will only do more damage,” I assured him.
“You don’t know that,” he breathed out.
“Yes, I do.” I remained firm. “I know you think you’ve
been protecting me all these years, but you were only
hurting me.”
He let out a heavy sigh before resting his lips on my
forehead. His warm lips sent a searing shiver down my
spine.
 “Charlotte, I never wanted to hurt you.”
“Then stop and tell me the truth. Tell me why you
pushed me out of your life.”
He pulled me closer and rested his chin on my head.
“The last night we were together, and you fell asleep in my
arms, I didn’t want to let you go. I kept thinking about how
we could make it work, but then you said something in your
sleep.”
“I don’t talk in my sleep.” At least I didn’t think so. Izzy
had never said anything, and I knew she would if I did.
“You did that night.”
“What did I say?”
“You said . . .”—he swallowed hard—“you said you loved
me.”
I stilled in his arms, my body ablaze. “And you believed
me?” I wanted to play it off, but my heart couldn’t lie to
either of our souls.
“You are the only woman I have ever believed when
she’s told me that.”
How many other women had said those words to Drake?
Never mind, I had other pressing questions. “And that was
so terrible for you?” I choked out, basically admitting I’d
been in love with him.
“No, damn it. I wanted to run away with you and make
love to you every day for the rest of my life.”
That sounded like an okay plan to me.
“But I couldn’t.”
“Why?” I whispered, my heart readying itself to break.
 “Because, I didn’t deserve marriage and a family after
.  .  . after .  .  . destroying my parents’ marriage and their
lives.”
I popped up and propped myself on his chest. I noticed a
misty sheen in his eyes, though he was trying to avoid my
gaze. “Drake, a lot of kids blame themselves for their
parents’ divorce, but it’s never true.”
His steely gaze hit me. “It’s almost never true, but I
made my mother choose between me and my father. She
has regretted her choice ever since.”
“I don’t understand.”
“That’s because you’re a good person.”
“So are you. I wouldn’t love you if you weren’t,” came
flying out of my mouth before I could stop it. Stupid soul. “I
mean, I wouldn’t have loved you back then, because it
would be ridiculous if I was still in love with you. I don’t even
want you, so don’t take that the wrong way,” I rambled like
a fool, trying poorly to cover up the biggest slip of the
tongue ever. Oh, Izzy was going to be in such a tizzy over
this. Possibly even more than I currently was.
With an amused expression, he cupped my burning-in-
hell cheek with his hand. “Your mouth keeps saying you
don’t want me, but your eyes say it all.”
“I think you’re reading them wrong,” I responded, like a
breathy teenager ready to have all her dreams come true.
“No, I’m reading them exactly right. They are begging
for me.”
I shut my eyes, the traitors. “You are so full of yourself.”
 He ran his hand up my cheek into my hair, pulling my
face close enough to where I could feel his breath dance
across my skin. It had all my systems wound up and praising
the heavens above.
“Am I?” His warm lips brushed across my nose, then my
cheek.
“Yes,” I stuttered out.
“Then tell me to stop and I will.”
That was probably a good idea, seeing as we were in a
hospital bed, and, you know, we had some serious things to
iron out. But my endocrine system shouted, “Tell him to stop
and we’ll stab you in the thyroid gland.” Apparently, that
particular system was violent.
“Do you want me to stop?” Drake whispered above my
lips.
The honest answer was, “No. But just for the record, this
is you accosting me first.”
“I can live with that.” His lips crashed into mine and my
soul sang, Glory hallelujah. He did this magical thing where
his tongue gently glided over my lower lip while all our limbs
tangled together, IV line included. It sent shivers so strong
down the length of my body, making me tremble in his
arms. He groaned, knowing that was all him, while his
tongue overtook my mouth, dancing with my own and
sweeping every part until he tasted everything.
Minute upon minute we got reacquainted with each
other, falling into the perfect rhythm of touching and
tasting, as if we had never been apart. I would gasp and he
would groan. My fingers would skim over his bare skin, and
he would press his hand against my back, begging my body
to get closer—as if it were possible.
It was in a word, beautiful.
Until . . . “I’m here to check . . .”
Drake and I broke apart and stared at a flustered nurse,
so red in the face she looked about ready to have a stroke.
“I see you’re feeling fine,” she managed to say, before
hightailing it out of the room.
“Look what you’ve done.” I cringed. Soon the whole
world was going to know I was making out with Drake Foster
in his hospital bed.
“Me?” He nuzzled my neck. “You were a full participant.”
He had me there.
“But you started it.”
“No, you did, the day you walked into my life.” His eyes
bored into mine. “The best day of my life.”
My heart got caught in my throat, rendering me
speechless for half a beat. “Do you mean that?”
“I will never lie to you.”
“We have a lot to talk about.”
“We will. Later.” His lips found mine again.
Later worked for me. Oh, Hallelujah.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Seventeen
“I can’t believe you were making out with him in the
hospital.” Izzy beat the eggs I was going to use for omelets
with a vengeance.
I set down the knife I was using to chop some veggies
and leaned against the butcher-block counter I was so in
love with. “It’s not one of my prouder moments, I admit, but
you weren’t there—although you were shouting loudly in my
head, thank you very much.”
She dropped the whisk in the bowl of eggs. “You should
have listened to me.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t make the soul mate rules.”
She folded her arms. “Soul mate rules? What are
those?”
“Well, apparently, one of them is if you’re in a hospital
bed together, you have to kiss.”
She grimaced.
“Sorry, it’s not my fault I’m a rule-abiding citizen.”
“Char, why were you in a bed with him in the first place?
In a hospital, no less.”
“Um, hello, if you haven’t noticed, I haven’t gotten
much sleep the last several nights, which by the way is your
fault. May I remind you that you invited Drake here.”
Izzy pinched the bridge of her nose. “Obviously, I regret
that.”
“Why? Because he wants to be part of Jameson’s life?
Isn’t that what you wanted?”
 She narrowed her eyes at me. “Are you sure that’s what
he wants?”
I stepped closer to her and took her slender hand. “Izzy,
I know how hard this is. Believe me, I do. And I know what
you’re really worried about.” She didn’t want me to get my
heart broken. “I’m worried too, which is why I told Drake we
are going to keep it mostly platonic for the time being.”
“What does ‘mostly’ platonic mean?”
“Like I said, I can’t break any soul mate rules. I might
have to kiss him sometimes to comply. Besides, my
endocrine system has threatened to stab me in my thyroid
gland if I miss out on, let’s say, certain opportunities.” I slyly
grinned.
She rolled her eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Izzy.” I squeezed her hand. “Drake wants to make a go
of this.” I could hardly believe those words myself, but it
was true. Last night, he’d told me all he could think of while
lying on the bathroom floor thinking he was dying was that
he’d regretted all the time we had spent apart, and that he
wasn’t going to get to see his son grow up. As a side note,
only a man would think he was dying from some sharp back
pain.
“And what makes you believe that he’s even capable of
that?”
I let out a long sigh. “He finally opened up to me last
night. He hasn’t told me everything yet, but he has some
big hurts from his past that have made him feel unworthy of
having a family of his own.” I paused. “Izzy, I want Drake to
be part of our family,” I choked out.
She let go of my hand and turned from me, gripping the
counter.
I slid up next to her. “Izzy, please don’t be mad at me. I
swear, I’m not going into this blindly or foolishly. For the first
time in a long time, I feel like my soul is at peace.”
“You and your soul mates,” she groaned.
“I know it sounds crazy, but it would be crazier for me to
deny it. Izzy, I’ve always known he’s the one. And we have a
child together.”
She said nothing, though she closed her eyes and
gripped the counter tighter.
“Come on, Izzy. You know how this feels.” I didn’t say
with whom, as Jared was dead to me now.
She turned toward me with tears in her eyes. “No, Char,
I don’t know how it feels.”
I tilted my head. “What do you mean?”
She looked up at the wood-beamed ceiling, tears trailing
down her cheeks. “I didn’t love Jared the way you love
Drake. I never did.”
I blinked several times, not knowing what to say. This
was news to me. Really big news.
Izzy wiped her eyes. “Don’t get me wrong, I loved Jared.
But I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said the other
night, about how kissing is nature’s way of telling us things
we don’t want to hear. I think I knew,” her voice cracked,
“Jared wasn’t right for me from our very first kiss, but I
couldn’t admit it because we made so much sense. I mean,
how many men do you know who want to be an interior
designer?” She half-heartedly laughed.
I put my arms around her. “Oh, Izzy, I wish you would
have said something.”
“I don’t even think I knew,” she wailed. “I just want my
Graham and Amanda moment in The Holiday. You know, the
one where he hardly even knows her but he just knows
she’s the one? And he’s willing to do anything to make their
relationship work, even though they live on different
continents.”
I nodded. I totally knew what she was talking about.
“Jared couldn’t even muster up any emotion when he
told me he was leaving. It was like a business transaction,
cold and sterile. All he said was ‘This isn’t working.’ And he
was right.” Her head fell on my shoulder.
I stroked her hair. “You’ll get your Graham. I promise.”
“I’m forty years old, Char. Kind of past my prime.
Besides, I don’t believe in swapping houses with people.
That’s just plain weird,” she laughed.
“You are more gorgeous inside and out than most
women half your age. And .  .  . you live in a magical inn
where anything is possible,” I sang.
“You know I don’t believe in that mumbo jumbo George
is always peddling.”
I leaned away and met her eyes. “Izzy, you’ve always
been the best big sister, watching out for me—and everyone
else, for that matter. I think maybe it’s time for you to let go
a little. Let some magic into your life.”
“I did let go the other night with Martez,” she defended
herself. “And not once did I feel magical.”
“That’s because he wasn’t the right one. George says
this place only works for soul mates.”
She took a cleansing breath in and out. “I’m not sure I
believe in soul mates, but I know you do. And I know you
believe Drake is yours,” she had a hard time saying. “Just
promise me you’re going into this with eyes wide open. And
don’t you dare leave me with this inn.” She shook my
shoulders.
“I’m not going anywhere. I promise. I don’t want
Jameson to grow up in LA.” Besides, this inn was more than
my home. I couldn’t explain it, but I knew that although my
soul belonged with Drake, it also belonged here.
“Does Drake know that?”
“Yes. We know we have a lot of things to work out, and I
know none of this will be easy—but I also know if I don’t try,
I’ll always regret it. And according to some solid sources, if I
don’t end up with him, my soul will continually search for his
until I die a miserable death. Do you really want that on
your conscience?” I teased her.
She shook her head at me. “You better go check on him
and Jameson. I’ll finish breakfast, you nutjob,” she said
mostly with love.
We’d had a late morning, given the circumstances.
Jameson and Drake were watching cartoons together on the
couch in our suite. That is, when Drake was able to stay
awake. He was still on painkillers and hadn’t gotten much
rest last night. Yet he’d seemed eager to spend time with
Jameson, so I took that as a good sign. We both knew,
thanks to his trip to the ER, that we were probably going to
have to tell Jameson who Drake was sooner rather than
later. I had no idea how Jameson was going to take it. I
wasn’t sure I had ever been more nervous about something.
That speaks volumes, given the fact I’d recently disclosed
the secret of Drake’s child to him.
“I love you, Izzy.”
“I love you too. Please don’t let Drake hurt you or
Jameson. I don’t think I would do well in prison.” She didn’t
even give a hint of a smile. That was both comforting and
disturbing.
“I promise to do whatever I can to keep you out of the
clinker.”
“I appreciate that. Now get out of here.” She nudged me
with her hip.
“Yes, ma’am.” I saluted her on my way out. I admit to
feeling a little apprehensive. Part of me wanted to rush to
see Drake, but this was so surreal. I thought for sure I would
wake up any minute and realize this was all a bizarre dream.
Yet, when I touched my lips, I knew it was real. I could still
feel Drake’s kisses on them and hear the things he had
whispered against them. Things like how beautiful he found
me and how he’d thought of me every day we’d been apart.
Even more important to me was that he wanted to be a
good father. I wanted that more than anything.
I stopped at the picture of George and Daisy hanging on
the wall. The same one from the first night I’d ever spent
here. I swear Daisy’s smile got ornerier each time I looked at
the photo.
“What do you think, Daisy? Am I doing the right thing?” I
waited for her reply. A mischievous voice from inside me
whispered, I think you know the answer—now go give him
hell. I brushed my fingers over the photo. “I can do that.
Thanks, Daisy.”
With determination to make this work, I headed for my
kiddo and his dad. I walked into our suite to find Jameson in
a fit of giggles, watching a blast from the past—Wile E.
Coyote and the Road Runner. Of course, there were
explosions involved.
Jameson and Drake turned my way when I closed the
door. Drake’s eyes were glazed over, and he was still in his
clothes from last night, but there was something lighter in
his countenance.
“Mom, you have to watch this cartoon. It’s the best!”
I sauntered toward the couch and slid past Drake,
wanting to settle in between him and Jameson, but didn’t
dare to. I might not be able to keep my hands to myself, and
I wasn’t ready to explain to Jameson that not only was Drake
his father, but I was in love with him. I should probably say
those actual words to Drake first, and not when I was
sleeping or making a faux pas. But we weren’t to that point
yet. Not that Drake didn’t know. But I needed to know he
loved me, too, before I confessed my love. So, I sat on the
farthest end of the couch near Jameson.
Drake’s brow pinched as he watched me sit far away
from him.
I smiled, happy to know it bothered him, but hoping he
understood why.
As soon as I sat down, Jameson filled me in on why he
was watching such a classic cartoon. “Drake said this was
his favorite cartoon growing up, and did you know he had a
brother named Jameson?”
I ran my hand over Jameson’s head, my heart catching
in my throat. We were inching ever closer to the truth. “I did
know that.” I gave Drake a knowing look.
“Yeah, and they rode horses and watched cartoons
together,” Jameson added.
My heart felt hope knowing Drake had told Jameson
some of those stories. Drake was trying to connect with our
son. I wanted to reach over and take his hand, but refrained.
“That sounds like a lot of fun. Maybe we can all go
horseback riding together sometime.” I bit my lip, waiting to
see how Drake responded.
Jameson beat his dad to the punch, throwing a fist in the
air. “Yay!” Wow, he was loud.
Drake didn’t seem to mind; in fact, he smiled at
Jameson. “I have a friend who owns a horse ranch in
Wyoming. We’ll plan a trip there soon . . . together.”
Oh, I loved the sound of that—together.
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Eighteen
“How are you feeling?” I snuggled into Drake’s chest.
He was resting on his bed, and being the good nurse
that I am, I’d brought him lunch. Being the good patient that
he was, he’d had me set the tray with a steaming bowl of
chicken noodle soup on the dresser and invited me to join
him in bed instead. Our bed, in a sense. Not that I was going
to share a bed with him anytime soon, but it was significant.
We’d created our son in this place. When I’d paused, he’d
given me a come-kiss-me grin that I couldn’t refuse. I mean,
I was his nurse, after all. And honestly, I needed to take
refuge in his arms before I had to tell my son that his
mother was a liar. I knew the time had come and I dreaded
it. Oh, what a mess I had made.
Izzy had taken Jameson into town to catch a movie and
do some grocery shopping before the firestorm hit. I knew it
was hard for her to leave me alone with Drake, but she also
knew we had a lot to talk about. This wasn’t a drill. The truth
was coming out.
Drake sank farther into his pillows until we were almost
lying down. “I’m feeling much better now,” he said
seductively.
“I know this move, and I’m not falling for it.” Really, I
wasn’t going to. At least I was ninety percent sure I
wouldn’t. After all, my endocrine system was demanding
and violent.
 “What do you think I’m trying to do, Charlotte?” His
hand ran the length of my body—making my body, of its
own accord, curl right into him.
“You know exactly what you’re doing,” I half
complained, loving every second of this.
“Yes, I do.” He unequivocally owned it and wrapped his
arms around me.
“We need to talk,” I reminded him, before I did
something I would absolutely love but yell at myself for
later. Or at least Izzy would.
He let out a heavy breath, making his chest rise and fall
dramatically. “Yes, we do.”
“Do you like Jameson?” I had to ask.
“Of course,” he answered immediately. “He’s funny and
full of life, like someone else I know.”
I smiled to myself, relieved.
“You’ve done a good job with him. I don’t want to screw
that up.” He kissed my head.
“You won’t. He likes you already.” I knew he did,
because he’d insisted on sitting next to him during breakfast
and would hardly leave his side. He’d peppered Drake with
all sorts of questions about his old horse and what kind of
things he’d seen blown up. He also wanted to watch more
Road Runner cartoons with him. Drake had promised they
would when Jameson returned.
“Charlotte,” he whispered.
I could feel his heart pound harder. I gripped his shirt,
knowing it was time to learn the truth. Time for me to work
my magic, if I could. “You can tell me anything,” I assured
him.
“I know, and that scares me more than you can
imagine.”
“I’m scared too.” Not necessarily of what he was going
to tell me, but that this wasn’t real.
“Charlotte, you are always free to walk away from me. I
would understand.”
I stilled in his arms. “Is that what you want?”
He tipped my chin with his finger, his eyes boring into
mine. “I want you,” he said succinctly. “I want Jameson.”
My eyes welled with tears. He had no idea how much I
needed to hear those words. “I want you too.”
“I know.” He grinned devilishly before kissing my nose,
tickling me with his layer of dark scruff.
I snuggled back into him, feeling more settled. “Tell me
what you need to.”
He stroked my hair for several minutes, I assumed while
he was working up his courage. I let the silence linger
between us. I knew how hard it was to bear long-kept
secrets. Had Drake not seen Jameson, I knew I would have
needed a moment like this to gather all the strength I could
muster to tell him the truth. In the silence, I contemplated
what it was he wanted to tell me. I knew he hadn’t killed
anyone, so we were good on that front, but I wondered what
it was he had done—or thought he had done—to ruin his
parents’ lives and marriage. In the interim I drew circles with
my finger on his chest, which was rising and falling deeply.
 “Did I ever tell you,” he stammered a bit, “that Jameson
was my half-brother?”
“Yes. You said there was nothing ‘half’ about your
relationship.” Which I always thought was sweet.
“Except .  .  . he resented my father.” Regret lingered in
his words.
My head popped up to see that Drake was closing his
eyes, as if trying to run from a painful memory. “Why did he
resent him?” I knew their father had adopted Jameson.
“Because my father was different from Jameson’s
deadbeat dad.”
“Isn’t that a good thing, considering his own father was
a deadbeat?”
Drake opened his eyes, yet he wouldn’t meet mine. “You
have to understand, to a young boy, all he could see was a
man trying to take the place of someone he loved. A man
who I now realize was probably better than I ever gave him
credit for,” he struggled to say, “but hard.”
“Hard how?”
Drake looked up to the ceiling. “Just so damn stubborn
and set in his ways. Running a farm will do that to you. It’s a
back-breaking way of life, with no time to relax and all for
very little money. And that was a stark contrast to the life
Jameson saw in Seattle, where my mother and her first
husband’s family were from.”
“But you’ve made mention of how much fun you used to
have on the farm with Jameson.” I loved those stories.
 He lowered his head and finally met my gaze. “There
were good times, but we let the bad times overshadow it all.
Maybe even made them out to be worse than they were,”
he conceded.
“That’s just human nature.” I tried to console him.
“Charlotte, please don’t excuse me on this one. I ended
up hating my father so much, I drove a wedge between my
parents.”
“I’m only trying to give you perspective.” After all, he
was a child at the time. I leaned in and brushed his lips.
He pressed his lips harder against mine and groaned,
tempting me to deepen the kiss.
I gently pulled away. “Tell me more.”
“I’d rather kiss you.”
“I thought we decided we were keeping it mostly
platonic for now.” I smiled.
“Says the woman who crawled in bed with me and just
kissed me. By the way, I didn’t agree to that plan.”
“Let me at least pretend I can keep you at arm’s
length.”
“Why would I do that when I would rather hold you in
my arms?”
Those words had me feeling all warm and fuzzy, but . . .
“I do love being in your arms, but I need to know you plan to
keep me here. Which means I need you to come to terms
with your past so you can move ahead with me and our
son.” I loved saying that—our son. “I can’t have you running
anymore.” I had to know he wouldn’t run from Jameson
when the going got tough.
He sighed while gliding the back of his hand down my
cheek. “I’ve been running from this for so long, I don’t know
what will happen if I stop—and that scares the hell out of
me, but . . . I realized last night, when I almost blacked out
from the pain, losing you scares me more.”
“Good. That I can work with.” I spat out a faux-evil
laugh. “I’ve always wanted to be scary,” I teased.
“You’ve always frightened the hell out of me.” He wasn’t
teasing.
“I can live with that. Now tell me what you need to,” I
demanded, scarily.
He gave me a half-smile. “You are adorable.”
“Adorably scary,” I countered.
“I’m shaking in my boots.” He kissed my brow.
I settled back on his chest and listened to the steady
beat of his heart, my heart. “Why did you hate your dad?”
It took him a minute to answer. “Because I thought he
was getting in the way of Jameson’s and my dreams.”
“What were your dreams?”
“For starters, to get off the farm and get the hell out of
Idaho. Jameson and I had grown to hate it there.”
I nibbled on my bottom lip. “You know, I live in Idaho.”
Or Wydaho, as they called it, on account of it being right on
the Idaho-Wyoming border.
“I’m well aware of that.”
 I couldn’t read his tone. Did that bother him? I wanted to
ask, but I needed him to tell me more about his family
situation, so I decided not to ask him to elaborate just yet.
We had so many details to work out. Instead, I asked, “What
other dreams did you have?”
“It sounds so juvenile now, but we wanted the big city.
Jameson would visit his grandparents in Seattle often, and
he would come home and tell me how much better life was
there. No waking up at the crack of dawn to feed the
animals, or shoveling snow or manure, and he got to eat out
every night. Our town had one café and we never ate there
because my father thought it was wasteful to pay someone
to feed you when we had all the food we needed at home.”
Drake’s fingers danced down my back. “Boyish resentment
built up. It didn’t matter that our father was trying to teach
us a good work ethic, or that he tried to show us why the
farm, that had been in our family for generations, was so
important to him. All we cared about was what we wanted.
And we didn’t want his life,” his voice hitched.
“What about your mom?” I had so many questions
about her. Like how did she meet his dad? Where was she
now?
“My mom,” he whispered. “I think .  .  .” He paused. His
heart pounded and pounded. “I think she loved all three of
us so much it hurt. We all put her in a hell of a position,
constantly fighting with our father and trying to pit our
parents against each other, and it broke her heart. As we
got older, Jameson and I would plot how to break them up.
We would tell her she deserved better and beg her to leave
Dad.”
I gripped his shirt, trying not to react negatively or
positively, but failed miserably. That was a bold thing for
children to do. It made me wonder if my Jameson would
ever do such a thing. “Was your dad abusive?” If that were
true, I could understand why they had done what they’d
done.
“No,” he was quick to say. “I think he loved my mother,
in his own way. He wasn’t an overly emotional man, but we
were never allowed to disrespect our mom—and though
money was tight, he always made sure my mom had
enough to drive to Boise every year and buy herself a new
wardrobe. She loved clothes,” he said in a whisper. “She
never just spent the money on herself, though. She always
brought something back for each of us, even my dad. He
always took whatever it was back, be it a new coat or boots,
which used to make me angry because I could see how it
hurt my mother. But he would always come back with a
dress or a cheap string of pearls for her. I didn’t realize until
I got older that he knew he couldn’t give her the life she
deserved, but he wanted to do what he could for her.”
His dad sounded like a good man to me, but I kept that
to myself for now. “Did that upset your mom when he would
do that?”
“I think it frustrated her, but looking back it was
probably because my father was last to get anything,” his
voice wavered. “The selfless SOB,” he lamented. “But he
was selfish too,” Drake added, as if to make himself feel
better. “The man wouldn’t even take time to play catch with
us. And we weren’t allowed to do anything extracurricular.
‘The farm was our extracurricular activity,’ he would say.”
Drake clenched his fists as if he were still angry about it. Or
angrier with himself.
“Drake, that must have been very difficult. And I know
you don’t want me to make you feel better, heaven forbid,
but most children don’t realize the sacrifice their parents
make until they’re adults. I know I had no idea until I had
Jameson. Having him gave me a whole new appreciation for
my mom and dad.”
“Yes, but you, unlike me, didn’t show such utter
contempt that it broke your family. I gave my mother an
ultimatum—it was me or my father.”
I propped myself up on his chest and met his watery
eyes. I tried to keep my own a normal size after the tidbit
he’d just shared.
“You heard me right,” he said, before I could respond. “I
told my mother I couldn’t take another day living on that
damn farm, so I was going to live with Jameson, who had
long since graduated. She could come with me or stay, but
either way I was gone. I rendered my mother speechless,
and when she said nothing, my father told her to take me
and go.” He paused, his breathing becoming more ragged.
“The last thing he ever said to me, as he stood by my door
while I packed was, ‘Don’t ever come back here. You’re not
welcome. I wish you all the hell you put your mother and me
through. Someday when you look back, I hope you see what
you did, and that you can live with it.’”
I gasped before my hands could cover my mouth. I
couldn’t imagine any parent saying that, even in anger.
Though I knew some children were talked to like that every
day, which broke my heart. My heart was breaking now for
Drake.
“Don’t feel sorry for me,” Drake begged. “I don’t
deserve it. He was right; I can see what I did, and it’s been
excruciating to live with.”
“So, you’ve punished yourself by making sure you never
had a family of your own,” I guessed.
“Why should I get one when I did everything I could to
destroy one?”
I rested my hand on his stubbled, burning cheek.
“People make mistakes, Drake. And whether or not you
knew what you were doing, you were a kid. You have to take
that into account. And people say things they don’t mean in
anger. I bet your father regrets some of the things he said to
you.”
He took my hand and kissed my palm. “Maybe,” his
voice hitched. “I’ve never told anyone this, but six months
later I starred in my first school play, and during the final
bow I saw my father standing in the back of the auditorium.
I don’t know how he knew about it or why he was there. He
was gone by the time the curtain fell.” His voice trembled as
he closed his eyes.
 I was honored he would share such a thing with me.
“Why didn’t you tell your mom?”
He opened his eyes, and such regret lived in them. “I
was afraid if I told my mother, she would go back to him.
And I wanted to punish him for telling me I couldn’t audition
for plays because there was too much work to do on the
farm. I wanted him to pay for everything I thought I had
missed out on because of him.” Remorse and a pain so
palpable laced every word. “And all I could think of was the
last thing he had said to me. I wasn’t his son.”
“Drake,” I whispered.
“Don’t say it, Charlotte; don’t tell me I was a child. I
knew damn well what I was doing. I heard my mother’s
tears every night after we moved to Seattle. I felt her
resentment. I watched a once-warm woman turn cold. All
because of me. Because I thought I deserved the world and I
was going to do whatever I had to, to take it,” he raised his
voice. “And then I did,” he whispered.
“Yes, you did.” I ran a hand through his mussed curls.
“And then I became everything I accused my father of
being: a coldhearted bastard who only cares about himself.”
“I will disagree with you there.”
He opened his mouth—to argue with me, I was sure.
I placed a finger on his lips. “Drake, you did turn out like
your father—I mean obviously, a misguided man like
yourself.” I grinned. “My guess is, he let you go thinking he
was doing the right thing, even as angry as he was, kind of
like someone else I know.”
 “I was doing the right thing by you,” he growled. “Did
you just hear what I told you?”
“I did hear you. Do you think your father did the right
thing, letting you and your mother go?”
He pressed his lips together, making his jaw pulse. It
was his signature you’re-irritating-me-with-truths-I-don’t-
want-to-admit look.
“Did you ever stop to think that maybe your dad had a
hard time being human, too, because he so badly wanted to
give you what you wanted but he either couldn’t or didn’t
know how?”
Drake’s face softened. “Why do you think I let you
leave? I don’t know if I can give you what you want or need.
I just told you what I did to my own family.”
“You told me the story of a boy who was no doubt full of
pride, but I think he was hurt, too, and didn’t know how to
express it. You wouldn’t feel so much guilt over it if you were
as horrible as you think you are. You wouldn’t have punished
yourself so harshly over the years. If you were so uncaring,
you might have had a family just to spite your father.”
He brushed his hand across my cheek and into my hair.
“I wish I would have let myself have you.”
That was excellent news. The news I needed to hear.
“Well, you’re in luck. I’m still available. And I don’t think you
are an uncaring person, but you need to face this, Drake—
own whatever it is you need to, make right what you can
and move on.”
“You sound like my brother.”
 “Yeah, what did he say?”
A misty sheen covered Drake’s gorgeous eyes. “When
he came to the end of his life, he also realized the mistake
we had made. What we had given up. He, more than
anyone, had helped me conquer the world.”
Jameson had worked to put Drake through school, and
until he’d gotten sick, he was Drake’s manager. Jameson
fought a long, hard battle with ALS. I came into the picture
about a year before Jameson passed away. I had only met
him a few times, but each time was meaningful. I had never
met a brother prouder than Jameson was of Drake, and he
had a wicked sense of humor, even being as sick as he was.
I admired his fighting spirit. I hoped my own Jameson would
inherit it.
“He admitted part of why he helped me so much was
out of spite for the man who dared to love him and be the
father he never had,” Drake added. “And all for what?
Jameson never had a family of his own, and our relationship
with our mother became stiff and formal. Just enough so we
could ease our consciences. I think the guilt has eaten her
alive over the years and we only became reminders of what
she gave up. We only communicate now on her birthday and
at Christmas. She refuses to take my call on Mother’s Day,
saying she doesn’t deserve it. She lives simply in Seattle,
not wanting anything to do with my money or fame, I think
as her penance for the choice she made.”
“She chose her son.” My voice broke thinking of my
Jameson. Thinking of her. So much heartache in one family.
“I can’t say I blame her. Your child is a part of you in a way
that’s unexplainable. I don’t know if I would have chosen
any differently than her.” And if the man I loved told me to
go, it would have devastated me. It had devastated me. I
left once upon a time too. “Drake, you have to stop this
cycle of pain,” I pleaded. “You have a son now to think
about. And you have me.”
“I will do my best,” he whispered.
“That’s all I ask. We don’t need you to be perfect.”
He sighed as he pulled my face closer. “Have I
mentioned how magical you are?”
“Maybe,” I whispered against his lips.
“Thank you for letting me be honest and human, with no
judgment for the mistakes I’ve made. Mistakes I told
Jameson I would try to make right, but I don’t know how—or
even if I can.”
“I’ll help you, if you’ll let me.” I drew closer, breathing
him in slowly.
“Charlotte, I don’t want to hurt you or Jameson in the
process.”
It was the first time I had ever believed that Drake
Foster could be scared. I heard it in the very timbre of his
voice. “Here’s the thing: families are messy—even in my
own family, as wonderful as it is, we hurt each other
sometimes. But we never give up on each other.”
“Don’t give up on me,” Drake begged.
“I don’t think I could, even if I wanted to. Apparently, my
soul is always meant to search for yours.”
 “Then I am the luckiest of men.” His lips brushed mine
before pressing against them and owning them. To leave no
doubt about how he felt, his tongue consumed my mouth
before his hands glided down my back, drawing me closer to
him. Keeping him at arm’s length went totally out the
window. It was a soul mate thing. That was my story, and I
was sticking to it. Just like I was sticking with him.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Nineteen
“We need to tell Jameson about you.” I sat on a chair
with my legs crisscrossed, next to Drake’s bed while
watching him eat. I opted for the chair because . . . well . . .
let’s just say I was holding to some rules, and we had gotten
too close to breaking them. Drake may own my soul, but my
body would remain my own for the time being. Sex had a
way of complicating things, and this situation was already
complicated enough, thanks—in part—to sex. No matter
what people say, sex has its costs, and the stakes were too
high this time. Jameson had to remain front and center in all
of this. His well-being was my number one priority. And I
wanted a commitment from Drake before we crossed that
line again. We are talking, let’s pick a date, call a preacher,
figure out his past kind of commitment. Maybe even get him
to talk to his dad, if at all possible. I would bring that one up
later—you know, after I told my son what a liar I was.
Drake wiped his mouth with the linen napkin I had
provided him. “I know. I’ll have Martez make some calls and
rearrange my schedule.”
“So, you’re going to stay for a while?” My heart pitter-
pattered like Thumper.
“I want to get to know Jameson.”
That was the perfect answer for my mama heart. “I
know he’ll love that. I will too.”
“I don’t want to hide our relationship from him,” he
pulled no punches.
 I tilted my head. “Are we in a relationship?” I sang.
Hoping that I was close to singing a chorus of “It’s About
Freaking Time.”
“If what just happened in this bed a moment ago is any
indication, I’m going to say yes.” He hit me with his
dampened smile.
All while he had me blushing, thinking of that glorious
event. “Okay, I guess you can be my boyfriend,” I teased.
“You guess?”
“I mean, sure, if you really want to be.” I tried to act
nonchalant about it, while the butterflies in my stomach
threw a fiesta.
“Oh, I really want to be,” he said with so much swagger,
I was going to swoon.
I cleared my throat and remembered I was a mother and
shouldn’t fling myself on the bed. “Then it’s settled,” I
stammered. Holy goodness was he going to be the death of
my glands.
“You okay there?” he asked with such cockiness,
knowing full well the effect he had on me, and every other
female.
I sat up taller. “I’m fine.”
“Yes, you are.” He wagged his brows.
I rolled my eyes, although I loved every second of this
conversation. “Now that we have that settled, how do we
tell our son I lied to him?” Tears immediately stung my eyes.
All the cheeriness I was feeling went up in flames with the
reality that loomed before me.
 Without missing a beat, he responded, “Blame it on
me.”
I could kiss him for that response but .  .  . “I can’t do
that.”
“Why?”
“For one, it’s not true; you didn’t make me lie to him.
And I don’t want your relationship with Jameson to begin
with any wedges.”
Drake gave me a knowing nod. He knew all about
wedges between fathers and sons.
I was determined our little family wouldn’t create any
obstacles that would tear us apart.
Drake set his tray of food to the side and reached out
for my hand, which I gladly gave him. “We will help him to
understand.”
“Do you understand? Do you forgive me?” I had to know.
“I understand, but this morning when we were watching
cartoons together, I was angry thinking about all the time
I’ve missed with him.”
“Angry with me?” I breathed out, while my heart
plummeted. Although I knew darn well I deserved the ire.
“Yes, and at myself. I own pushing you away, and
hurting you to the point you felt like you couldn’t tell me the
truth. For that I am sorry. But, yes, there is anger there.”
I rubbed my chest with my free hand. “Do you want to
break up?” I swallowed hard. This would be my shortest
relationship ever—not by much, but still the winner by at
least forty-five minutes.
 He pulled my hand up and kissed it. “I can be angry with
you and still want you.”
“Then for the record, I’m still upset with you for
trampling my heart.”
“As you should be.”
“So let me get this straight: we’re mad at each other,
but we’re still a couple.”
“Sounds like most relationships.” He squeezed my hand.
“I assume eventually we’ll make up?”
“I do look forward to that.” He flashed me an impish
grin.
“You have no idea,” I purred.
His jaw dropped.
I reached up and gently closed his mouth. “Just
remember that, when you find yourself still being angry at
me.”
He blinked several times. “Hell, you’re sexy.”
I settled back in my chair, pleased with myself. At least
until I remembered that I was a terrible mom for lying to my
son. My son, whom I unexpectedly heard calling my name
down the hall. Izzy and Jameson were back a lot earlier than
planned. I jumped up and ran my fingers through my hair,
trying to hide the fact that Drake had undone my messy bun
when we were getting all sorts of tangled up.
“You look beautiful.” Drake grinned, obviously enjoying
my flustered state.
This was new for me. I hadn’t dated anyone since
Jameson was born. Much less his father—one of the most
eligible bachelors on God’s green earth. I had ample reason
to be flustered.
Jameson didn’t even knock before he busted through
the door. We were going to have to talk about that,
especially now that I was in a relationship. The last thing I
wanted to do was scar my child for life.
“Mom! Mom! Mom!” He flew into my arms.
I wrapped him up tight, a bit worried. “What’s wrong,
honey?”
Izzy appeared before he could answer. She gripped the
doorframe, a bit out of breath. There was no catching
Jameson when he put his mind to running away from
someone. When he was little, he could strip and run at the
same time. He was talented like that.
Something in Izzy’s eyes made my blood run cold.
“Mom, there were guys taking pictures of me. Aunt Iz
had to yell at them.”
My blood went from cold to boiling. “What? Where?
How?”
“At the store and outside the inn,” Izzy informed me.
I rushed to the window.
“They aren’t there anymore,” Izzy said, still trying to
catch her breath. “I told them they were trespassing and
threatened to call the police.”
“Who are they?” I grabbed my chest.
“Who do you think, Char?” She gave Drake the evil eye.
“Damn it.” Drake threw off the covers and jumped up
like he hadn’t spent the night in the emergency room—and
wasn’t using a strainer when he urinated. Who knew they
made you collect the stone? “Where’s Martez?”
“I haven’t seen him since he left late this morning,
saying he needed to run an errand in town,” Izzy answered.
“That was a few hours ago. I didn’t see your rental car when
we pulled up, but I was preoccupied with a slimeball
reporter,” she hissed.
“I need to call him.” Drake marched toward the dresser,
looking like he might decapitate someone.
Meanwhile, I was ready to hyperventilate. Izzy didn’t
help when she pointed at Jameson and mouthed, “They
know.”
I didn’t need to ask what they knew. But how did they
know? I fell back on the chair, grabbing Jameson and
holding on to him for dear life.
“I forgot to charge my phone,” Drake lamented.
“Drake,” I could barely say. My mouth felt like I’d
swallowed the Sahara Desert.
He turned, and every blood vessel in his face seemed to
have popped.
“How much do you trust Martez?”
“As much as anyone.”
“So not much,” I inferred.
“Charlotte, what are you getting at?”
“My secret is out.” I clung to Jameson.
It took him a second to comprehend what I was saying.
He stared blankly at Jameson while leaning back against the
dresser. Yes, this had just gotten real.
 Izzy gave me a sympathetic look. “I’ll be downstairs if
you need me. Love you.” She shut the door.
This wasn’t how I’d envisioned this going down. I
pictured an ice cream sundae, maybe a puppy—not Drake in
his pajamas and the media already alerted by his traitor
assistant. I was sure it was Martez. And to think he’d made
out with Izzy. We were going to have a talk later about who
she let in her mouth.
“What secret, Mom?” Jameson had to ask.
I looked between Jameson and Drake, knowing what I
needed to say, but there were no words. Every thought I had
was a jumbled mess.
Drake approached, sitting on the edge of the bed to be
close to us. His presence had a calming effect on me—
especially when I noted how similar the two men in my life
were, right down to their straight-edged noses. I began to
see visions of what could be, between not only the two of
them, but all of us. Beach trips, decorating the Christmas
tree together, game nights, and the like. So many
possibilities lay before us, if only I was brave enough to own
my mistake and my son was willing to forgive his well-
meaning mom.
I sat Jameson on my lap and took a gulp of courage,
trying to swallow my humongous lie down. What had I been
thinking all these years? “Baby.” I ruffled his hair, hoping the
power of his curls would work their magic. “Mommy has
something to tell you.”
 Drake leaned forward, just as anxious as I was, it
seemed, to see how Jameson would react.
I wanted to say, “Get ready to call 911.” I was sure my
heart shouldn’t be allowed to race the way it was. But
seeing as Drake’s phone was dead, I would probably die
before the paramedics arrived.
“Are we getting a dog?” Jameson lit up.
“Ye—” I so badly wanted to say yes, but did I really need
a new puppy on top of all the other fun in my life right now?
“No, honey. Not right now.”
“Oh man.”
Great, he was already disappointed in me. “J man,
remember when I told you that fireworks made you?”
“Yeah. You said they were the best fireworks ever.”
That was technically true. Drake must have agreed,
judging by his grin.
“Yes, I did. Well, the truth is, babies aren’t really made
from fireworks.”
His eyes widened in disbelief.
I was a terrible mother.
“How are babies made?” he asked, so innocently.
I probably should have seen that coming and practiced
that speech. But who knew I would have the media
involved?
Drake pressed his lips together, trying not to laugh.
Well, maybe I would let him explain conception.
I cleared my throat. “Well . . . ,” I elongated every single
letter, “when a man and a woman love . . .” My eyes caught
ahold of Drake’s raised brow. “I mean care for each other,” I
amended, feeling so ridiculous for assuming Drake loved
me.
Drake’s brow furrowed. What did that mean? I didn’t
have time to ask. I would nurse my wounds later.
“They come together.” I brought my hands together in
front of us. “And the man gives the woman some of his
sperm, and that sperm fertilizes an egg inside of the
woman.” I was trying to stay with my whole principle of
teaching Jameson the correct anatomy terms. You know,
other than the whole fireworks fiasco I was paying for now.
Jameson’s face scrunched. “Do you have eggs inside of
you like a chicken?”
Drake chuckled, and I admit to having to suppress my
laugh.
“No, honey. These eggs are so tiny, you can only see
them under a microscope. But the important part is that you
have a mommy and a daddy.”
“Yeah, Uncle Sam.”
Note to self: never, ever lie again. What kind of person
was I, lying to my child? “Jameson,” my voice hitched.
“Uncle Sam isn’t real. He’s like a cartoon character that
represents America. And since you were born on America’s
birthday, I just told you that he was your dad because I was
afraid to tell you the truth.”
Jameson blinked and blinked. “You lied to me?”
That went straight to my heart. Tears streamed down
my face. “I did. And I’m so, so sorry.”
 “Why, Mommy?” He sounded as if I had just crushed all
his dreams.
I pulled him to me and hugged the living daylights out of
him. “Because I was scared.”
“Moms get scared?”
“Yes, we do, but it doesn’t make lying okay.”
“Like when I was scared to tell you I broke Izzy’s
necklace, so I lied to you.”
“Yes, but then you did the right thing and told the truth
and told Izzy you were sorry. And she forgave you,” I cried.
Please, God, let my little boy forgive me.
Drake, who had been watching with wonder, reached
out and rubbed my arm, alerting Jameson to his presence.
Jameson, in turn, sat up out of my arms. Instinctively, Drake
knelt next to us.
I had to say, I was impressed with Drake, but that was
my cue.
“Jameson, the truth is, that Drake . . .”
Drake flashed me a smile of encouragement.
I took it and ran with it. “Drake is your dad,” I said in a
whoosh, before I lost my courage.
Jameson narrowed his eyes. “He gave you sperm?”
I giggled before I could stop myself. “Uh .  .  . yes. But
most importantly, we made you.”
“Do I have sperm?” He was apparently missing the most
important point.
“Not yet.” I was flustered by his line of questioning.
“When do I get some?” He was incorrigible.
 “Honey, not for a long time, but—”
“Jameson,” Drake jumped in. “Would it be okay with you
if I was your dad?” Some emotion bled through. Maybe even
some pleading. Whatever it was, I would be forever grateful
for it.
Jameson tapped his finger against his lips, like he had a
habit of doing. Drake and I waited on bated breath for him
to say something.
“Are you really my dad?” he finally asked.
I felt terrible my son was questioning me, but I couldn’t
blame him. This was all on me.
Drake moved in and rested his large hand on Jameson’s
small cheek. “Yes, I am your dad.”
Jameson thought some more, while studying Drake.
Then Jameson reached out and touched Drake’s cheek, as if
trying to see if he could tell he really was his dad. “Are you
going to stay with me now?”
Drake took Jameson’s tiny hand. “Your mom and I will
have to talk about that.”
“Oh.” Jameson seemed disappointed.
“But I’ll be around for the next couple of weeks, and
we’ll do anything you want to do.”
My eyes widened.
“As long as it’s okay with your mom,” Drake amended.
He employed the WWCT rule. Very good.
“Can we watch more cartoons today?” Jameson was
easy to please.
 “Of course,” Drake responded. “I just need to make a
few phone calls.”
I was sure his lawyer was first on the list. Martez was
going to rue the day he betrayed Drake Foster.
I wrapped my arms around Jameson. “I love you so
much. Will you please forgive me?”
“Can I get a dog?” What a little extortionist. I had to say
I was impressed. Scared, but impressed. It was the
equivalent of him saying Checkmate. Izzy was obviously
teaching him her ways.
“Yes.” The queen gladly took her final bow. Anything for
the love of her son.
Jameson threw his arms around me. “Yes!”
Drake wrapped us both up in his arms. All felt right in
the world, even if I knew I would be cleaning up after a
puppy in the very near future. And dealing with the press.
“Are you trying to give my mom sperm?” And there went
the beautiful moment.
Drake cleared his throat, while I coughed and spluttered.
I was obviously going to have to go into more detail about
conception than I wanted to.
“Um .  .  . not right now,” Drake stuttered, before giving
me an impish grin. “Maybe later,” he mouthed.
Much, much, much later.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twenty
“Is Drake coming?” Jameson was eager for him to join us
in the grand hall. He’d decided to call him Drake for now.
Which was understandable, considering he’d just found out
he had a dad. Not only that, but a famous dad—which had
momentarily imploded our lives. The world wanted all the
details about Drake Foster’s son. It was why Drake hadn’t
joined us yet. He’d been on the phone most of the afternoon
and evening, only taking time to watch a few episodes of
Road Runner cartoons with Jameson and eat grilled cheese
sandwiches with tomato soup. Other than that, he was busy
yelling at Quinn to find Martez and remind him of the
contracts and nondisclosure agreement he’d signed, then
stick it to him. That was the cleaned-up version of what he
said. Let’s just say my son now knows all the four-letter
words. In between conversations with Quinn, Drake talked to
his PR team, who was working overtime answering calls
from every media outlet around the globe.
We had to unplug the old landline here, as it was ringing
off the hook. My cell phone was even being inundated.
Mostly by my mom, who was giving me up-to-the-minute
screenshots of every social media post about Drake’s foray
into fatherhood and his relationship with his former
assistant. Izzy was currently talking to our tech-savvy mom,
who went by sexymimi on Instagram, giving me a bit of a
play-by-play break. Poor Izzy was kicking herself for making
out with Martez. And she was having a hard time adjusting
to the fact that Drake was going to be a permanent fixture
in our lives. I’d tried to assure her it wasn’t going to change
our relationship, but this was a lot for all of us to take.
Our lives were all currently feeling very fishbowl-like.
Even our little jaunt to the hospital the night before was a
hot topic of conversation online, according to my mom.
Some worker there had definitely blabbed. I thought there
were HIPAA laws to prevent that. I guess there would be
more people for Drake to sue. That would probably make
him happy, so there was that.
Drake didn’t seem to be bothered by the fact that his
life was playing out across social media, other than knowing
it was disconcerting to me and kind of hard to explain to a
five-year-old. For Drake, it wasn’t the first time, nor would it
be the last. He used to say the media will shove lies down
people’s throats coated in a spoonful of sugar to make it go
down. Only those not willing to swallow it were worth his
time. Unless it was a blatant lie or would hurt his career, he
normally let things roll off his back. I had a feeling it wasn’t
going to be as easy for me. Especially knowing my son was
involved. Thankfully, Jameson’s name and picture had yet to
be published, but it wasn’t going to take long.
“He’ll be here in a minute,” I promised Jameson.
Jameson ran around me, sliding in his socks and pjs. He
was being extra hyper tonight. It was his way of dealing with
all the new information we’d thrown at him today. My
insides were doing the same thing.
 “Can we look for a dog tomorrow?” He slid across the
floor.
“I have a better plan.” Drake walked in, now dressed in
jeans and a tight tee. He was obviously feeling better. And
ooh la la, was he fine. Though my poor heart couldn’t take
any more palpitations, even the good kind at this point.
“Drake!” Jameson shouted and ran toward him, sliding
the last bit until he wrapped himself around Drake’s legs.
Drake wrapped an arm around him. “Hey there.” He
seemed pleased Jameson was taking to him so well.
I smiled at the scene. “What do you have in mind for
tomorrow?” I really didn’t want to pick out a dog just yet. I
had every intention of keeping my promise to Jameson, but
considering Drake was talking about hiring security, and
currently there were photographers camped outside across
the street, I wasn’t keen on having to take a dog out for
walks to relieve itself.
He ruffled Jameson’s hair. “How would you like to go
skiing tomorrow?”
“Yes!” Jameson pumped his fist into the air.
“What do you think, Charlotte?”
He probably should have employed the WWCT protocol
before he asked our son, but he was a newbie, so I would
forgive him. “That sounds like fun, but do we really want to
be out in public right now? Especially together?” I admit to
not being ready for the attention. How were people going to
react when they realized he was ditching all the Hollywood
sirens for cute, perky me? All my old insecurities were
creeping back in.
Drake sauntered my way, well, as best as he could with
Jameson still clinging to his leg. “Charlotte, this comes with
the package.” His tone had a sympathetic air to it.
I bit my lip. “I know, but do we have to rush right into it?
And what if your kidney stone gets stuck in your ureter or
bladder?” I was grasping at straws here.
“That’s highly unlikely.” Drake grinned. “I really need to
meet with the production team tomorrow in Jackson Hole
before they all go home. And I want you and Jameson to
come with me.”
That was sweet and all, but .  .  . “Is your new French
costar still there?” I’d looked her up and all I could say was,
wow. She was stunning and apparently didn’t own many
clothes.
He gave me a knowing grin. “Yes.”
“Planning on running lines, getting those ‘scenes’ ironed
out to perfection?” I narrowed my envious eyes.
Drake tugged on my flannel nightshirt—I was sexy like
that. I was wearing fuzzy gray socks to enhance the
ensemble. He pulled me closer to him, but not too close,
given our audience who was now begging for us to slide.
“You have zero reasons to be jealous.” He kissed my
lips.
Jameson’s face contorted. I wasn’t sure he appreciated
Drake kissing me, but Drake had been up-front with him
about our relationship. I wasn’t sure Jameson really
understood what that meant—all he cared about was Drake
not sharing any of his sperm with me. I was already
preparing for the call I would be getting from Jameson’s
kindergarten teacher in the near future, where she would
inform me that Jameson had shared the wonders of sperm
with his classmates.
“I’m not like those women,” I whispered, all my
insecurities were coming out to play.
“For that I’m grateful.” Drake kissed me once more
before turning his attention to Jameson. “You promised to
show me how to slide.”
He was too charming for my own good, which I knew
meant I would be hitting the slopes tomorrow. Which meant
my life was about to be on full display.
~*~
“You can stop looking in the mirror; you are just as
beautiful as the last time you checked,” Drake assured me.
I flipped up the visor mirror in Drake’s rented Range
Rover. It had been returned to him last night after being
located at a local park where Martez had abandoned it. Who
knew where he’d gone from there. For his sake I hoped
whoever he’d sold his story to paid him a lot, because Drake
was going to obliterate him financially and otherwise.
I smoothed out the tight pink sweater I was wearing. I’d
even borrowed one of Izzy’s push-up bras. Was I proud of
that decision? No. But a girl had to do what a girl had to do.
And if I had to show off every curve I owned, and perhaps
amplify a few, that’s just the way it was. I would feel shame
about it after I met the French siren who would be doing
love scenes with the love of my life. Besides, I had to look
good for all the freaking photographers outside the inn who
followed us and shot a million pictures of us leaving in the
car this morning. There was more of that to come, I was
sure of it. Which meant I would probably fall spectacularly
on the slopes today.
Drake’s team was working up a press release. I couldn’t
believe I had to announce to the world my biggest failure as
a mother and a human. Sure, Drake was trying to sugarcoat
it. Make it sound like it had been for Jameson’s protection
instead of me being a coward. Of course, his PR manager
didn’t want Drake to come off as some deadbeat dad who
had ignored his son, so the spin would be how happy Drake
was about the news and how much he looked forward to this
new chapter in his life. Drake never commented on his love
life, so our relationship would be kept out of it, other than to
say that he looked forward to co-parenting with me.
Note to self: Do not sleep with your famous boss, ever.
Definitely don’t keep his child a secret from him. Izzy would
be so proud I’d finally learned this lesson. Unfortunately, I
had to learn the hard way.
“Are you sure about this?” I looked out into the bright,
clear day, the fresh powder from the night before lining the
mountain pass. The same mountain pass I’d been sure I
would die on over six years ago. The same one that led me
to this very situation. I didn’t regret my choice to love Drake
and to have his child. I just wish I had done things
differently.
Drake reached over and rested his hand on my thigh.
“The sooner we give the media what they want, the quicker
we become old news and can move on with our lives.”
“That sounds good, in theory.” I gripped his hand like a
vise, kind of hoping his kidney stone would make a
reappearance—you know, take one for the team. Did that
make me evil?
“Charlotte, you lived in this world for three years; you
know how to navigate it.”
“I was your behind-the-scenes assistant, who most
everyone ignored.”
Drake looked in the rearview mirror at our son, who was
using my iPad to look at dogs. He was determined to get
one ASAP. When Drake was satisfied our son was
preoccupied, he curled his fingers around mine and quietly
said, “You have no idea how many men I had to keep away
from you.”
I hit him with my skeptical eyes. Who were these men
he spoke of? Not like I would have noticed, because I only
had eyes for Drake—then and now.
He pulled my hand up and kissed it. “It’s true. Now
relax.”
Relax, he said. How do you relax when your life is about
to go on display for the entire world?

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twenty-One
You know that feeling when you think everyone is
staring at you like your dress is tucked into your pantyhose,
but it’s really just an irrational thought? That’s how I felt,
except it wasn’t irrational. Everyone turned their heads or
pointed phones or cameras at us when Drake, Jameson, and
I walked into the lobby of the grand lodge meant to
resemble a cozy cabin. While I gripped both Drake’s and
Jameson’s hands, I had to remind myself I was indeed
wearing clothes. I was most grateful my ski pants were snug
and didn’t have a zipper, so at least I knew they hadn’t
fallen down.
Regardless, my cheeks felt as warm as the blazing fire
in the large stone fireplace sitting front and center. Several
people gathered around it, chatting and sipping cocoa and
coffee in the big leather chairs, before hitting the slopes. At
least they were—until we walked in. The entire lodge
seemed to still as each set of eyes zeroed in on us.
I was more than grateful when Rich Allred came walking
toward us. He was not what you would expect a director of
action films to look like. He was barely taller than me, with
flaming red hair always in disarray, and he wore plaid shirts
no matter the time of year. I liked that he never put on airs
even though he was one of the most sought-after directors
in the business.
“You made it.” Rich was all smiles while reaching out to
shake Drake’s hand.
 “It’s good to see you, Rich,” Drake reciprocated. “Do
you remember Charlotte?”
Rich gave me a warm smile. “Of course. It’s nice to see
you again.” He didn’t make it awkward at all.
“And this is our son, Jameson,” Drake said naturally, like
he’d said it a thousand times. Maybe that was his acting
skills coming into play. But I hoped he was just so genuinely
happy about it that it wasn’t a second thought for him.
Rich knelt in front of Jameson. “I heard you were coming
and thought you might like this.” He pulled a black ball cap
from his back pocket that said DIRECTOR in white
embroidered letters. “I wore this the first time your dad and
I made a movie together.”
Jameson took the cap. “Thank you.” He smiled up at
Drake. “Does this mean I can blow things up now too?”
We all chuckled.
“We’ll see.” Drake gave Jameson a wink.
“Yes!” Jameson put the cap on his head.
Our little huddle was interrupted by a photojournalist,
camera in hand. “Drake, is this your son?” he shouted from
across the room. “How did it feel to learn you’re a father?”
I couldn’t believe my cheeks could burn any hotter than
they already were, but apparently, I’d now entered the
fourth level of hell, and those babies were feeling crispy.
“Why don’t we head to the conference room?” Rich
suggested.
Drake put his arm around me, grabbed Jameson’s hand,
and led us toward the conference room.
 The photog was relentless and chased after us.
Drake stopped and turned, blocking us from the
persistent man; he was struggling to rein in his fury, judging
by how red his ears burned. “I’m here with my family to ski.
So, I’m going to ask you politely to back off.” He didn’t
sound all that polite.
I didn’t care how he sounded—I was touched he’d called
us his family. It almost made the photog’s next questions
not sting as much. Almost.
“Is it true your son was kept a secret from you? Do you
plan to take legal action against his mother?” The slimy man
flashed me a devious grin.
Drake’s fists clenched. “I suggest you leave before I call
security.”
The man snapped several pictures, before leaving with
the biggest smirk on his face.
Meanwhile, I was dying a little inside. Not that I was
worried Drake was going to sue me. It was the fact the man
had a reason to ask such a question. That my deepest
regret was going to be a headline. It was made worse with
the knowledge Drake was still angry about it. He’d missed
five years of Jameson’s life because of me. Yet, I had to play
it cool. There was no crying for the cameras. That was like
blood to a shark.
Drake turned, trying to gain his composure.
“Why does everyone keep taking our picture?” Jameson
growled, sounding an awful lot like his dad.
 Drake let out a heavy breath before responding, “Some
people think because I make movies, they have a right to
know all about my life. And now that you’re a part of my life,
they want to know you too.” That was a good explanation.
“I don’t want them to know me.” Jameson puffed out his
chest.
“Don’t worry, I won’t let anyone near you.” Drake
tapped the brim of Jameson’s cap.
I rubbed my chest, feeling more and more guilty for
placing my son in this situation. I’d known what having
Drake’s baby would mean, but I’d exacerbated the situation
by keeping it secret.
“Are you okay?” Drake tugged on a tendril of my hair.
I swallowed down the truth, not wanting to admit to
anything for fear of being heard, or worse, that I would start
crying.
Drake gave me a sympathetic smile, as if he knew what
I couldn’t say. I wasn’t doing okay.
“Come in and meet everyone.” Rich waved us into the
conference room.
I welcomed the refuge and the hand Drake offered me.
Um . . . scratch that.
“Darling,” Marissa’s shrill voice filled the cavernous
room, with a couple of well-known faces and several strange
ones sitting around a large pine table.
I had gone from the frying pan right into the fire.
Marissa, decked out in a white snow bunny getup that fit
to stunning perfection, came charging after Drake. She
didn’t let the fact that Drake was holding my hand, or that
our son was a witness, stop her from wrapping her tentacles
around Drake like a vixen octopus, pushing me out of the
way. “Are you surprised?” she purred.
Drake, to his credit, tried to shake her off, but she was
holding on like a dog to her bone. I was sure if someone
tried to extricate Drake, she would bare her gleaming white
teeth and foam at the mouth. With no shame, she touched
him everywhere she could with her slender manicured
hands, bearing long red nails that were obviously itching to
scratch up Drake’s back.
Watching her made me feel so very small and so out of
Drake’s league. She was painfully beautiful with thick dark
tresses showcasing her high cheekbones and smooth
porcelain skin. She even smelled like every man’s wildest
dreams. I probably smelled like the plum jam Jameson had
dropped and splattered all over me this morning during
breakfast. I once again felt like Drake’s insignificant
assistant. I was waiting for someone to pat me on the head
and ask me to fetch them some coffee.
I remembered all the headlines and articles about Drake
and Marissa. Many beginning with—Hollywood’s Most
Beautiful Couple. Seeing them together confirmed the
written word.
I took Jameson’s hand to remind myself that my worth
didn’t come in designer outfits or even in my looks, but it
was impossible not to compare myself to the beauty before
me. I wanted to say something, stake my claim on Drake,
but realized it would be a never-ending battle. There were
always going to be women throwing themselves at Drake.
Many not caring if he was with me or not.
“That’s my dad!” Jameson shouted, as if he were
horrified watching Marissa grope his father. It was enough to
shake me out of my silent spiral of self-loathing. It also
stunned Marissa to the point where she loosened her hold
on Drake, allowing him to free himself from her clutches.
Drake immediately took Jameson’s other side and put his
arm around both of us. He heaved a heavy breath, like he’d
just run a race. Everyone else in the room chuckled at
Jameson’s outburst.
Marissa narrowed her gorgeous caramel eyes at me; in
them I saw her desire to obliterate me or perhaps sick her
brother, Satan, on me. She then whipped her head toward
Drake. “Yes, I hear you’re a daddy now,” she said with sickly
sweet inflection, but her undertones were razor sharp.
“Congratulations. Or is that condolences?”
“Excuse me?” the mama bear in me roared. Why would
she even think to say such a thing? Was it because she had
no desire to have children, or had Drake told her that was
his wish as well? My stomach clenched at the thought.
The room became excruciatingly silent, but every head
ping-ponged between Marissa and me.
Marissa’s cheeks pinked before she fake-laughed. “I was
only joking.”
“Hilarious,” I couldn’t help but say.
 Drake gave me an appreciative grin before saying to
Marissa, “Congratulations will do.”
As much as I loved Drake’s smile and him setting
Marissa straight, the tension in the room was too much for
me. I wasn’t a confrontational person by nature. I had
always left that honor to Izzy. “Jameson and I are going to
hit the slopes now.” Though it was the last thing I wanted to
do. What I wanted to do was go home and hide in my cozy
inn, away from cameras and Hollywood sirens like the one
heaving her breasts in front of me. I so badly wanted to
reach over and zip up her jumpsuit. I was afraid a boob
might pop out and take out someone’s eye.
“I’ll be right back,” Drake addressed the attentive
audience in the room, before leading Jameson and me out
into what felt like the wild, where I would be hunted down.
Jameson was more like Izzy and demanded the final
word. He stopped in front of Marissa with his hands on his
hips. “Don’t touch my dad.”
I’m not sure I had ever been prouder. For that, he was
getting a dog tomorrow—if not sooner.
I wrapped an arm around my son and flashed Marissa a
brilliant smile to a smattering of laughter in the background.
In true Hollywood fashion, Marissa pouted her luscious
red lips, which probably had more collagen than a
supplement store.
Once we were out the door, Drake led us to an out-of-
the-way nook where they kept luggage carriers. He first held
his hand up to Jameson. “Good job in there. High five.”
 Jameson smacked it as hard as he could. “How come
that lady was touching you?”
That was an excellent question. One I would like an
answer to as well.
Drake rubbed the back of his neck as he stretched it
from side to side, all while giving me a furtive glance. “That
woman and I are old friends.”
“Friends,” I scoffed.
“Charlotte, there’s nothing going on between us. I don’t
know what she’s doing here.”
“How did she know you were here?” I found myself
being overly skeptical and on the verge of tears. All I could
picture was finding her sitting on Drake’s lap once we’d
returned to LA a million years ago. Why had I agreed to
come here?
“Hey.” Drake rested his hand on my warm cheek.
I leaned into it.
“She means nothing to me.”
“Since when?”
“Since always.”
I rolled my eyes, totally not buying what he was trying
to sell.
He gently grabbed my face with both of his hands, his
eyes peering right into mine. “You need to trust me. I realize
this isn’t easy, but unfortunately this business is my life.”
“Business is your life?” I grabbed my stomach. I was
kind of hoping Jameson and I would be his life.
“You’re taking that the wrong way,” he breathed out.
 “How should I take it?”
Drake looked at Jameson, who looked as confused as I
felt at the moment. “Let’s discuss this later.”
That was probably a good idea. I wasn’t used to this co-
parenting-slash-dating thing, and it showed.
I backed away from Drake, which made him grimace,
yet he didn’t address it. Instead, he said, “I let the ski shop
know you would be coming. Get anything you need or want
there. I asked them to set aside the newest Nordica skis for
you to test out. If you like them, charge them to my
account.”
I knew how much those cost and that was a no go.
Besides, we didn’t ski often enough to need a set of our
own. “We just need skis to rent, and I’ve got it covered.”
“Charlotte,” he sighed. “Please don’t fight me on this.”
“Sorry, I have to.” I gave him a half-smile. I wasn’t
feeling very cheery. In fact, I must have been feeling quite
naive to think Drake and I would magically make things
work. Or at least that it wouldn’t be this hard. I knew it was
going to take some work, but I was beginning to see just
how many obstacles we had before us. They loomed larger
than the mountains surrounding us.
“Why?” He gritted his teeth.
“Because, I never want this”—I pointed between us—“to
be about money.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I invited you here.
You are my girlfriend and the mother of my child. I think that
gives me the right to pay for your damn—” He cleared his
throat. “I mean your skis.” He gave Jameson a sheepish
grin.
I had to say, I liked watching him squirm and realize he
needed to watch his mouth around his son.
“You said a bad word,” Jameson was happy to point out.
“Yes, I did. I’m sorry,” Drake’s frustration was coming
through.
“You’re forgiven.” Jameson gave him a toothy grin,
which made Drake’s countenance soften.
“Thank you.” Drake tapped Jameson’s nose before he
turned his attention back to me. “I’ll join you in a couple of
hours.” He leaned in and brushed my lips.
“Great. Still not letting you pay for our skis.”
He groaned against my lips. “Add this to the list of
things we will talk about later.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll have security here make sure you’re not bothered.”
“Thank you.” I took Jameson’s hand.
“If anyone gives you any trouble, call me and I’ll be right
out.”
“I’m sure it will be fine.” That wasn’t exactly true. “See
you later.” I wanted to flee with my son. Not away from
Drake necessarily, but away from his “life”—and Marissa
and anyone who thought just because I had a child with
Drake it gave them the right to have access to my son or
me.
Drake tilted my chin up with his finger. “Can we please
make this a good day?” he pleaded. “I’m trying, Charlotte.”
 “I know,” my voice hitched. “It’s just this . . . is hard,” I
admitted.
“For that, I’m sorry. I wanted you to come with me today
because I’ve longed for a time when you could be by my
side as more than my assistant.”
That statement alone did more to melt my anxiety and
insecurities away. For a moment I let go of Jameson and fell
against Drake, my head landing on his chest. He wrapped
me in his arms. I held on and soaked in not only his moody
scent but what he was offering—himself.
“Can we just stay like this?”
He pulled me closer and kissed my head. “You got this.”
“So that’s a no?”
He chuckled before whispering lowly in my ear, “You and
I will rendezvous privately later tonight.”
A rendezvous? No one had ever wanted to rendezvous
with me. That sounded fun. A strong shiver coursed through
me, leaving me shaking in his arms.
“Are you guys going to keep touching?” Jameson
complained.
“Yes.” Drake kissed me chastely before letting me go.
I turned and found my son scrunching his face. “I’m not
going to ever let a girl touch me.”
“I’m okay with that.” I smiled.
Drake, on the other hand, knelt in front of our son and
tugged on his hat. “I promise one day, when you’re older
and the right girl comes around, you’re going to want her to
touch you.” Drake winked up at me. He wasn’t too bad at
this dad thing.
Jameson still wasn’t buying it and grimaced, which was
fine by me.
“Will you do me a favor while I’m in my meeting and
take care of your mom?” Drake asked Jameson.
Jameson stood tall. “I always take care of her.”
“Good man.” Drake fist-bumped Jameson. “I’ll join you
soon, and you can show me how well you ski.”
“I’m really good,” Jameson boasted.
“I have no doubt.” Drake stood and hit me with those
eyes of his. “Don’t let anyone make you feel insignificant
today, especially yourself. See you soon.” He turned and
walked away as if he hadn’t just given me the most
beautiful advice, making me want to kiss him all over.
Maybe it would all be okay.
“Mom.” Jameson tugged on my arm. “I don’t like being
famous.”
“Me neither, bud. Me neither.”

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twenty-Two
“Aunt Iz!” Jameson went flying into the house later that
night. Drake and I trailed behind him. “Aunt Iz, where are
you?”
Izzy came sauntering out of the hallway, wearing her
painting overalls.
I felt bad leaving her today, with all the work we had left
to do, but she’d encouraged me to go. I think more for
Jameson’s sake. We both knew it was important for him to
get to know Drake. And judging by today, they were going
to get along just fine. They’d zipped up and down the slopes
together in fine father-and-son-fashion. I’d let them do a few
runs by themselves, as weird as it was for me not to be by
Jameson’s side. But I wanted more than anything for Drake
and Jameson to love each other. For them to have a lasting
relationship. I never wanted a moment between father and
son where either one of them would say things that are not
only hard to take back but would lead to an estrangement.
Jameson flew to Izzy. “You should have seen me today. I
was awesome!” he bragged.
Izzy picked him up and snuggled him to her. “Tell me all
about it.”
Drake kissed my cheek. “I need to call Quinn, but I’ll be
down to read to Jameson before bed.” I’d been replaced as
the storyteller. Jameson had traded me in already, begging
his dad to be the one to read to him tonight. I wasn’t upset
at all. I took it as a good sign.
 “Don’t go easy on Martez,” I growled. Quinn had left a
message that they’d located the turncoat.
“I don’t intend to.” He rushed up the stairs. He was
looking forward to nailing Martez to the wall. Because guess
who’d told Marissa a few days ago that Drake had a child?
I couldn’t wait to tell Izzy about the run-in I’d had with
Marissa while Drake and Jameson were skiing. But first I let
Jameson regale her with his tale.
“Drake knows how to ski on the mogul hill, and he said
next time he’ll take me on it and buy me my own skis
because Mom wouldn’t let him buy us skis today, but he
really wants to because he’s my dad and that’s what dads
do.” Jameson didn’t even take a breath.
Izzy smirked at me, knowing exactly how I felt about the
issue. I didn’t need Drake coming in here and lavishing us
with gifts. I was sure that was his way of saying he cared,
but I wanted his and Jameson’s relationship to be about so
much more than the things Drake could buy him.
“Mom and Drake fought about it, but he told me he
would talk her into it.”
“Oh really?” I sang.
“Yeah, Mom, it’s the right thing to do.”
I rolled my eyes while Izzy laughed.
“I went really fast down the hill,” Jameson quickly
moved on. “I didn’t fall down one time, but Mom fell down
two times and people took pictures of her.”
I cringed thinking about it. I was sure those were going
to be posted somewhere. My mom was sure to send them to
me, just like she had with the ones she’d seen of Drake and
Marissa today. I’d had to talk my parents off the ledge after
that one. Dad was ready to come up here and box Drake’s
ears, whatever that meant.
Marissa had cornered Drake, taken a selfie of them
together, and posted it to her Instagram account. Caption—
Look who I found! More like hunted down. She added, Aren’t
we cute together? More like stunning, but who was I to
argue? I think the woman was made of Velcro. She sure
knew how to stick to Drake. No matter how many times
Drake told her to leave him alone, she wouldn’t. She has a
Drake fetish. Which I totally get, but it wasn’t helping my
insecurities any, I’ll tell you that.
“Sounds like you had a good day,” Izzy interjected,
while Jameson took a breath.
“It was the best. And tomorrow Drake and Mom are
buying me a dog after school.”
Izzy dipped her chin and pursed her lips at me. Yes, I
know I was a pushover. But I’d lied, and she didn’t see the
way Jameson had taken Marissa down. He’d even told her,
after she’d accosted Drake for the last time, that she should
get a bigger breast blanket. I mean, he wasn’t lying.
“Why don’t you get ready for bed, bud. It’s way past
your bedtime.”
“I’m not tired,” he complained.
“You have school tomorrow, so hop to it.”
“Fine,” he grumbled, and jumped out of Izzy’s arms.
 I tousled his hair on his way past me. “Don’t forget to
brush your teeth. Drake and I will be in to read to you.”
“What about sliding?” he whined.
“We’ll slide extra tomorrow. It’s late.” I wasn’t a total
pushover. More like I was exhausted.
He stomped off like I’d just ruined his life. He had it so
rough.
Izzy chuckled before pointing at the steps. “Sit and spill
your guts, sister.”
I dragged my tired body over to the staircase and
lowered myself onto one of the bottom steps. Izzy sat next
to me, surveying me. “You okay?”
I leaned my head on her shoulder. “Yes, just a long day.”
“Mom sent me the pictures of Marissa and Drake. Drake
looked like he was being held hostage.” She giggled.
“Something like that. I can’t believe she showed up. And
you should see Drake’s new costar, Avriel. She’s nice, at
least I think so—she speaks French, so she didn’t say much.
She’s more gorgeous than Marissa, but at least she didn’t
drape herself like a tablecloth over Drake every chance she
could.”
“Marissa has a case of attentionwhoritis,” Izzy spat.
I broke out into a fit of giggles. “Where did you hear that
word?”
“I just made it up. Feel free to use it and spread it
around.”
“Oh, I will, especially when it comes to Marissa. She had
the gall to tell me it will never last between Drake and me.
And once he’s done playing the daddy angle for publicity, all
I’ll get from him is a child support check every month.”
“Are you worried that’s true?”
My head popped up. “No. Why would you ask that?”
She patted my knee. “Because I know you.”
I let out an elongated sigh. “Drake was wonderful
today,” I whispered. “Never once did he do anything to
make me think this was a publicity stunt. He’s not that kind
of person. But I realized that, now more than ever, I don’t
belong in his world. I’ve never felt so violated, having
cameras in my face and people asking such invasive
questions. There’s a photographer across the street as we
speak. And I overheard two men say that they can’t believe
Drake would choose me over Marissa,” I whined, sounding
just like my son.
“Char, men like that are pigs and only looking for one
thing.”
“I guarantee online media outlets will be saying the
same thing. Eventually, I’ll be in one of those spreads about
famous men who date ‘regular’ girls. While it will give all the
plain Janes hope, most people will think Drake’s an idiot.”
“Well, if he chooses Marissa over you, he is an idiot. And
you are no plain Jane.”
“I am, compared to the Marissas of the world.”
“Did you tell Drake how you feel?”
“Not all the gory details, but he knows today wasn’t a
walk in the park for me.”
“And what did he say?”
 “He said not to let anyone make me feel insignificant,
especially not myself.”
“Wow. That’s good. I still don’t like him, but that’s
excellent advice. You should listen to that.”
“I tried to, but everywhere I turned today I felt like the
world was telling me I didn’t belong with Drake.”
Her eyes lit up with some hope, though I would give her
credit for tamping it down. “Do you agree?” Okay, her hope
was back in full force.
“Izzy, I love him. He’s the father of my child. I just wish
he were something less conspicuous, like an accountant,
and wanted to live here with us and live, mostly, happily
ever after.”
Her brow arched. “Mostly?”
“I’m trying to be realistic.” I grinned.
“Yeah, well, I don’t see Drake Foster giving up Hollywood
for Fair Hollow. That sounds like a fairy tale or the plot to a
cheesy Hallmark movie.” She flashed me her pearly whites.
“I know,” I whispered.
“So, what are you going to do? Move to LA?” There was
some serious trepidation in her voice.
“No,” I put her at ease.
She pressed her lips together, obviously seeing the
quandary before me.
“We’ll work it out,” I stuttered, not sure how.
She rubbed my arm. “I hope for your sake that you can.”
With that, we heard Drake walking down the upstairs
hallway.
 “That’s my cue.” Izzy popped up. “Char, don’t let love
ruin your happiness.”
I tilted my head. “What does that mean?”
She waved her hand around, showcasing our beautiful
money pit. “Don’t forget, you came here for a reason. Many
happy reasons. In fact, I’ve never seen you as happy as you
have been here.”
Drake closed in, and before I could respond, Izzy
skedaddled—leaving major heartburn in her wake. I rubbed
my chest, praying I didn’t have to choose between the inn
and Drake. I could have both, right? Not that I placed things
above people—I didn’t. And I didn’t expect Drake to give up
his home and life in LA either. I knew that wouldn’t be fair. I
suppose I was hoping for some miracle compromise that
allowed us to be together more often than not.
Drake landed next to me and took my hand. When our
fingers intertwined, I felt at home. That had to mean
something.
“How’s Quinn?” I leaned my head on his shoulder.
“Considering I’m paying him a thousand dollars an hour
currently, I would say he’s doing well.”
I couldn’t even imagine making that kind of money, or
having that kind of money to spend. “I would hope so.”
“He’s getting ready to serve papers to that weasel,
Martez. I’m sorry I ever brought him here.”
“How were you to know?”
He rubbed my hand between his own. “I’m done with
assistants. They are nothing but trouble,” he said with a
teasing air.
“Hey, there. I was an amazing assistant.”
“You, more than any other, drove me crazy.”
“Excuse me.” I was highly offended.
He nuzzled my neck, his scruff tickling me while he
pressed warm kisses against my skin, driving me wild. “You
still drive me crazy.”
“You’re welcome,” I stuttered out. “We better put
Jameson to bed.” I leaned my head back, giving him better
access to my neck.
He trailed kisses upward slowly and sensuously, while
saying, “Will you read me a bedtime story too?”
“Uh-huh” was all I could manage to get out. My body
was on fire and shouting all sorts of profanities.
“And kiss me good night?” He skimmed my jawline, then
captured my lips before I could respond. At least verbally.
I dug my fingers into his hair, begging him to kiss me
deeply. He readily complied. His tongue swept my mouth
while he groaned.
“Mom, Drake,” Jameson called from our suite.
Drake did one more sweep before releasing me from his
heavenly grasp. He took a moment to peer into my eyes
while gently brushing back my bangs. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Giving me a son.”
He couldn’t have said anything sexier to me. I was so
choked up about it, I couldn’t respond.
“He’s a great kid.”
 “He is.”
“Mom, Drake!” Jameson called again, this time louder.
Drake grinned. “It’s weird—normally I would be irritated
at the interruption, but with him it’s different.”
I leaned my forehead against his, so very happy. “For
that, I’m going to read to you extra-long tonight.”
“Hmmm. I can’t wait.” He kissed my lips before standing
and helping me up.
As we walked toward Jameson’s room hand in hand,
there was an undeniable rightness to it all. All of us together
in this place. That feeling only intensified as I sat on
Jameson’s bed with Drake, watching Jameson snuggle into
his side while Drake read to him. With every turn of the
page, Drake would take a moment to stare in amazement at
our little boy. I recognized the look, as I had gazed at
Jameson so many times that same way—like, how could I
have created something so perfect? It was all the more
special, knowing Drake was the only other person on earth
who could even come close to understanding how I felt
about Jameson.
I continued to watch in wonder as I witnessed a father
coming to love his son and his son realizing he wanted a
dad. It was then I decided to do whatever I had to, to
overcome my own insecurities. I couldn’t and wouldn’t stand
in the way of the bond forming right in front of my eyes—
even if that meant having my life play out for the press and
having to own my mistake in a very public way. And dealing
with Hollywood sirens.
 By the time Drake said, “The end,” Jameson was half-
asleep. He’d had a full, active day.
I leaned in and kissed my son’s cheek. “Good night,
honey. I love you.”
“Good night, Mommy, love you.” His little voice filled
with sleep as he snuggled farther into Drake. “Good night,”
he slurred.
“Good night.” Drake instinctively kissed his head.
My heart melted into a big puddle of goo.
Drake gently extricated himself from a sleeping
Jameson, but before he could stand, Jameson’s eyes opened
halfway. “I think you’re going to be a good dad,” he said,
before drifting back to sleep.
Drake blinked a dozen times, stunned.
I leaned in and whispered in his ear, “I think you’re
going to be a good dad too. Now it’s time for your bedtime
story.” My lips brushed his ear, making goose bumps rise on
his skin.
“I think I’m going to like the ending,” he crooned.
That was the plan. A happy ending for all of us.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twenty-Three
“Your favorite reporter says good morning.” I oozed
sarcasm as I unhooked Fiona’s leash from her collar. Fiona,
the mixed Lab we’d gotten from the local animal shelter a
few days ago, shook the snow off her, making a wet mess in
the foyer. It was a good thing she was sweeter than sugar
and had come already house trained. Unfortunately, that
meant giving the media—still parked in an empty lot across
the street—more access to us than I liked every time she
needed to go out. But at this point I was more annoyed than
anxious about it. I’d taken to wearing my bright-purple puffy
coat and obnoxious furry boots so they would at least have
something fun to write about. I’d even brought hot
chocolate out to them, just for kicks and giggles.
“How is Leland?” Drake asked with a smirk. Apparently,
Leland was known for following Drake around the globe.
“Great. He says to tell you that you owe him fifty bucks
since the Bulls beat the Lakers.” I set Fiona free.
She ran straight back to our suite to look for Jameson,
even though he was already at school. Jameson was in love
with her and insisted she sleep on his bed every night. How
could I refuse after lying to him?
“I can’t believe the Bulls made that last-second shot,”
he grumbled. Drake had introduced the wonders of
basketball to Jameson last night, and of course promised to
take him to a game and introduce him to some of the
players. Our lives were never going to be the same.
 I just hoped one day we wouldn’t need security to follow
us around 24-7. Or that my mom would quit sending me
pictures from the internet featuring me taking Fiona for
walks or buying tampons at the grocery store. Though she
was loving my ridiculous outfits. But honestly, what was
wrong with people? The good news was that if this kept up,
once the inn opened, we would be booked for life. We’d had
a lot of calls from people wanting to stay here all of a
sudden. I was sure they all hoped to catch a glimpse of
Drake. And I’m pretty sure the entire town had now RSVP’d
to the Valentine’s Day ball. Little did they know, Drake
wouldn’t be there. He was still planning on leaving at the
end of next week. He would be gone for a long while. Not
only did he have to attend the BAFTAs, but he was set to be
on location in Toronto. I wasn’t looking forward to the
separation. Neither was Jameson.
I took off my coat, hung it on the coatrack, and slipped
out of my boots. “Sorry for your loss,” I teased him.
He reached for my cold hand, engulfing it in his warm
masculine one, and pulled me to him. “Why don’t you make
me feel better?” His minty breath danced across my cheeks.
I stood on my tiptoes and let my lips tease his. “What’s
in it for me?”
He inched closer, his lips grazing mine, tempting me—
and showing me exactly what was in it for me.
I took the bait, hook, line, and sinker. My eager lips
pressed against his.
 He picked me up, and I wound my legs around him. I
don’t know about him, but I was feeling better already.
With each prod of his tongue, he reached deeper and
deeper until he stole my breath. He had just backed me up
against the wall when Izzy appeared.
“Oh. My. Gosh. We have over a dozen rooms in this
place. Pick one, already.”
When Drake pulled away, it literally made a suctioning
sound, which only made Izzy grimace more.
I slid down Drake like a sexy fireman’s pole, giving Izzy
an abashed smile.
She curled her lip. “Keep this up and you’ll be explaining
to Jameson how a baby got in your belly.” She marched off.
Drake went ashen faced.
“You okay there?”
He tugged on his collar. “Yes, just . . .”
“Just what?” I tilted my head.
“The thought of you being pregnant again.” He
swallowed hard and let out a heavy breath.
I took a step back and grabbed my midsection. “You
don’t have anything to worry about since we aren’t sleeping
together, but .  .  . is the thought of me carrying your child
that awful to you?” I couldn’t hide the hurt in my voice.
“You’re taking that wrong,” he got defensive.
“So, you wouldn’t mind having another baby with me?”
He pressed his lips together and rubbed his neck. “I
didn’t know you wanted another baby,” he evaded my
question.
 “Not today, but I would love to have another baby in the
future. Another baby with you,” I added.
He was back to going pale.
“I take it that’s not something you want.” I felt queasy.
He grabbed my hand. “I didn’t say that. It’s just, why do
we need to worry about it right now?”
“So, you’re open to the idea in the future?” A girl
needed to know these things.
“Maybe.” He didn’t sound too sure. “Charlotte, I’m still
trying to wrap my head around being a father. And I like
where we’re at right now.”
“I get that I sprung the whole dad thing on you. And I
don’t expect you to transition to a family man overnight.
Even though you’re doing great. But .  .  .” I bit my lip. “I
need you to know that I want to get married and have more
children. That’s where I see this going.”
He blinked an inordinate number of times, stunned into
silence.
“Oh,” my voice hitched. “I guess we’re on different
pages.” I felt so sucker-punched, I was having a hard time
catching my breath. And not in a good way. I felt as if I were
watching all my hopes and dreams for our future go up in
flames.
When he still said nothing, I tugged my hand out of his.
“I need to get to work.” I had no idea what else to say. I
turned to head upstairs, feeling numb inside.
“Charlotte.” He gently grabbed my arm, his bewildered
eyes trying to focus. “I want to be with you. What difference
does the label make?”
“Marriage isn’t a label. And I’m not expecting you, or
even begging you, to propose to me anytime soon, but—call
me old fashioned—I want that commitment. I want Jameson
to know we are committed to each other. And if that’s the
kind of commitment you’re offering me, then I can ask you
the same question. Why does the marriage ‘label’ bother
you, if all it is to you is a label?”
He dropped my arm. “I would think that would be
obvious to you. You know about my past.”
“I do. I thought you wanted to work through that.”
“I am,” he growled.
“Great. Have you contacted your mom or dad?” I hadn’t
brought it up before, as I had been giving him time to settle
into the dad role, which he seemed to be naturally
acclimating to. He was a pro in the car pickup line at school,
and he could read a mean bedtime story. He even knew how
to build a good snowman and give good night hugs and
kisses.
“What good would that do?” He turned paler than when
he’d thought about me being pregnant.
“I don’t know, maybe give you some perspective, help
you forgive yourself? Perhaps let you be able to move on
with your life so you can make a life with Jameson and me,”
I added quietly. I thought that had been the point of him
telling me about his past.
“I am moving on with my life. I’m here with you and
Jameson. What more do you want from me?” he spat.
 I took a step back physically—and figuratively, I think. “I
want you to be happy.” I truly meant that.
“I am happy with you. Why can’t we just leave it at that
for now?”
“I’m happy that you’re here too, but I’m smart enough
to know that even as magical as you think I am, it’s not
going to fix the damage caused by your past. Eventually
you’ll have to truly confront it. And whether you like it or
not, you will have to confront what your future looks like
with me.”
He cocked his left brow. “Are you giving me an
ultimatum?”
“No. I’m not that kind of person.” I was hurt he would
even think so. “I’m just being honest with you. You know
what I want now. And if you don’t want that, it’s a good
thing for both of us to know.” Even if the answer would
break my heart. And the way he stood there, running his
fingers through his hair and not saying anything, meant the
odds were that I was likely in for a painful reality check.
He finally let out a frustrated sigh. “I want you and
Jameson in my life; I don’t know what else you want me to
say.”
I wanted him to say so much more, but I knew it wasn’t
fair of me to expect him to come around to my way of
thinking. Honestly, I didn’t want him to change his mind
because of anything I said. If he didn’t want marriage and
more children, it was best he own that. I would have to
come to terms with it and decide where we went from there,
as difficult as it would be for me.
“You don’t have to say anything else,” I whispered,
longing to be alone with my thoughts and to nurse my
wounds.
“I didn’t expect any of this. I’m doing the best I can,” he
raised his voice.
“I know that.”
“Hell, Charlotte, we don’t even live in the same state.”
“All good points,” my voice broke, along with my heart. I
felt like he was giving me a laundry list of why this wasn’t
going to work out. I don’t think he meant to, but I heard the
message loud and clear.
He noticed my shaky hands. His shoulders rose and fell.
“I’m not trying to hurt you.”
I shoved my hands in my pockets, trying to control the
trembling. I was hurting. Badly.
When I said nothing, he leaned down and kissed my
burning cheek. “We’ll figure it out. I need to go return a few
calls, and then I’m running lines with Avriel via Zoom,” he
said, as if it would make everything better.
“Have fun.” It was all I could think to say. Meanwhile I
was dying inside.
“I’ll be done in time to pick up Jameson.”
I nodded, for fear if I spoke the floodgates would burst.
He gave me a half smile before heading toward the
stairs.
 I stood and watched him walk away. It hit me that I was
probably going to have to let him go. As much as I loved
him, I didn’t want to be someone’s perpetual girlfriend.
Someone he saw when his schedule would allow. I wanted to
be his everything. Was that too much to ask?

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twenty-Four
“I’m sorry, but I have to ogle your man.” Celeste, one of
the moms I had befriended from Jameson’s class, fanned
herself.
I looked up from my notes on the snack bar table, where
I was planning the Valentine’s Day party for Jameson’s
school with the other room moms. I watched Drake skate
with Jameson. They were adorable, racing around the old
rink to the blaring eighties music and flashing strobe light. I
loved how Drake seemed to fit into Jameson’s world. Yet, I
wanted to tell Celeste that Drake wasn’t mine. It felt like he
was a temporary loaner. Things were definitely tentative
between us since yesterday’s big reveal, for lack of a better
term. I swear, now Drake looked at me like I was some
ovulating, baby-crazed monster who wanted to upend his
world. He had barely touched me, and when we spoke it felt
like forced politeness. He was probably afraid I would coax
him into having sex. No worries there. I was so glad we
hadn’t given into that temptation.
I took a sip of my Coke before responding, “Feel free to
ogle.” She might as well, since everyone else was.
A couple of other moms at the table giggled.
“I can’t believe you used to work for him,” Bree said, as
she snapped a picture of him. “What other famous friends
do you have and are they single?”
“Bree, you’re married,” Celeste reminded her.
 “I’m checking to see if Sam Heughan is still available
and if he wants to give me a tour of his homeland, Scotland.
Dave is welcome to come.” Dave was her husband.
We laughed. I needed a good laugh. Actually, I needed a
good cry, but I felt as if my heart were paralyzed from trying
to protect itself. A numbness had overtaken me.
“I’ve never met Sam, but Drake might know him. You
can ask him.”
Bree’s cheeks pinked. “I don’t know if I can talk to him. I
had a poster of him in my college dorm room.”
That was weird to think about, but I totally got it. I used
to stalk his fan page before I worked for him. Also strange.
Who knew he would father my child? “He’s pretty down to
earth,” I responded.
“You sure kept a good secret.” Celeste kept ogling him.
“Yeah,” I whispered. I sure did.
Jameson came rolling our way, barely tall enough to look
over the rink’s half-wall edge. “Mom,” he shouted above the
music. “Come skate with us.” He flashed me a toothy grin.
“Please.”
How could I resist that smile? “Give me a second.” I
turned toward the ladies. “I’m happy to bring the cupcakes
and paper products. Just let me know what else I can do.”
“You’re a doll.” Celeste smiled while jotting down my
assignment in her notebook.
I stood on my skates, feeling off-balance. Not because I
was on wheels, but because yesterday had shaken me to
my core. I was so naive to think that Drake would want to
marry me and do some more procreating.
Drake had joined Jameson and was waiting for me, too.
All the ladies at the table were full-on gawking. Drake
waved and said “Hello.” Each woman blushed unabashedly.
Drake smiled, knowing exactly the effect he had.
I skated around the half-wall and met Jameson and
Drake, intent on keeping my composure. So, I wasn’t getting
the happy ending I had envisioned. I just prayed my soul
would eventually find solace, because I refused to let it
mourn for Drake’s for the rest of my life. It better dang well
realize since we shared a child, it would mean having to see
Drake, and he would definitely move on from me. I bet as
soon as word got out that we were no longer a couple, even
my friends here would consider making a play for him. The
world was his smorgasbord.
Drake gave me the same uneasy smile he’d been giving
me since yesterday. The one that said, I will not be your
baby daddy, so don’t even think about it.
That had me reaching for Jameson’s hand instead of
Drake’s.
Thankfully, Jameson was still at the age where he would
hold my hand in public.
“Are you having fun?” I asked my son.
“Yes! Did you see me do the limbo?”
“I watched you the entire time.”
“Lila won,” he grumbled.
“You can try again,” I tried to console him.
 We skated around a large group of children and parents.
Drake moved to Jameson’s other side. The way he gracefully
glided across the old wooden rink reminded everyone he
was not like the rest of us. He just exuded this air of
confidence.
“Heaven Is a Place on Earth” blared on the surround
sound. How ironic was that? It was feeling sort of hellish.
Being on the cusp of having everything you ever wanted but
knowing you would never grasp it was torturous to say the
least. Drake had no idea how I’d longed for days like this.
Days when I didn’t feel alone in this parenting thing. Days
when he was by my side. But these days were numbered,
and it killed me.
Drake kept giving me furtive glances. I wondered if
people could sense the tension between us.
Jameson did me no favors. “There’s Ollie. Bye, Mom.
Bye, Drake.” He let go of my hand and zigzagged between
several skaters to get to his best friend.
Drake and I skated halfway around the rink in silence, as
he inched closer to me. It felt like we were on an awkward
first date. The whole will-he-or-won’t-he-hold-my-hand kept
running through my mind like I was a teenager once again.
It didn’t help that I felt every set of eyes on us. They’d seen
the media posts and heard about our little rendezvous in the
hospital, but I knew everyone wondered if we were truly a
couple. We didn’t match. I knew that. He was all gorgeous
and debonair while I was the cute, perky mom living a very
ordinary life. A life Drake obviously didn’t want. The tension
and stares got so ridiculous, I finally said, “I should get back
to planning the party.”
“Don’t.” Drake took my hand.
I swore I heard a collective gasp from the adults
humming under the music. I wanted to tell them all not to
get too worked up over it. His gesture didn’t mean what
they surmised. Or perhaps they were in shock that someone
like him would want to be with me. Little did they know, he
didn’t really want to be with me.
Drake’s fingers intertwined with my own, and he pulled
me closer. My body reveled in his touch, yet my heart put
the brakes on before getting too worked up over it.
We said nothing as we skated around and around.
Although, I longed to tell him how much I loved seeing him
with Jameson tonight. How much I appreciated him jumping
into the dad role. But I couldn’t say any of those things for
fear he would think I was trying to trap him in our mundane
life. That all I had visions of were wedding bells and the
pitter-patter of little feet. So, the silence lingered with each
lap around the rink. It felt like such a metaphor for our
relationship. We were going through the motions, around
and around, but never really getting anywhere.
Each go-round, Drake’s grip tightened as his thumb
brushed across my hand. It was as if he knew we were
grasping for something that wouldn’t last.
The grasping and silence lingered through the night
until we got home. Though we both tried to make Jameson’s
bedtime routine as normal and as lighthearted as usual.
Fiona added to the fun, as she loved to run alongside
Jameson when he slid in his socks. I was grateful we had
applied a scratch-resistant coating to the hardwood floors. It
was the cutest thing to see Jameson slide, then fall down on
purpose so Fiona would jump on him and lick his face. Okay,
so the face licking wasn’t all that cute, but Jameson’s giggle
was.
Drake and I stood back, watching our son and his dog.
Words still escaping us.
I needed Izzy, but she’d been opting out of the bedtime
routine, letting Drake do the dad thing. And she wanted to
maim Drake, so there was that.
“Hey, buddy.” Drake found some words to say. “Would
you go get your pajamas on so I can talk to your mom for a
minute?”
Jameson hopped up. “Okay, but don’t forget, I can stay
up later because it’s Friday and you said we could watch a
movie together.”
“I didn’t forget.” Drake smiled. A smile that was all
Jameson’s. I’d never seen such a smile on his face. It said
that he was amazed by this creature who bore his genes. It
made me wonder if I had a mom smile. A smile that said,
You’re all mine, and I love you so much I want to burst.
Meanwhile, I was nervous about what Drake wanted to
say to me. He’d held my hand all the way home while he
drove, gripping ever tighter, but never saying anything. Yet,
I knew it held meaning.
 Jameson and Fiona scurried away while Drake and I
watched them go.
“He’s full of life, isn’t he?” Drake commented.
“That he is.”
Once they were gone, Drake set his sights on me. He
reached for my hand and gathered it between his own. His
expression teetered between pensive and adoring. His
gentle touch had my heart tingling—the numbness was
wearing off. I wasn’t sure I was ready to feel my feelings. I
stilled where I stood, knowing if he drew me toward him the
dam of feelings might break.
Drake wasn’t having my reluctance and stepped closer,
pressing our clasped hands against his ridiculously hard
chest. “Charlotte, I know I’ve hurt you, and I’m sorry for
that. I wish I could give you exactly what you want right
now, but I can’t.”
My traitorous eyes welled with tears. It’s not like I didn’t
know how he felt, but there was something about hearing
him say it again. It made it all so real. “Thank you for your
honesty.” My lower lip trembled, trying to hold it together. “I
should go make sure Jameson brushes his teeth.” I pulled
my hand out of his grip.
“Charlotte, please hear me out. You’re acting like this is
the end of our relationship. That’s the last thing I want.”
“But we want different things.” I wiped the corner of my
eye before a tear escaped.
“We want each other—why can’t that be enough for
now? You can’t give me time?”
 “I didn’t say that. But I’ve already waited a long time for
you. How much longer do I need to wait?” I begged to know.
“I’m here now.” He paused. “Actually, I need to talk to
you about my schedule.”
That was quite the segue. I wrapped my arms around
myself and waited for him to hit me with what I assumed
wasn’t going to be the best of news.
“The timing couldn’t be worse, but I need to head back
to LA tomorrow.”
“Oh.” I wrapped my arms around myself tighter.
Jameson was going to be devastated. Add me to that list,
too.
“I’m sure you think I’m running again, but that’s not the
case. With the news of Jameson, my PR team is going crazy
fielding calls and requests for interviews. They think it’s best
if I come home and do a few talk shows. I think it’s best for
all of us. As soon as I give the bloodsuckers what they want,
you’ll be able to walk Fiona in peace.” He gave me a
crooked smile.
“That would be nice,” my mouth said, while my heart
was feeling all the feelings and crumbling. I couldn’t help
but think he was running. Maybe I should have kept my
mouth shut yesterday. I had a habit of being too honest
about my feelings. Yes, it was good to know we had different
goals in mind, but I didn’t mean to push him away. Our son
needed him to be here.
“Unfortunately, I won’t be able to come back until after
the BAFTAs. Then I’m headed to Toronto.”
 “It’s your job,” I said half-heartedly.
He stepped closer and brushed my bangs. “Come to the
BAFTAs with me.”
Being in London with Drake sounded wonderful but . . .
“I wish I could, but I can’t. It’s the same day as the
Valentine’s Day ball, and I let my passport expire a couple of
years ago.” I was too busy running after a toddler at the
time, and since I wasn’t planning any exotic trips, it didn’t
seem worth the hassle.
“Damn,” he breathed out. “Renew it and make sure to
get Jameson one. You can both come to Toronto with me.”
“Okay. We’ll try and visit one weekend.”
His brow scrunched. “You can stay the entire time. I’ll
get accommodations for us.”
“Jameson has school and I have to help Izzy get this
place up and running.” I waved my hand around.
“I’ll hire a tutor and any contractor you want to finish
this place.”
I took his hand. “Drake, as wonderful as that all sounds,
we can’t just pull Jameson out of school. And Izzy has given
up so much to help me make this place a reality. I can’t just
up and leave for a couple of months. Besides, I love that I
have to work for this place. It’s made it that much more
special to me. It’s like making a dream come true.” I looked
up at the ceiling. The empty space in the middle, meant for
my chandelier, called to me. I knew Drake could easily pay
for the beauty that was destined to hang there. Ten
thousand dollars was nothing to him. But it didn’t feel right.
I wanted to someday dance on the very floor where I stood
and look up to see that chandelier, knowing Izzy and I had
made it happen. “If I let you pay for my dreams then they
can no longer come true.”
“Charlotte, that makes no sense. Will you please let me
make some of your dreams come true?” His frustration was
mounting.
“I would love nothing more than for you to make my
biggest dream come true, but that requires the hardest
work of all.”
His eyes widened, acknowledging that he knew exactly
the dream I was speaking of. The trepidation clearly shone
in his sea-green peepers.
I stood on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “I love you,
Drake Foster.” There I went again, blabbing my feelings.
Honestly, though, it felt good to finally get that out, even
knowing he might not feel the same way. Knowing for sure
he wouldn’t reciprocate it, even if he did. We both had some
things to work on. It was all part of the dream, though, as
hard as it was. “I will wait for you, but not forever.”
He placed his hand on the cheek I had just kissed,
staring at me in bewilderment.
“You heard me right. Now you get to decide what to do
with that information.” In the meantime, I would be working
on the dreams I could.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twenty-Five
One of the hardest things I have ever had to do was
watch my son say goodbye to his father. Thankfully, Izzy
was there to hold my hand—even though I knew she was
probably only there to make sure Drake left. That was her
dream. I couldn’t say I blamed her. All she saw was a man
running. And maybe she was right. Only time would tell. If
she ended up being right, then I would let him go. That I
knew. He was one dream I wouldn’t chase. That dream, of
us being together, could only be worked on side by side.
I wrung the life out of Izzy’s hand in the early-morning
light while tears streamed down my face watching Drake
kneel near the front door, his luggage by his side, hugging a
crying Jameson.
“Why do you have to go?” Jameson cried. His trusty
sidekick, Fiona, tried to butt her nose in, anxious that her
boy was upset.
I wanted to take away his pain, too, but couldn’t, and
that hurt in ways there were no words for. Add that on top of
the fact my own heart was having palpitations, knowing
Drake was leaving and perhaps this would be it for us. At
least on the couple front. We were co-parents now, so we
would always have to be in each other’s lives.
“Jameson,” Drake’s voice cracked, as he held on as tight
as he could to our son. “I wish I didn’t have to go, but like I
told you last night, there are things I need to take care of
back home.”
 “Why can’t this be your home?” Jameson cried,
obliterating my heart.
Drake caught my eye, and I noticed the shimmery mist
covering his. “Maybe someday it will be, but for now I’ll visit
as often as I can, and you and your mom will visit me. And
I’ll call you every day.”
“You promise? Every day?” Jameson sniffled.
“I pinky promise.” Drake held out his pinky.
Jameson intertwined his little pinky with his dad’s large
masculine one. I prayed that bond would last, that Drake
would hold true to the promises he made to Jameson.
Drake stared at their pinkies linked together too. His
gaze was one of determination. It gave me some hope. Then
he tenderly wiped the tears off Jameson’s cheek with his
thumb. “I’m going to miss you.”
Jameson fell against him. “I’m going to miss you too.”
I turned into Izzy with uncontrollable tears. I loved and
hated Drake so much in that moment. Izzy, ever the best
big sister, wrapped me in her arms, always trying to protect
me.
“Be good for your mom.” Drake kissed Jameson’s head.
“I might get in some trouble,” Jameson admitted,
making us all chuckle.
“Not too much, okay?” Drake smiled.
“I’ll try.” Jameson touched Drake’s face like he was
trying to memorize it.
Drake stood but kept ahold of Jameson, yet set his
sights on me. With his finger he motioned for me to join
them.
Izzy reluctantly let me go, giving Drake a look that could
wilt every flower in a botanical garden. Yet, let me go she
did.
I tiptoed toward the loves of my life. When I was close
enough, Drake tugged on my painting T-shirt and pulled me
right to him and his lips. He pressed his own gently against
mine. My tears made it a salty kiss.
“This isn’t goodbye,” he whispered.
I wasn’t so sure, so I pressed harder against his lips,
soaking him and his intoxicating, moody scent in.
“I promise,” he said, as if he knew my doubts.
I wanted to believe him. I snuggled into his chest. Drake
put one arm around me, and one around Jameson. No one
said anything. It was almost as if perhaps no one uttered a
thing, we could stay in that moment—all together. The way
it was supposed to be. But if life had taught me anything, it
was that not all supposed to bes happen. People’s choices
can be a real killjoy sometimes. And Drake had a choice to
make.
After several minutes Drake whispered, “I’m going to be
late for my flight.”
I was okay with that. But I knew I had to let him go.
“Safe travels,” I muttered against him, before I
mustered up the courage to let go. I stepped back with a
deep cleansing breath, holding on to Jameson with all that I
had.
 Drake swallowed hard, as if pushing down the inevitable
goodbye. “I’ll call when I land.”
I nodded, fearing I might bawl if I opened my mouth.
“Bye, Drake,” Jameson whimpered.
“Bye, buddy,” Drake said softly.
I couldn’t say the words; instead, I gave a half-hearted
wave.
Drake apparently couldn’t say them either. Instead, he
grabbed my shirt, and in a swift tug pulled me to him. His
lips landed directly on mine, pressing as hard as he could
until they melded together. Every cell in my body felt that
kiss as I trembled from his touch. But just as soon as it
happened, his lips glided off mine. Then, in an unexpected
plot twist, he whispered in my ear, “I love you, Charlotte.”
He grabbed his bags and rushed out the door before letting
me respond.
I stood completely immobilized, not even able to blink,
trying to comprehend what had just happened. Did Drake
Foster just tell me he loved me? Or was I having an
aneurysm? It was a toss-up.
“Mommy.” Jameson tugged on my hand. “Can you marry
Drake so he can live here and be my dad?”
Izzy gasped at the thought. I gave her a semi-evil eye. I
couldn’t be fully evil; she was too good to me.
“I’m off to make breakfast.” She left me alone with my
son.
“Oh, J man.” I hugged him. “Drake is your dad no matter
what.”
 “Maybe if I called him Dad he would have stayed.”
I knelt next to him and tousled his curls. “Nothing you
did—or didn’t do—made him leave. He just needs to figure
some stuff out.”
“Can I call him Dad?”
“Of course. I think he would like that.”
Jameson gave me a toothy grin. “Okay, when he calls,
I’m going to tell him that.”
I had some things to say to him too.
~*~
After breakfast was over and Jameson was helping Izzy
strip the wallpaper out of one of the downstairs bathrooms, I
headed up to the infamous honeymoon suite. It was calling
to me like never before. I was trying to wrap my head
around the thought that Drake loved me. Could it be
possible that I would be more than his beneficiary? Maybe
he wasn’t running.
As always, I crept into the room. Best to have the
memories not hit me all at once. The old ones and the new
ones. I’d fallen asleep with him a few times during his stay.
It was probably foolish to tempt fate, but I’d kept to my new
rule about “sleeping” with him. But there was something
about slumbering in his arms and waking up to his kisses.
It’s where I belonged. A place where I had him all to myself
instead of having to share him with the world. In his arms, I
wasn’t cute and perky—I was desired and beautiful.
I had to give it to the man for leaving the room as
meticulous as he’d found it. For someone who had more
than one maid, he was good about cleaning up after himself.
He’d even made the bed. And . . . left a note by the looks of
it. I hoped it wasn’t another partially written one. I was
hopeful, as it was neatly folded instead of crumpled.
I dashed toward the bed and plucked the note from the
pillow infused with his intoxicating scent. That baby was
coming downstairs with me. Might as well torture myself
some more and literally cling to his scent at night.
He’d once again used some of the inn’s stationery.
I sat on the bed and carefully unfolded the note, anxious
to know his thoughts.
Dear Charlotte,
I can’t sleep for missing having you in my arms. I keep
telling myself to go downstairs and beg you to let me hold
you, but I’m feeling all too human already. I’m afraid if I do,
I’ll be yours to command. How can you love me, Charlotte?
Your words and feelings are weighing heavily on me. They
are challenging me to confront my past and parents.
Jameson asked me to do the same before he died, to right
our wrongs. Not even for him have I been able to. I’ve been
too damn weak. But for you, Charlotte, I want to—because I
need you. I’ve gone my entire life making sure I never
needed anyone, and then came you. You have rendered me
human and vulnerable. It’s infuriating, yet I can’t help but
love you. Yes, I love you. I can’t say for how long, because
I’ve spent so much time and energy trying to deny it. But
I’m tired of fighting it—you.
 I keep asking myself, how can I give you what you want?
Maybe the better question is, how can I not? I don’t want a
life without you and our son. Please, give me time. How
much, I don’t know. I don’t think you know what you’re
asking of me. It’s not just about my pride. It runs much
deeper than that. What if I find out I truly am the bastard
I’ve made myself out to be? Where would that leave us? I
can hardly stand the thought.
All I know now is that I love you. I long for the time when
there is nothing between us, both figuratively and literally. I
want to feel your warm skin against mine and breathe in
each breath you take. Until that time, I will relive in my mind
every human moment we have had together.
All my love,
Drake
I lay back against the bed, hardly able to catch my
breath after such a letter. I gripped the comforter, aching to
feel him lying there next to me. To be very human together.
I hoped with all that I was that he would find the strength to
face his demons, knowing he didn’t have to do it alone, if
only he would be vulnerable enough to let me help. Because
I didn’t want a life without him in it. I was ready to fight. I
had an idea of where to start—I just hoped Drake wouldn’t
be too furious about it. But a girl has to do what a girl has to
do.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twenty-Six
“Hello, is this Calvin Foster?” I gripped my cell phone
tightly, not believing I was actually doing this. It had taken
me a couple of days to work up the courage to do it once I’d
found his number. But seeing a photo of Marissa trying to
grope Drake at an LA eatery was quite motivating. Drake
had had a lot of explaining to do that night when he’d
called. And one day very soon, I was going to make him pay
for every single person who stopped me in the grocery store
to offer their condolences about said photo. By pay, I meant
back rubs and kisses.
“Who’s asking?” a gruff voice that sounded so very
similar to Drake’s responded.
“You don’t know me, but my name is Charlotte
Valentine.”
A deafening silence greeted me.
“Um, I’m your son’s—”
“I know who you are.”
“You do? How?”
He cleared his throat. “Why are you calling?” He was
just as curt as Drake could be at times, and just as great at
evading questions. Although, Drake was getting better.
“Well .  .  . you see, I love your son, and I’m hoping you
still love him too, because he could really use your help.”
“Drake never wanted my help,” he growled, yet I heard
the regret. “Goodb—”
“Wait,” I begged. “Please don’t hang up.”
 I was met with a long, heavy breath, but he didn’t hang
up.
“I know there is a lot of hurt to go around, and I won’t
pretend to know even the half of it, but this I do know: your
son needs you right now.”
“Is he sick or something?” Some worry crept into his
tone.
“Not physically, no. But he’s sick about what happened
between you. He blames himself for the demise of your
family. So much so, he’s scared to have one of his own.”
“Don’t you have a son together?”
“Yes.” I was intrigued by how he knew that. I took it as a
good sign—he was still interested in Drake’s life. I stood and
stared out one of the attic windows. There were still a
couple of reporters across the street. In front of the inn was
a car with a security guard inside, ever watching over us. It
was no wonder Calvin knew about Jameson and me. I felt
like my entire life was currently on display. I thought to ask
an interesting question. “Would you like to meet Jameson?”
He paused before he whispered, “Jameson.”
“I named him after your son.”
“The last thing Jameson,” he said his name reverently,
“wanted was to be my son.”
“I think you might be mistaken.”
“I wish I were. Are we done here?” he asked abruptly.
“I don’t want to be, but I understand if my call has been
painful for you. If so, I’m sorry.”
“It’s neither here nor there.”
 “I don’t believe that. And if you change your mind, the
offer stands for you to meet your grandson. Actually, we
don’t live too far from you. I’m renovating the Old Rock
Church Inn in Fair Hollow.”
“I’m familiar with the place,” he stammered. “Nora,” he
could hardly say her name, “and I stayed there once.”
I knew Nora was Drake’s mother’s name. “You did?
When?”
“I need to go.” He hung up.
I stood, dumbfounded, and stared at my phone. Drake’s
parents stayed here? What a bizarre coincidence. I had to
call George and see how far back they kept records. I knew
there were some old guest books around here somewhere. I
was buzzing with curiosity and something else I couldn’t
quite put my finger on, but I felt like it was my mission to
find out when they had stayed here.
I ran downstairs to tell Izzy before I called George, even
though she’d warned me not to try and force a father-and-
son reunion. I wasn’t trying to force one; I was just giving
them a little push. I knew she didn’t understand, but
Jameson and I needed Drake to figure this out. Jameson was
missing Drake something fierce. The daily phone calls
weren’t cutting it for him—or me. Even the private ones
Drake and I would have after Jameson would go to sleep,
where he would whisper things into the phone that made
me blush and the butterflies in my stomach would reenact
the “Do You Love Me” scene from Dirty Dancing. Which
reminded me, Izzy and I really needed to watch that movie
again.
I fanned myself, thinking of that yummy scene and
dancing with Drake like that. Come to think of it, Drake and I
were a lot like Johnny and Baby. Cute, perky girl lands the
most desirable man in the country club—make that the
world. How was that even possible? Believe me, I wasn’t the
only person asking. There were online forums trying to
answer that very question. For my sanity, I had to quit
reading any of them. Especially the ones where my dear
mother would get on and trash-talk anyone who dared to
mess with her baby. And believe me, there were plenty
willing to take their digs. One would think I had no
redeeming qualities. Or that the only qualities that mattered
to people were clothing choices and the size of their
breasts. Drake had reminded me that there were just as
many posts, or more, trashing people like Marissa. Which
honestly didn’t fill me with any delight, like I thought it
would have. It was a sad statement about our society. He’d
begged me not to listen to the trolls. With that said, we
might all need some therapy after this—or Valium.
I whipped around the spiral staircase to find George
walking in the front door. I stopped on the second step from
the bottom. “George, I was just going to call you.”
“I had a feeling.”
“Of course you did.” I smiled. Maybe George was Santa
Claus or something. He had excused himself early from
Christmas Eve dinner last year.
 Izzy came out of the bathroom nearest the dining hall.
She was installing the wainscot today. I should have been
helping her. I would feel guilty later.
“I have some interesting news to share.” I skipped the
last step and met George in the foyer.
Izzy followed, curious.
George leaned against the entryway table already
decorated for Valentine’s Day, complete with a chalkboard
sign with one of my favorite quotes by Judy Garland: “For it
was not into my ear you whispered, but into my heart. It
was not my lips you kissed, but my soul.” I could have said
those exact words to Drake. Along with the chalkboard sign
there were pink and red rustic wooden hearts and strings of
pearls and paper hearts. I was quite proud of it.
I stood next to George, in case I needed to hold him up.
Izzy stood nearby, flecks of sawdust in her gorgeous
tresses.
“What’s your news, girlie?” George wheezed out.
I gave Izzy a tentative glance before spilling the beans.
“Well . . . I just talked to Calvin Foster.”
Izzy groaned.
“I know, I know. He wasn’t all that thrilled with it either,
but . . .” I paused for dramatic effect. “He let it slip that he
stayed at the inn once with Drake’s mom. Can you believe
it?” I practically shouted.
Izzy’s eyes widened like she was mildly interested in this
news. But George, he flashed me his mischievous grin.
 “Did you know that, George?” I had to ask, given his
smile.
“It doesn’t surprise me,” was all he offered.
“Why not?” I had to know.
“This place calls to people.” He wagged his bushy white
brows.
“Do you know when they stayed here?”
“Hmmm,” he thought. “Let’s look in the old guest
books.”
I took note that he hadn’t said no. Did he really know or
was he pulling my leg, as he liked to say? And if he knew,
why hadn’t he said anything before? Regardless, we all set
off for the attic. Izzy and I helped George up both sets of
stairs. It was slow going, which made the excitement build
in me until I could almost burst. The thought of Drake’s
parents staying here felt meaningful. Like there was a
reason Drake and I got snowed in and created a beautiful
human being in this place. And why Drake felt the need to
come back here, not even knowing I owned it. There was
something magical about it all.
By the time we made it to the attic, George needed to
rest. Izzy and I deposited him in Daisy’s old rocking chair. It
was sweet to watch him glide his wrinkled and crinkled
hands over the arms, like he was trying to recapture how it
felt to touch his beloved wife.
I gave him a moment before I asked, “Where should we
look?”
 He thought for a second before pointing to a stack of
boxes against the back wall. “Check in those.”
Izzy and I went to work, each grabbing a box. I opened
mine to find a bunch of old receipts, but Izzy struck gold.
Several leather-bound guest books were neatly stacked in
hers. The only problem was, I didn’t know when they’d
stayed here. I had a rough estimate of how long they had
been married, but I had no idea at what point in their
relationship they had visited.
“I guess let’s start in the late seventies,” I suggested.
That was before George and Daisy owned the inn. And it
might have even been before his parents were married . . .
after all, that hadn’t stopped Drake and me from staying
here.
“I don’t know,” George said. “I would start in the mid-
nineties.” He flashed me his denture grin. That’s when
George and Daisy had bought the place.
I narrowed my eyes. “Listen, old man, if you remember
them, you need to confess right now,” I playfully
admonished him.
He held up his hands. “I’m innocent here.”
I wasn’t so sure about that. Regardless, Izzy and I began
flipping through the books that smelled like days gone by,
looking for dates in the nineties. We both sat cross-legged
and ran a finger down each page, looking for Calvin and
Nora Foster. Minute after minute we searched the yellowing
pages. I noticed an oddity next to a few of the names I had
come across.
 I held up the book I was looking at and pointed. “What
does the heart mean?” I asked George.
George, with that enigmatic smile of his, answered,
“Those were the special ones.”
“Special?” I questioned.
“Special like you and Drake,” he clarified.
“Soul mates,” I whispered.
Izzy scoffed.
George wagged his finger at Izzy. “You wait, dear one,
yours is coming.” He’d dubbed Izzy dear one because of her
heart of gold and her love for me and Jameson.
Izzy rolled her eyes. “I love you, George, but I’m not
holding my breath.”
George chuckled, but I knew he was sincere—which
gave me hope for Izzy, even if she didn’t believe. More and
more I was learning not to doubt George or this place. I
would believe for her.
Izzy and I went back to searching, and within a couple of
minutes Izzy was the victor once again. “I found them,” she
said reluctantly.
I tilted my head, noting her tone.
With hesitancy, she held up the book. An unmistakable
heart was next to the scribbled names of Nora and Calvin
Foster. I carefully reached for the book, unable to take my
eyes off their names and that heart. “They were soul
mates,” I whispered.
“Char, you don’t know that,” Izzy said flatly.
 I brushed their names with my fingers. “Yes, I do,” I
kindly countered. I didn’t know how I knew, or even how
George and Daisy knew, but I knew it, and it broke my
heart. Even more heartbreaking was the date. “This was the
year Drake turned seventeen. It’s the year his parents got
divorced. Why did they come here?” I lamented out loud.
Izzy reached over and grabbed my hand. “I suppose you
think you need to find out,” she said, half-exasperated, but
with love.
I gave her a crooked grin. “Of course, darling.”
She let out a long sigh.
George sighed along with her, but his was a content,
happy sigh. “My Daisy is happy.”
“How come?” I asked.
“Because she was never wrong about which couples
were meant to be. Now it’s time for you to work your magic,
girlie.”
My eyes widened. “I don’t have that kind of magic,” I
stuttered. “They’ve been divorced for years.”
“Like I’ve always told you, sometimes happily ever
afters take some time to work themselves out.”
“George,” I said, practically out of breath. “This would
take more than magic. This would require a miracle.”
“Miracles are just magic brought to life,” George said
simply.
“Oh, is that all?”

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Hello.”
“Hey,” I sighed. I loved the sound of his voice. “How are
you?” I curled up on a comfy chair in the parlor on my
“lunch” break.
“Better now.” He always said that when I called. And I’d
called quite a few times the last couple of days, trying to
find a way to tell him about his parents and that I had talked
to his dad. I was worried, though, how he would take all the
news. Especially the whole soul mate thing. He already felt
so guilty over the demise of his parents’ marriage.
“Did you get the results back from the analysis of your
kidney stone?” He’d finally passed it last week. Apparently,
it didn’t hurt coming out, just some minor discomfort, which
was, evilly, a bummer to me. I thought Drake should
experience the joys of giving birth.
“Not yet, but my doctor warned me about my caffeine
intake, if that makes you feel any better.”
“Only if you’re going to listen to him.”
“I’m thinking about it.”
“Think hard.” I laughed.
“How are you and Jameson?” He sounded melancholy.
“We’re good. Getting ready for all the big Valentine’s
Day events. Jameson is having a mini crisis. He doesn’t want
to give Lila a Valentine for fear she’ll kiss him. In fact, he
thinks Valentine cards are plain dumb.”
“Smart boy.”
 “Hey, just so you know, I expect a Valentine’s Day card
from you.”
“Duly noted.”
“I’m thinking something homemade and sparkly,” I
teased him.
He chuckled.
“By the way, you looked great last night on what’s his
name’s show.” All the talk show hosts were getting jumbled
in my head. I swore every night he was on one, answering
the same questions—How does it feel being a father? Does
this change your plans? Is it true you’re off the market now?
Tell us more about your mystery lady.
I don’t know how mysterious I was. There were pictures
of me online picking up dog poop and buying tampons. All
Drake would ever say about me is that he was happy to be
back in my life. I appreciated him keeping our relationship
as private as he could. And especially Jameson’s life. It was
already weird that he had security following him around,
even waiting outside his school every day. I mean, he
thought it was cool.
“Thanks.” He sounded tired.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I miss you, Charlotte.”
“I miss you too.”
“I didn’t think it would be this hard.”
“Should that offend me?” I teased, while sinking farther
into the chair. I was quite pleased this was hard for him.
 “I knew it would be hard,” he clarified, “but this feels
like hell.”
Hell? This was better than I thought. “Just remember
that for future reference, life without me is hell.”
“I’ve known that for a long time,” he admitted.
I rested my head on the arm of the chair. “So, what are
we going to do about that?”
“You’re working on Jameson’s and your passports,
right?”
“I submitted our applications and paid for expedited
shipping, but the lady at the post office wouldn’t give me
any guarantees as to when they would arrive. But I was
thinking more along the lines of you forgiving yourself and
healing from the wounds of your past.”
Silence reigned on his end.
“Drake, I need to tell you something.”
“That sounds ominous.” He didn’t sound pleased.
“I wouldn’t categorize it that way.”
“Have you come to your senses and want to leave me?”
he breathed out.
“No. Why would you think that?”
“Because, Charlotte, I’ve made your life a living hell
having reporters following you and making you doubt
yourself. And we both know what a prick I can be.”
“This is all true, but I love you. And our son needs you.”
“I do love it when he calls me Dad.”
I could hear the smile in his voice. And I remembered his
watery eyes when Jameson first called him that over
FaceTime, not long after Drake had left, which seemed like
an eternity ago instead of a couple of weeks.
“Speaking of dads, I want to talk to you about yours.”
“Charlotte,” he groaned. “Please don’t push this. I
promised you I would approach him when I was ready.”
I closed my eyes and scrunched my face. “I know, but
. . .”
“But what?” There was an edge to his voice.
“Are you ever going to be ready? I don’t know if you can
get ready for something like this,” I added.
“Can you just trust me?” I was clearly agitating him.
“I do trust you, but I also love you, and I don’t want you
to keep hurting any longer than you have to—so, I called
your dad,” I rushed to say.
“You did what?”
“I called your dad,” I stuttered.
In his silence I could hear him reining in a string of four-
letter words.
“Drake,” I whispered. “I know you’re angry with me, but
I’m okay with that because I know we’ll work it out—and
someday, when you’ve worked through what you need to,
we’re going to make up, and it’s going to be incredible. Like,
life changing,” I purred, trying to add a little levity. Although
I was serious, like a heart attack. I shivered, thinking about
making up with him.
“Now you’re playing dirty,” he said, as sexy as can be.
“I’m not playing,” I said back, just as sexily.
“Damn, Charlotte,” he groaned.
 “Now that you’re in the right frame of mind, you need to
know that your dad misses you.”
“He said that?” A childlike quality laced his words.
“He’s stubborn like you and didn’t say those exact
words, but he knew who I was. He knows about your life, or
at least what he can gather from outside sources. And
there’s something else.” I swallowed hard.
“What?” he was hesitant to ask.
“Drake, your parents stayed at the inn.”
“When? I don’t remember my parents taking any trips.
My dad never left the farm.” He still sounded bitter about it.
“When you were seventeen. It was just for one night.
But they were here, and they stayed in the honeymoon
suite.”
“We slept in the same bed as my parents?” The thought
seemed to mortify him.
“I doubt it was the same mattress, but that’s not really
the most important thing here.”
“Why does it matter if they stayed there?”
“Because, Drake, it says your dad was trying and that
he loved your family. And . . . Daisy put a heart next to their
name.”
“A heart?” He was obviously confused.
I was both eager and hesitant to fill him in. “It meant
she thought they were special, like us.”
“Charlotte, I love you, but what the hell are you talking
about?”
 “Well, since you love me,” I said snippily, “I guess I’ll
explain.”
“I’m sorry for being grumpy. This is difficult for me.”
“I know that.” I softened my tone. “And I’m sorry. It’s
just, I’m anxious to get on with our lives. But I know we
can’t until you resolve your past.”
“Charlotte, I want to be with you and Jameson more
than anything, so tell me about the hearts. Please,” he
added.
“I think you just want to make up with me,” I teased.
“More than you know,” he crooned.
I cleared my throat and shook off the shiver. “Well,” I
said soprano-style, feeling like I might need a cold shower.
“Uh, hearts.” I was having a hard time focusing. All I could
think about was being in Drake’s arms. “A heart was for soul
mates.”
“Soul mates? My parents were like night and day.”
“That’s not always a bad thing.”
“It didn’t seem to work well for them.”
“But you weren’t there when they fell in love. Do you
know how they met?” I had a million questions.
“I’m afraid to tell you.”
I popped up in my chair. “Why?”
“Because I’m afraid it will lend credence to your wild
theory.”
“That good, huh? Tell me,” I demanded in my scary
voice. I got a laugh out of him at least.
 “My mom hadn’t been divorced long and she was
visiting some friends in Boise, trying to clear her head. She
never could drive well in the snow, and she got stuck in a
snowbank. My dad happened to be driving through and
rescued her.” He hesitated.
“Oh. That’s romantic. So, was it love at first sight?”
“Yes,” he mumbled. “Or that’s what my mom said
anyway.”
“For someone who knows how to be extremely romantic,
you’re being awfully cynical.”
“You’re the only woman I’ve been with who would
consider me romantic. I have a reputation for being a cold
lover,” he admitted.
I didn’t like to think of him with other women in that
way, but . . . “I have never felt more wanted and cherished
than when I was with you.”
“You are the only woman I have ever cherished. I know
that makes me sound like a cad, but it’s true. I hope to
teach our son to be a better man than me.”
“Drake, you are a good man. But yes, let’s teach our son
to give more than he receives and never take anything that
doesn’t belong to him. And to only be with women he loves
and values. You know, like when he’s thirty-five.”
Drake laughed. “I don’t think you’ll be so lucky. But”—
his tone turned more serious—“I know how lucky I am.”
I got a bit choked up while my heart pitter-pattered.
“See, totally romantic.”
“Plan on a lifetime of romance.”
 “Really?” my voice hitched.
“Yes.”
“Does that mean you’ll call your dad?”
He paused, and paused, and paused some more. “Okay,
Charlotte,” he breathed out. “You are the most infuriating
woman I know.”
I smiled to myself. “I will take that as a compliment. And
just remember what I have in store for you when you forgive
me.”
“Mmm. I love you,” he groaned with desire.
“I love you too. I’m proud of you. When you talk to your
dad, don’t be afraid of the truth. Also, can I get your mom’s
number?”
“Goodbye, Charlotte.”
“Hey, wait. I’m just trying to help.”
“Goodbye, Charlotte. I love you.” He hung up before I
had time to weasel that number out of him. I mean, I could
use the same ploy I had used to get his dad’s number. The
private security team Drake had hired to “protect” us was
useful in more ways than one. They had connections to all
sorts of fun information.
But . . . maybe this time I needed to stand back and let
fate do its thing. Perhaps Drake calling his dad would work
its own magic. Hopefully, that magic would lead him back
here, to me and our son. The sooner the better.

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 Chapter Twenty-Eight
We were T minus three days until the Valentine’s Day
ball. The downstairs guest bathrooms were all finished, and
the galley was in pristine order, ready to handle the catering
staff for the evening. And all the hearts had been cut out
and strung. I had the paper cuts to prove it. We were just
waiting to string them up, as George had a habit of popping
in and we wanted him to be surprised that night. But we
could no longer wait, so today was the day.
Drake was in New York to do a few interviews before he
flew to the UK. He’d talked to his dad, but nothing earth-
shattering had happened. I don’t know what I was
expecting. A chorus of “Kumbaya” and the reunion of a
lifetime? I forgot I was dealing with men who barely knew
how to finish a thought at times. More like refused to. Drake
was obviously articulate, given his career. And lately I’d
watched him do interview after interview. He was more than
capable of completing sentences. I’d offered to be a
mediator, or facilitator, anything. I just wanted them to work
it out. I wanted Drake to be able to forgive himself. And if
possible, I wanted to arrange a reunion between Calvin and
Nora. Was it bold? Sure. But true love was on the line. Mine
and theirs.
As crazy as it sounded, I kept feeling like Daisy was
egging me on. I didn’t tell Izzy this, as she already thought I
was nuts. A lovable nut, she would say. But that was
because she wasn’t willing to let go and let the magic of the
inn work its way into her beautiful soul. Someday, though. I
had hope.
I climbed up the scaffolding we’d rented to string the
hearts across the ballroom.
“Be careful,” Izzy warned from below.
“Don’t worry, I won’t break my neck. I know how badly
you want to wring it.”
“Ha-ha,” she said flatly. “I’ll have you know, I’ve come to
terms with your choice.”
I snort-laughed. “You are such a liar.”
“I’m being one hundred percent honest. For Jameson’s
sake, I’ve decided to call a truce with Drake.”
I stared down at her from the top rung. “Oh, for
Jameson. Gee, thanks, sis.”
She shrugged. “I do what I can.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’ll take what I can get. And who
knows how it all will end.”
“Oh, please, with how disgustingly smoochy you two are
on the phone, I’m sure Drake will do whatever it takes to . . .
well . . . you know.”
“No, I don’t know.” I grinned. “What are you trying to
say, dear Izzy? Besides the fact you’ve been
eavesdropping.”
“I wasn’t eavesdropping—it’s just that your voice
projects. You should probably keep that in mind. You have a
child. And by the sounds of it, you’ll be having more soon.”
I rubbed my abdomen. I would love nothing more than
to have another baby with Drake. “Does it bother you, Izzy?
I know how badly you want one of your own. You know, I
would be a surrogate for you, if you wanted.”
Her eyes went all misty. “Thanks, Char. I love you for it,
but you just keep having your own babies and I’ll love on
them. I don’t begrudge you that blessing at all.” She wiped
her eyes before any tears fell.
“Even if they’re Drake’s babies?”
“Even if they’re his.” She gave me a crooked grin before
looking up at the ceiling. “You really should have let me
charge him for staying here. I wanted you to have the
chandelier for the ball.”
I climbed onto the working platform. “No. That’s a
dream for us. Not Drake.”
She thought about that, then nodded. “You’re right.”
“What?” I slapped a hand across my chest. “I’m right
about something?” I teased.
“You’ve been right about a lot, but you didn’t hear that
from me.” She winked. “I’m proud of you, Char. And we will
work together and get that chandelier. But please, for the
love, let your rich boyfriend pay a painter to finish what we
have left upstairs. If I have to paint one more room, I might
lose my ish.”
“Well, I would hate for you to lose your ish.” I giggled.
“Whatever that is, it sounds important.”
“Believe me, it is, and you won’t want to see me lose it.”
“Okay, fine, I’ll let Drake hire a painter. He’ll be thrilled.”
He’d been begging me to let him do something, especially
pay child support. I guess I could accept painting support.
 “Now that we have that settled, get to work.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I saluted her.
I had barely gotten three hooks installed before
someone knocked on the door. Izzy gave me an inquisitive
glance from below. “Are we expecting a contractor today?”
Fiona barked and charged the door to viciously lick to
death whoever was knocking.
“No. And George would walk right in,” I yelled above
Fiona’s barking.
“Don’t fall. I’ll be right back.” She flitted toward the door
in perfect Audrey Hepburn fashion.
I sat on the platform, my legs dangling off the edge. I
admired our handiwork for the ball. We’d set up the food
tables yesterday. The ruffled lacy tablecloths were to die for.
We were having dozens of roses delivered on Friday to make
bouquets. Fairy lights and hearts abounded. It was all so
darling. Just how Daisy would have wanted it. My only wish
was that Drake could be here for it. Sure, Jameson was a
great little dancer and the cutest kid around, but I longed for
his dad’s arms.
I heard Izzy quiet Fiona before opening the door and
saying, “Hello.”
A timid female voice I didn’t recognize responded,
“Hello, I’m looking for Charlotte Valentine.”
If it was another reporter, I was going to lose my ish,
whatever that was. And have Drake fire the security guy on
duty. He’s supposed to vet whoever comes to call. I was
more irked because I hadn’t seen any sign of a reporter in
three days. I’d assumed the novelty had worn off, given I’m
a hugely boring person, other than the fact that I gave birth
to a megastar’s child. I was excited to have life go back to
normal and not have an audience when I bought tampons—
or a vat of chocolate ice cream.
“Who are you?” Izzy snarled. She was more than tired of
all the looky-loos. Although, she had enjoyed flipping them
the bird and seeing if she could get her car to spray them
with slushy snow.
The woman didn’t answer right away. Any second now
Izzy was going to lose her ish and slam the door. I waited
and waited but then heard the woman say, “I’m Nora
Foster.”
It was a good thing I was sitting down on the platform or
I may have plunged to my death. I gripped the railing,
wondering why Drake’s mother was here. Did Drake know?
Surely, he would have given me a heads-up. If not, we were
going to have some serious words.
“I’m Drake’s mother,” she clarified.
“Come in,” Izzy rushed to say.
I looked down at my yoga pants and oversized red
sweater. It wasn’t meet-your-boyfriend’s-mother
appropriate, but I had looked worse. There were plenty of
photos out there to prove it. I braced myself for the
inevitable face to face I was about to have. I probably
should have climbed down, but I felt safer up on the
scaffolding. All I knew of this woman was that Drake said
she had become cold and bitter. Yet, her voice sounded soft
and gentle. But maybe that was a ruse to get in the door. Or
maybe it wasn’t really Nora at all—maybe it was a clever
reporter.
Izzy appeared with the woman in question, and it was
immediately obvious she was Drake’s mother. Even from my
vantage point, Nora’s eyes—the same eyes that she had
clearly gifted to her son—grabbed hold of me. Eyes that
were dimmed by time and circumstances, I would wager to
guess.
I said nothing at first. I took time to observe the tall
woman with a willowy figure and silver bobbed hair. She was
dressed simply in a camel wool coat and black slacks with a
cream sweater. She exuded grace, but there was something
stoic about her demeanor. She was studying me in much the
same manner I was studying her. I wondered if she, like so
many, thought Drake could do better. Perhaps she, too,
thought I looked more like a child than a woman.
“Char, this is Nora Foster,” Izzy interrupted my study of
Drake’s mother.
“Hello,” I managed to get out.
“I’m sorry to show up unannounced, but I need to speak
to you.” She looked around the ballroom. “I needed to come
to this place.” Her voice shook.
That I could understand. This placed called to me in
inexplicable ways. How odd that Drake’s mother felt the
same pull. It had to mean something, right?
“I’ll come down.”
 Izzy stared wide-eyed at me as I started my descent.
She was silently saying, What the heck? Well, she was
probably using another four-letter word.
I felt the same way. My heart was about to break free of
my chest as I made my way down the scaffolding on shaky
legs. I was grateful Jameson was at school. I desperately
wanted to call Drake, but he was probably rushing to the
airport right about now.
“I’ll go make some coffee,” Izzy offered.
“That would be lovely. Thank you,” Nora said.
I wanted to beg Izzy to stay but knew Nora probably
wanted to have a private conversation.
I cautiously approached. “We can sit in the parlor, if you
would like.”
She nodded gratefully.
“I can take your coat for you.”
She fluidly removed it and handed it to me. “Thank
you.”
I was hit with the smell of gardenias as we headed
across the hall to the parlor. I hung her coat on the coatrack
on our way.
“Please have a seat.” I waved my hand toward the
furniture.
She took my favorite comfy chair near the fire. I sat
opposite her on the couch. I fidgeted in my seat and wrung
my hands, not knowing what to say. She, too, seemed to be
gathering her words as she looked around my beloved
place.
 “You’ve updated the inn,” she commented.
“We’re working on it.”
“It looks lovely.”
“Thank you.”
“I was shocked when Drake told me you own the place
now.”
“You’ve talked to Drake? Does he know you’re here?”
The next time I saw him, I was going to wring his neck for
not telling me. You know, after I kissed him until there was
no breath left in me.
“We briefly talked. We aren’t exactly the best when it
comes to communicating,” she strained to say. “He doesn’t
know I’m here. I didn’t even know I was going to come here.
That probably sounds crazy.”
“It doesn’t.” I smiled. “This place has a way of calling to
people.”
She clasped her hands and rested them in her lap. “Yes,
it does. I’ve thought of this place so often over the years.”
Obviously, Drake must have mentioned that I knew she’d
stayed here.
“It’s a special place.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “A place of hope, or at least I
thought it was,” she choked out.
Oh man, I wanted to be so nosy and ask all the
questions about her and Calvin. About their family. And, you
know, could she make her son feel better so I could get my
mostly happily ever after?
 “It is a place of hope. Sometimes that hope just requires
a lot of faith.”
“I’m afraid I lost my faith a long time ago. But I didn’t
come here to talk about me.”
That was too bad, because that’s all I wanted to talk
about. “Why did you come?”
“Well . . . ,” she seemed hesitant to say. “I was hoping to
meet my grandson,” her voice hitched, “and the woman
who has obviously had an incredible impact on my son.”
“I don’t know about that .  .  . I mean, unless you’re
talking about someone other than me.”
She laughed a muted laugh. I got the vibe that she was
reserved, or perhaps hadn’t laughed in a long time.
“You have, without a doubt, affected my son. I hardly
recognized him in this last round of interviews he’s done.”
“I would say that’s mostly Jameson.”
“Jameson,” she whispered, her voice shaking.
“I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“It’s a pain that never goes away. So much lost time I
will never have back.” Her eyes watered.
“You don’t have to lose any more time with Drake . . . or
Jameson. I would like you to meet him, be a part of his life.”
She fiddled with her hands. “I don’t know if Drake would
like that.”
“I know he would. You don’t know how guilty he feels for
what happened to your family. He blames himself for
destroying your marriage.”
 She sat back in her chair, as if she were exhausted and
needed respite. “For a long time, I did blame him and
Jameson,” she sheepishly admitted.
I tried to keep my facial expressions to myself but surely
failed. I was stunned by her admission, to say the least.
“It’s a harsh thing to say, I know. But after Jameson
died, I realized it was Cal and I that gave up on our
marriage. When he told us to leave, I think he needed me to
choose to stay. And when I left, I needed him to chase after
me. Neither of us got our wish. We chose not to fight for our
family.” She looked up to the ceiling, trying to avoid my
gaze. “But I was so tired of the fighting.” She dabbed the
corner of her eye.
I grabbed a tissue from a box on the side table nearby
and handed it to her.
She took it, still not meeting my eyes. “I’m sorry, I don’t
know what’s come over me. You don’t know me, and I’m
sure you don’t want to listen to the ramblings of an old
woman.”
Well, if that’s what old looked like, sign me up. She was
probably close to seventy but could pass for her mid-fifties. I
needed to find out what moisturizer she used. Maybe later.
“On the contrary, I would very much love to hear anything
you have to say.”
“I’m sure Drake has painted a bleak picture of his
childhood.” She held the tissue up to her cheek.
“Actually, he has some very fond memories. I think you
would be surprised how his perspective has changed too.”
 Her eyes lit up with a bit of hope. “It wasn’t an easy
situation for any of us,” she lamented.
I leaned forward, giving her my full attention, hoping
she would spill her guts.
“A city girl and a farm boy,” she continued, “may be
romantic in books and on TV, but life isn’t a fairy tale with a
made-up script. Neither one of us had any idea what we
were signing up for.” She gave a weak smile.
“I’m not sure anyone knows what they’re getting at the
start of most relationships.” I grinned.
“That’s probably true. Unfortunately, Cal and I were
polar opposites. And .  .  . I came with a child and a lot of
baggage from my first marriage.”
“Children make dating interesting, even when you’re
dating their dad,” I added my two cents.
“How do Jameson and Drake get along?” She was
curious to know.
“Very well. They talk every day. Drake can be
surprisingly animated with Jameson. And only Drake can
read him bedtime stories now, because apparently, he does
the voices better than me.”
Nora smiled. “I’m happy to hear that. I never thought I
would see the day that either one of my boys would become
fathers. They hated Cal so much,” she sighed.
“You know Drake called him recently?”
Her brow raised. “He’s never mentioned it. Do you know
how it went?”
 “Well, I imagine it was a lot of dead air. Neither of them
is the best communicator, as far as I can tell.”
“You’ve talked to Cal?”
“Yes. I have a bad habit of trying to fix things. Or at
least trying to help Drake.”
“He’s lucky to have you.”
“I mean, I think so.” I laughed. “I’m lucky, too, which is
why I’d like to keep him. But he really needs to sort out his
past. He feels like he doesn’t deserve a family or marriage.”
She clutched the tissue. “I didn’t know he felt that way. I
never meant for him to.”
“You all really need to talk.”
She hung her head and let out a heavy breath. “We do.”
“Now that that’s settled, I want to get to know you—
because someday I plan on marrying your son.”

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twenty-Nine
It was a surreal moment, watching Jameson talk to his
grandma at the table over cookies and milk after school.
Thankfully, he took it all in stride. It had to be weird for him
to have so many new relatives show up in his life. It
probably had something to do with the fact that he thought
he might get a second dog out of it. That was a no go. It
also didn’t hurt that he loved to talk about himself. Jameson
was filling Nora in on every person he went to school with,
and how good he was at reading, writing, drawing—and
pretty much everything else.
Nora smiled and listened intently to every word. It was
like she was soaking in a miracle.
I so badly wanted to talk to Drake, but I figured he was
in the air. I was surprised he hadn’t called me before he
boarded his flight. Little did he know, I was in the middle of
a major plot twist. I had so much to tell him. Nora had
opened up to me some more throughout the day over
coffee, and while helping Izzy and I string hearts across the
ballroom.
She’d spoken of her difficult first marriage to an
alcoholic who was constantly gaslighting her and emptying
out their bank account. She was pretty broken when she
was rescued by Calvin. And yep, it was a love-at-first-sight
sort of thing. Apparently, Drake is the spitting image of his
dad. Poor woman had no hope of not falling for him. To her,
Calvin was a stable influence. A hardworking man who was
rough around the edges but tried to give Nora and his sons
what he could. She spoke of tender moments, like when he
would take her on picnics and bring home wildflower
bouquets he had picked himself.
But it all came with its troubles. Nora wasn’t used to the
back-breaking work farm life required, and Jameson
resented Calvin for trying to love him. And like Drake had
said, Jameson was stuck between two worlds and he idolized
city life. And Drake idolized Jameson. The feeling was
mutual, according to Nora. Jameson loved his little brother.
He thought of himself as his protector and would get in
between Calvin and Drake anytime Calvin tried to discipline
Drake or offer correction. Nora was exhausted by all the
fighting. It’s all she knew in her first marriage. She couldn’t
stand it anymore and thought leaving would bring everyone
peace. She realizes now, no one was at peace about it. It’s
funny how sometimes you have to be willing to wage a war
before you can have peace. She regrets not fighting harder.
I asked why they had come to the inn. With tears in her
eyes, she said it was Calvin’s attempt to show her how
much he loved her. She said he never took any time off, but
he’d surprised her with a one-night stay here. I didn’t ask for
any gory details, but the blush in her cheeks said it all. That,
and the way she kept running her fingers over the walls as
she’d walked around my beloved place. It was as if she were
trying to recapture the night she’d spent here. I had done
the same thing the first time I had come back to visit
George.
 Jameson stretched his arms up high. “When I’m this big,
my dad said I can drive all his cool cars. And maybe blow
something up in one of his movies.”
Nora laughed and reached out to touch his curls. She
looked about as enthralled with those babies as me. I bet
Calvin had curls.
I stood up from the table. “Before you blow anything up,
you need to feed Fiona.”
Jameson jumped up. “I’ll be right back,” he told his
grandma. “Don’t move, because I’m going to tell you all
about the time machine I’m going to build so I can go back
and see the dinosaurs.” He ran off.
Nora smiled after him. “He’s so full of energy. He
reminds me so much of Drake.”
“It’s hard to see Drake as anything but moody. I mean,
definitely lovable—but oh so broody.”
Nora nodded. “He became that way after we moved to
Seattle. I think, deep down, he, too, wanted his dad to stop
us from leaving.”
I bit my lip. “You know, Calvin came to his first play.”
Nora’s jaw dropped. “I never saw him.”
“Drake did. He didn’t want you to know.”
“Oh, Calvin,” she breathed out. “Stubborn fool. Like I’m
one to talk. I was absolutely miserable in Seattle, but my
pride and heart had been wounded. I refused to go crawling
back home. A home I realized how much I missed, even if it
was small and drafty in the winter and hot during the
summer. Calvin had made me a cute window seat in our
bedroom where I could read and watch the boys play in the
backyard.” Her chest rose and fell.
“That’s sweet.”
“It was. But I always wanted more—better than what we
had. You could say I had been born with a silver spoon in my
mouth. But there are things money can’t buy, and I realized
that too late.”
I reached across the table and patted her slender,
elegant hand. “I don’t think it’s ever too late. Drake and I
are a testament to that. At least I hope so.”
“I hope so, too. When I hear Drake talk during
interviews, he’s a different person now. I see the little boy
who used to sit on his dad’s lap and tell him he wanted to
be a farmer when he grew up.”
“I don’t think Drake remembers that.”
“Probably not. He was quite young, and unfortunately I
let Jameson turn Drake against Calvin.”
I tilted my head.
“I didn’t encourage it,” she added, “but I didn’t do all I
could to stop it either. I was so afraid Jameson would leave
me to go live with his biological dad’s family.” Her voice
filled with emotion. “I never wanted to rock the boat with
Jameson. Instead, I sunk our family’s ship.” She sank into
her chair as if the weight of the world had fallen on her.
“I’m a big believer in lifeboats.”
She gave me a half-smile. “No wonder Drake is different
now. You, my dear, are a breath of fresh air.”
“I’m just trying to save my own family.”
 Nora sat up tall. “Count me in.”
That’s what I wanted to hear.
~*~
“What a weird day.” Izzy snuggled under her covers.
I was already lying in bed, so I propped my head on my
hand to face her. “So bizarre. Can you believe Drake’s mom
is sleeping upstairs?” Not in the honeymoon suite. That
would just be plain weird.
“You’re sure she’s not a psycho, right?” Izzy grinned.
“I would have hoped Drake would’ve mentioned that.
And in his line of work, it would be hard to keep it a secret if
his mom had gone to jail or something.” But just in case, I
had locked our suite up tight. I mean, you could never be
too careful.
“That’s true.”
“I just hope Drake’s not lying dead somewhere in
London. I can’t believe he hasn’t called me.”
“You should probably break up with him.” Izzy grinned
evilly.
“I thought you were going to be supportive.”
“I am. If the jerk didn’t call you, this is me supporting
you.”
I tossed a throw pillow at her.
She caught it and laughed. “I’m sure he just got busy or
the time difference threw him off. Jet lag is a real thing.”
“Yeah.” I snuggled down under my comforter, exhausted
as always. Motherhood and business ownership zapped all
my energy. Whether or not Drake was dead, I needed to
sleep. “Good night, Izzy. Thanks for going on this crazy
adventure with me.”
“Good night, Char. Thanks for talking me into it.” She
turned off the lamp.
As tired as I was, it was hard to turn my brain off after
such a crazy day. And I really was worried about Drake. He
hadn’t changed his mind about us, had he? Maybe he was
tired of all my pushing. Which meant he wasn’t going to be
happy about our guest. Except he should be, because his
mom wanted to reconcile. I assumed Jameson had
something to do with that. Kids can work wonders. While my
brain batted around all the worst-case scenarios the
darkness seemed to bring out, I eventually drifted off to
sleep. For how long, I didn’t know, but not long enough.
I woke up to an annoying buzzing sound and bright light.
I opened my eyes to see my phone lighting up on the
nightstand. I scrambled to grab it before it woke up Izzy. I
briefly saw Drake’s name before I clicked the green button.
“Hello,” I whispered.
“Charlotte, I’m sorry to wake you.”
I climbed out of bed and hurried out into the hall.
“That’s all right. Are you okay? I’ve been worried.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t call. I had a change of plans.”
“Oh.”
“Do you think you could open the door for me? It’s
freezing out here.”
It took me a second to comprehend what he was saying,
but when I did, the butterflies went ballistic. Dance party for
everyone. “Oh my gosh, you’re here!” I squealed like a
preteen at my first slumber party.
“See you in a second.” He hung up.
I raced down the hallway of our little space, undid all the
locks, and sprinted toward the front door. There Drake
stood, through the window of the front door, in all his
beautifulness. Unfortunately, I had the added step of turning
off the state-of-the-art alarm system Drake had insisted be
installed—and that I had even let him pay for—before I
could get to him. My brain was on such an adrenaline
overload, it took me a second to remember the code.
Meanwhile, Drake smiled at me sexily. I seriously needed to
get my hands on him.
As soon as I got it together and opened the door, Drake
wasted not a second and swept me up into his arms. I didn’t
care if he was freezing—it warmed my insides until they
were having a meltdown.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and admired his
stubbled cheeks and tired, but alive, eyes. “What are you
doing here?”
“Your Valentine’s Day card was going to be late, so I
thought I better hand deliver it.”
“That’s the sexiest thing you have ever said to me.”
“That’s a little disappointing, Charlotte. I thought for
sure I’ve done better than that.” He flashed me a wicked
grin.
I thought of some sexier conversations. Oh, baby. That’s
how we got a baby. I jumped up, wrapped my legs around
him, and pressed my lips to his. He wasted no time diving
right in. It had been too long since we’d touched. Within
seconds, he’d demolished any semblance of the bun in my
hair. But it was over all too quickly. His lips glided right off
mine.
“Hey, I wasn’t done yet,” I complained.
“Neither was I.” He nipped at my lower lip. “But, I’m not
exactly alone.”
“Did a reporter follow you?” Great, now me accosting
Drake in my striped nightshirt was going to be in some slimy
rag of a paper or a hundred online media outlets.
“It’s not a reporter.”
I looked through the doorway behind him. “Who is it?”
“My dad.”
I slid down Drake’s tall frame, stunned. “Uh . . .”
“He’s waiting out in the SUV; I wanted to give you a
heads-up first.”
I blinked and blinked, not believing this was happening.
“Wow. How did this come about?”
He took my hand and brought it to his mouth. His
sensuous lips skimmed my skin. “I’m tired as hell of being
away from you and Jameson. And I don’t want anything to
stand in the way of us being together. So, I thought I’d
better get my act together and do what I should have done
a long time ago.”
I wrapped my arms around him and snuggled into his
cashmere coat. “So, you brought your dad here to what,
duke it out?”
 “If we have to. We haven’t said much to each other for
the last five hours in the car, but he came.”
“And you went and picked him up. That says
something.”
“It took some convincing on my part to get him in the
car.”
“When did you decide to do this?”
“On my way to the airport I kept thinking, what the hell
am I doing? Do I really need to attend another awards
show? I should be home with my kid and my sexy
girlfriend.” He leaned away to give his eyes the opportunity
to rove over me.
I was so, so in love with him right now. “Yeah, I’m
winning all the beauty awards over here in my nightshirt.”
“I like nightshirts—they show a lot of skin.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re such a guy.”
“A guy who’s in love with you.”
I was getting all sorts of verklempt, but then I
remembered a little something. Or a big something. “Drake,
I love you. So much. But I need to tell you something.”
He arched his brow.
I took his hand. “Honey .  .  . baby,” I sang. “Uh, your
mom’s here.”
He gave me a blank stare.
“Did you hear me?”
“I heard you, but that can’t be.”
“Oh, I assure you, it’s true.”
“Did you invite her here?” he accused me.
 “I’m going to forgive you for that tone since you just
flew across the country to be with me, but the answer is no,
I didn’t invite her. Not to say I wouldn’t . . .” I smirked.
He shook his head. “I’m sorry, that came out harsher
than I intended. I just can’t believe it. What is she doing
here?”
“Well, believe it or not, this place was calling to her—
and her grandson happens to live here. She’s pretty
grandma-happy.”
“My mom doesn’t get happy anymore.”
“Wrong again.” I tapped his nose.
He ran a hand through his hair. “What are we going to
do? My dad is here.”
I thought for a second. What would Daisy do in this
situation? The answer was obvious. “I don’t think it’s any
coincidence they are both here, so we are going to let fate
run its course and stay out of its way.”
He let out a huge breath. “Charlotte, I haven’t been
around both of my parents since I was seventeen.” I’d never
heard him sound so unsure, perhaps even scared.
I stood on my tiptoes and placed my hands on his
cheeks. “I’m going to be by your side the entire time. I
promise you it’s going to be okay. Better than okay, even.
And when it’s all said and done, you’re going to forgive me,
and I’m going to forgive you, and then we’re going to make
up.” I brushed his lips with my own.
“I think I’m ready to make up now,” he groaned.
 I placed a finger on his lips. “Not yet, lover boy. Talk to
your parents first. Work out what you need to. I’m not going
anywhere.”
He leaned his forehead against mine. “I love you,
Charlotte.”
“I know.”

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Thirty
“Dad! You’re here!” Jameson ran into the dining hall
where Drake sat, downing copious amounts of coffee. It was
definitely going to be a five-cup day for me. But well worth
it. My lips were still swollen from last night’s welcome-home
extravaganza.
Drake popped up like he wasn’t tired at all—or stressed
that his parents could come down at any moment. Neither
of them knew the other was here. We kind of thought we
should keep it a surprise, seeing as Calvin had been a bear
about coming with Drake in the first place. He was worried
his animals wouldn’t be properly taken care of by his
farmhand—more like he feared being human, just like
someone else I know. And we didn’t see any sense in waking
Nora to tell her. I mean, it was rude to wake people up in the
middle of the night, unless you planned on kissing them
breathless ’til dawn’s early light. That was acceptable.
Jameson ran into Drake’s open arms.
Drake wrapped him up tight. “I missed you, son.”
Those words choked me up more than any others. I
stood and watched the beautiful scene before me, wishing
Drake could have the same kind of reunion with his parents.
I thought about his rough-and-tumble dad the night before. I
wasn’t sure Calvin was a hugger or had hugged anyone in
the last twenty-plus years. He was more like an angry
lumberjack with thinning gray hair. Still handsome, though,
like a Sam Elliott. He’d only said a few words to me before
we showed him to his room. Like Nora, he acted as if he
were in a sacred place, lightly treading and looking around
in wonder.
“I missed you, Dad. Can I stay home from school since
you’re here?” This kid was always looking for the angle. I
loved him for it. It showed good life skills.
Drake employed the WWCT rule and looked at me to
answer. Good man.
“Honey, your dad has some things he needs to take care
of today. How about we let you stay home tomorrow?”
Things like trying to come to terms with his past so we could
all have a future together. Not like I expected that to all get
accomplished today, but any forward movement on that
path was one step closer to where we needed to be.
Jameson scrunched his face at me. “Tomorrow’s my
Valentine’s Day party at school.”
“Good point.” And I had to take cupcakes, which I could
do even if he didn’t go to school. “I guess you really want to
give Lila her Valentine,” I teased.
“Ew. No. I’ll skip tomorrow,” he decided awfully quick.
Drake chuckled, wrapping his son up again, like he
never wanted to let go. “You can choose what we do
tomorrow.”
Jameson’s eyes lit up, but before he could give Drake his
master plan, Nora walked in. She was dressed in dark slacks
and a sweater, her hair meticulously straightened—so very
elegant. And so very, very surprised. She held on to the
doorframe and stared at her son with bulging eyes.
 “Drake, I wasn’t expecting to see you,” she stuttered
out.
Drake stood but kept an arm around Jameson. He shot
me a smile before he answered, “I missed Charlotte and
Jameson.”
Nora smiled and nodded, pleased by his response.
“Dad, did you know you had a mom?” Jameson pointed
at Nora.
The adults broke out in fits of laughter. Although, it
made me feel guilty that Jameson thought it was normal to
have unknown parents pop up in your life.
“Yes.” Drake ruffled his hair. “I have a dad too.” He
swallowed hard, his chest deeply rising and falling. “He’s
upstairs.”
Nora paled and faltered. Thankfully, she caught herself
before she fell.
I moved closer to her, fearing her knees might buckle.
“I didn’t know you would be here, Mom,” Drake
explained.
“I have a grandpa upstairs?” Jameson mused.
“Yes. Isn’t that fun?” I tried to add some levity.
“Did he bring me a present, like Papa always does?”
There went my kid, looking for the angle again. My dad did
love to spoil Jameson.
“Not this time,” Drake answered. “But he does want to
meet you.”
Nora started fanning herself, flustered. “Does he know
I’m here?” She could barely speak.
 Drake and I shook our heads.
“I should go.” She looked around like she didn’t know
what to do.
Drake stepped toward her. “Please don’t. I would like to
speak to both of you.”
“I can’t see your father.” She was almost in tears. “It’s
been too long. He hates me.”
“No,” Drake was quick to say. “He doesn’t. If anyone
deserves to be hated in this situation, it’s me.” His voice
broke.
“Dad.” Jameson tugged on Drake’s hand. “I love you.”
It was the first time Jameson had expressed that
sentiment to Drake.
The room got quiet.
Drake fell to his knees, coming eye to eye with his son.
An expression of awe washed over his face. He rested his
large hand on Jameson’s cheek, encompassing his entire
face. “I love you, Jameson.” Tears filled his eyes.
Meanwhile, Nora and I both had tears streaming down
our faces.
“I’ll stay,” Nora whispered.
Jameson wrapped his tiny arms around Drake’s neck. “I
want you to stay with me.”
Drake held him tight. “I’ll work it out.”
I clutched my heart.
Izzy sauntered in, ready for the day, and looked around
nervously at all the emotion. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes!” Jameson shouted. “My dad’s going to live here.”
 Izzy’s jaw dropped before she flashed me a what-the-
heck look. Or was that I-hate-your-guts-right-now? One
couldn’t tell.
“We’ll talk about details later,” I tried to placate Izzy.
“We better eat breakfast and get you ready for school, J
man.” I was afraid Izzy might go ballistic if any other life-
changing news was thrown at her. Inside, though, I was
doing my happy dance. I so badly wanted to throw myself in
Drake’s arms and have a repeat of last night’s homecoming.
Drake stood. “Let’s help your mom.”
Nora took a seat, looking like she might need some
smelling salts.
Izzy sidled up next to me and talked out the side of her
mouth. “Have the parents seen each other yet?”
I had filled Izzy in once she’d woken up this morning.
While she wasn’t all that thrilled that Drake had returned,
she was deviously excited to see how Drake’s parents were
going to react. I think her words had been, “This is going to
be delicious.” I wasn’t sure about that. I was on pins and
needles about it. It had been a horrendously difficult thing
for me to face Drake after so many years. I couldn’t even
imagine how Nora was feeling right now.
I was glad to see Drake give her shoulders a squeeze as
he passed by. She jumped at his touch. I was sure they
hadn’t shown each other any affection in years—physical or
emotional.
“I don’t hate you, son,” she whispered.
“You should.” He headed to the kitchen with Jameson.
 “Can I get you some coffee, Nora?” I offered. Poor
woman was as pale as a snowflake.
“Please,” she practically begged.
Izzy sat with Nora while I met my boys in the kitchen.
They were already searching for food in the stainless-steel
commercial-size refrigerator. I took a moment to take in the
scene. It hit me that this was going to be my life. Days of
waking up to Jameson trying to convince Drake that
cupcakes were a good option for breakfast. I mean, he
wasn’t wrong, but that was a no go. I didn’t need the kid
hyped on sugar already. Besides, there were plenty of treats
to be had at the upcoming ball.
“Mom votes no on the cupcakes,” I had to say. Drake
wasn’t going to hold strong.
“Aw, man,” Jameson snarled.
“How about eggs and toast?” I offered.
Jameson shrugged but grabbed a carton of eggs for me.
“Thank you, sir.” I took the eggs from my son, then gave
Drake a peck on the lips. “How are you hanging in there?”
“Good.” He sounded nervous.
“I know it’s a big day for you and your parents.”
“It’s going to be interesting, to say the least,” he
responded.
Interesting was right. Like right now.
“Nora,” a deep voice grumbled, loud enough for us to
hear through the wall dividing the kitchen and dining hall.
Drake darted out the kitchen door.
Jameson squinted his eyes. “Is that my new grandpa?”
 “Yep.”
“I want to go meet him and tell him what kinds of things
I like.”
I tugged on his sleeve. “Hey, kiddo, let’s wait a minute.
He hasn’t seen your dad for a long time.”
“How come?”
That was a great question. “How about we discuss this
after school?”
Jameson didn’t respond, other than to rush out the door.
I followed anxiously.
We entered the dining hall to find a major staring
contest taking place between Nora and Calvin.
Izzy popped off her seat and grabbed Jameson. “How
would you like me to take you to school? On the way, we’ll
grab doughnuts and hot chocolate.”
So much for no sugar, but I was grateful for Izzy. More
than she would ever know.
“Yes!” Jameson threw a fist in the air before he set his
sights on Calvin. “Hi, you’re my grandpa. I’ll tell you all
about me later.”
Leave it to Jameson to ease some of the tension that
permeated the room like a thick fog.
Calvin peered at Jameson, almost as if he were seeing
ghosts of the past. “I’d like that,” he stammered.
Jameson waved at everyone. “Bye, Mom and Dad.” I
loved hearing those words together—Mom and Dad.
“Bye, honey, I love you. Make good choices today.”
“You make good choices too.” He rushed off.
 “Thanks, Izzy,” I said, most gratefully.
That left four on-edge adults wondering where to go
from here. I think this called for copious amounts of coffee.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Thirty-One
Drake and I sat on the couch in the parlor, staring at his
parents—who sat separately on the oversized chairs across
from us—sipping their coffee and looking as if they would
like to crawl out of their skins.
My insides were buzzing like I’d already had ten cups of
the beloved drink.
Drake gripped my hand like a vise while he ran his
thumb over it repeatedly.
“How about those Lakers?” I blurted. Someone needed
to break the years and years of ice that had built up.
I got a few appreciative grins.
“Do you still like the Lakers?” Calvin asked Drake, with
meaning.
I wondered if Drake’s love for basketball came from his
dad. If that’s why he had been so eager for Jameson to love
the sport too.
“Yeah. Do you ever catch any of their games?”
Calvin scrubbed a hand over his gray-stubbled face.
“When I can.”
“Maybe we can go to a game together,” Drake offered.
“I can get courtside seats anytime I want.”
“That’s too fancy,” Calvin brushed off the offer.
Drake hung his head.
“Don’t be like that,” Nora admonished Calvin.
Calvin flashed her a seething look that was reminiscent
of Drake’s. “Don’t be like what?”
 She returned his glare with one of her own. “Don’t be so
damn stubborn. That was always your problem.”
“And you’re taking his side, just like you always did,” he
growled.
Nora looked ready to rip into him, but she took a deep
breath before she spoke. “You’re right, I did that far too
often, but sometimes it needed to be done. You needed to
be softer. Just like now. Our son is offering to take you to a
game. A sport you both love. Why in the world would you
refuse him?”
Calvin thought for a moment. “It should be the other
way around. I should take him, but . . .”
“We could never afford to,” Nora finished his thought.
“That’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
Calvin scoffed.
“We were ashamed,” Drake admitted. “Jameson and me.
We wanted more, and we made you feel like less. That has
to be a damned hard place for a father to be.”
Calvin stilled, gripping his cup but not uttering a word.
So very Drake-like.
Drake leaned forward, his eyes boring into his father’s.
“If Jameson were ever ashamed of me, I would be
devastated. I’m not sure anything could make me feel like
less of a man. Other than right now, realizing how I treated
you,” Drake’s emotion got stuck in his throat.
I squeezed his hand, so very proud of him.
A softness washed over Calvin’s countenance. “I wished
to God I could have given you and your brother more.”
 “You gave what you could,” Nora chimed in, her voice
quite pitchy.
“I knew it was never enough.” Calvin sounded so
defeated.
“Calvin,” Nora cried. “I’m sorry I made you feel that
way.”
He waved away her apology. “Don’t be. It wasn’t right
what I did to you, expecting you to live on so little. I never
blamed you for leaving.”
“You pushed me away.” Nora was still obviously upset
by it.
“What did you want me to do?” Calvin got riled up. “I
could tell you wanted to go. You all wanted to leave.”
“No.” Nora clenched her fist. “I wanted you to stop me.
Or come after me, you stupid fool.”
Calvin’s brown eyes widened. “You were better off
without me,” he whispered.
“We weren’t,” Drake said. “But I will take the blame for
it. All of it.”
“The hell you will.” Nora got fired up. “If anyone is to
blame, it’s me. I should have been a better wife and mother
and stopped all your nonsense before it went as far as it
did.”
“Don’t you blame yourself,” Calvin forcefully jumped
into the fray. “You were a damn good wife and mother. I
failed our family.”
Drake stood. “It’s my fault,” he said in anguish. “Can we
just leave it at that? Can you please forgive me?” he
begged.
Calvin and Nora whipped their heads toward Drake,
shocked into silence.
“Drake,” I whispered, reaching for his hand.
“It’s okay, Charlotte. Just let me own this. I swear to
you, though, I will do better for our family.”
I squeezed his hand. “I have no doubt.”
Nora stood, set her cup on the coffee table, and came at
her son. She was quick to wrap her arms around him. “Son,”
she cried against his chest, “I’m sorry you’ve carried around
this burden for so long. It is in no way yours to bear alone,
do you understand me? We all made mistakes.”
Drake held on to her with all that he had. “I’m a terrible
son.”
“No. No.” She tried to comfort him. “These last several
years, it’s been me pushing you away. You’ve tried. Now
look at you, with a son of your own. You owe it to Jameson
and Charlotte to not make the same mistakes we made.
Fight for what’s yours. Fight like hell if you have to.”
I liked Nora. A lot.
Calvin stood on unsteady legs. “Listen to your mother.
Don’t be a quitter like your old man.”
Drake leaned away from his mom and gazed down at
me. Such love filled his sheeny eyes. “I have no intention of
quitting.”
Best. News. Ever.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Thirty-Two
Izzy fastened the last button on Daisy’s dress. “There
you go.” She smiled at me through the standing mirror in
our room.
I stared at myself and swore I saw Daisy looking right
back at me. I felt the same excitement in my blood that she
must have felt wearing this dress, knowing she was about to
marry the love of her life. Drake and I weren’t talking
marriage, but there was hope. For now, that was all I
needed. “Thanks, Izzy.”
“You make that Drake Foster treat you well.”
“I will.”
She fussed with the elegant updo I was sporting. I
looked more like a woman than a cute and perky girl
tonight. Those push-up bras really do work wonders.
“He’s a lucky man.”
I brushed my fingers over my collarbone, feeling
beautifully feminine. “I’m lucky too.”
“Maybe someday I’ll believe that.” She smirked.
“I do hope you and Drake will be friends.”
She tossed her head from side to side. “I’ll give him a
trial period.”
“He is paying for the painter,” I reminded her.
“I’ll give him half a point.” She tossed her dark, curly
tresses. She was stunning in her red satin evening gown
with a daring neckline and a slit that showed off her toned
legs.
 “How generous of you,” I mocked her.
“It’s more than generous.” She wagged her brows. “We
probably better head out there and get ready to greet our
guests.”
“I can’t believe we’re doing this. Weird, huh? Renovating
this inn and starting our own business.”
“I don’t know. I would say it’s more like two little girls
living out their dreams.”
“I love living this dream with you, but you know, there’s
room for more. You deserve those dreams too.”
“Char,” she sighed. “I don’t know. The last man I made
out with turned out to be a criminal.”
“That’s a fun story to tell.” I giggled. I doubt Martez
would be laughing anytime soon. Drake was in the middle of
suing him, and no one in Hollywood would ever hire him
again. Maybe he and Marissa could hook up again. Yep,
that’s right, those two had had a little something-something
going on right under Drake’s nose. Not that Drake cared
who Marissa was dating. Only that Martez was feeding her
information. For that, they would never be forgiven.
“Not sure I want to spread that around. Maybe I’ll be
done with men.”
“I don’t think so. George has a way of knowing things.
That kiss—that man you’re looking for—is out there.”
Her cheeks blushed to match her dress. “What if I
already had that kiss and that’s it for me?”
I tilted my head. “I thought you said you never felt like
that when Jared kissed you.”
 She rubbed her chest. “I didn’t.”
“Then who are you talking about?” I was more than
curious.
She waved her hand in the air. “No one. We need to get
out there.”
“Izzy.” I grabbed her hand. “You can tell me anything.”
“I know,” she said, almost out of breath. “Let’s go.”
I slipped into my sparkly gold shoes and followed her
out. She had me freaking out a bit. She was definitely hiding
something from me, but I didn’t have time to think about it.
Waiting in the living room were the most handsome men
around, wearing matching black suits. Drake had taken
Jameson and his parents on a shopping trip yesterday while
Izzy and I finished decorating for the ball. His parents had
agreed to stay for the ball and needed something to wear.
They were still uncomfortable around each other, as exes
tend to be, but they were talking and even reminiscing a
little bit. This place had that effect on people. Who knows,
maybe the inn’s magic could work a miracle on behalf of
those particular soul mates.
Drake and Jameson stood tall and proud together. Drake
was holding a large bouquet of pink roses, and Jameson was
holding a pink gift bag and sporting a devious little grin like
he knew a secret.
“I’ll meet you outside.” Izzy tried to hurry out.
“Izzy,” Drake stopped her. “These are for you.” He held
out the roses.
Izzy’s brows hit her hairline.
 I was so impressed with my man.
“Um .  .  . thank you.” She admired the gorgeous
bouquet. “I wasn’t expecting anything.”
“You’re welcome,” Drake responded.
“I’m going to go put these in water.” She dashed out, so
flustered.
Drake smiled, pleased with himself.
I approached him and kissed his cheek. “Thanks for
thinking of Izzy.”
Drake grabbed my hand as his eyes roved over my
body. “Charlotte, you take my breath away.”
“Mom, we got you something for Valentine’s Day,”
Jameson could no longer keep it in. “I helped pick it out.”
“You did? What is it?”
“Can I give it to her, Dad?” Jameson looked up at his
father adoringly.
Drake smiled and nodded.
Jameson held up the bag. “You’re going to love it,” he
assured me.
“I’m sure I will.” I eagerly claimed the fancy pink bag. I
carefully took out the tissue paper and handed it to Drake.
Inside, I found a decent-sized black velvet box. Too big for a
ring. I wasn’t going to be disappointed by that. I was quite
content with where we were right now. There was plenty of
hope for the future. I reached in for the box.
Drake gently took it from me once I’d pulled it out.
“Allow me.” He opened it to reveal a stunning pearl
necklace.
 I placed my hands over my mouth. “It’s beautiful. Thank
you.”
“George told me Daisy wore pearls with this dress. It
seemed only fitting that you had some of your own. From
me.”
I grabbed his tie and yanked him toward me before I
remembered we had an audience. “Jameson, would you go
help Aunt Izzy put her flowers in a vase? Please.”
Jameson rolled his eyes. “I know you want to kiss.” He
marched off while Drake and I laughed.
As soon as he was out the door, though, the laughter
ceased and my lips were on Drake’s, the box of pearls
between us.
Our lips melded together for a soul-stirring moment, just
soaking each other in.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” I whispered.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, my love.”
“I like that title.”
“You know what I like?” he crooned.
“What’s that?”
“The way you look in that dress.” He ran a finger down
the exposed area of my chest, leaving behind a trail of
sparks.
“Is that so?”
“Very much. In fact, I’m thinking about forgiving you.”
“Are you now?” I purred.
He set the box of pearls on the nearby end table so he
could properly take me into his arms, drawing our bodies as
close together as he could. He leaned in and nuzzled my
neck before working his way up to my ear, brushing his
warm lips against my skin as he went.
I gripped the lapels of his jacket, shivering in pleasure.
“Guests will be arriving soon,” I stammered out, loving
every second of his touch.
“We can be late,” he groaned.
“No, we can’t,” I countered, but barely.
His fingers danced down the bare skin on my back,
making me throw my head back.
“You’re not playing fair,” I breathed out.
“I know.” His lips brushed mine.
I gently pulled away before I gave in to temptation. “I
don’t want to have to explain to Jameson why we’re late.”
“Fine,” he conceded.
I smoothed out his tie, like I had done a hundred times
as his assistant. I liked this role much better. “Thank you for
being here.”
He ran the back of his hand down my cheek. “Thanks for
waiting for me. I love you, Charlotte. I forgive you.”
“I love you. And I suppose I forgive you too.” I grinned.
He pulled me to him. “Get ready to make up.”
Oh, I was ready. “But first, we dance.”
“First the pearls.”
I liked his idea better. I turned so he could do the
honors.
“Drake, will you be happy here in Fair Hollow?” I had to
ask, as he placed the pearls around my neck.
 “Is this where you and Jameson plan to stay?”
“I was planning on it.”
He clasped the pearls and kissed my cheek. “Then, I’ll
be happy.”
I spun around, the most ecstatic woman alive, and dug
my fingers right into his curls. “Maybe we can be a little bit
late.”
~*~
Izzy and I waited by the door to greet each guest. But
there was one guest who was the most important to us—
sweet George. He arrived fifteen minutes after the start of
the ball. There were already several guests, dressed in their
finest, mingling to the sounds of the band playing Dean
Martin’s “Everybody Loves Somebody.” I sure loved a lot of
somebodies.
George shuffled in, wearing an old faded blue suit that
had seen better days but was pressed to precision. His red
bow tie with pink hearts was a bit askew. He was adorable.
He held in his hands two corsage boxes.
“These are for you, my dears,” he said, out of breath.
Poor guy.
“Oh, George. You didn’t have to do that,” Izzy and I
echoed each other.
“What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t?” He was
highly affronted.
Izzy and I laughed and slipped on our pink-rose wrist
corsages. I felt like I was going to the prom. This time,
though, I had the hottest date in town. Perhaps in the world.
How did that happen?
George looked around the old place. “She’s here
tonight.”
I held out my hand. “She is. Come see what we did to
the ballroom.” I was so excited to show him the paper
hearts. “And you’ll never guess who’s here.”
“Nora and Calvin,” he said, without missing a beat.
Izzy and I both blinked several times.
“How did you know that?” I asked.
George flashed me his mischievous smile, not saying a
word.
I shook my head. “I don’t know how you do it, George.
And maybe I don’t want to know. I’m afraid it would take
away the magic if I knew.”
He took my hand. “Girlie, don’t ever stop believing in
magic.”
I hoped I never did.
We entered the ballroom with George, and everyone
clapped for the old man. He was a legend here. He teared
up from the attention, and more so when he looked up to
see the paper hearts his wife had loved so much.
“Daisy girl,” he whispered, “look at our place.” He
squeezed Izzy’s and my hands. “We picked the right girls.”
Izzy and I smiled at each other. We belonged here, of
that there was no doubt.
I felt it even more as I took turns dancing with Jameson
and Drake. Mostly Drake. Jameson was more interested in
chasing his friend Ollie and eating cake.
From Drake’s arms I looked around at all the people who
were watching us. Drake was still very much a novelty. But I
felt secure in my place, with my human. Two people caught
my eye in particular. Nora and Calvin were dancing together.
Not cheek to cheek, but they were touching. And Calvin was
eyeing Nora in her sage chiffon dress, while Nora was
checking out Calvin in his suit. He cleaned up nicely.
“Your parents are dancing together,” I whispered.
Drake peeked in their direction. “Maybe this place is
magical after all.” He grinned.
“You have no idea.” I rested my head on his chest and
swayed to the beat of the music with him.
“I think I do.” He kissed my head.
The music stopped, yet we still swayed.
“It’s time for George to give a speech,” Izzy announced
into the microphone.
I turned in Drake’s arms to listen to George. Drake held
me firmly from behind.
Izzy helped George up to the platform where the band
was playing.
George took the microphone, not shaking as badly as he
normally did. “Welcome to all,” he began. “This ball was
started by my beloved Daisy. There was nothing she loved
more than love itself. And a happy ending. She would always
say, if you aren’t happy, then it’s not over. Some happily
ever afters take some time, but don’t ever give up.”
I had no intention of giving up. Ever.
OceanofPDF.com
 Epilogue
Five Months Later
Izzy and I lay on the hardwood floor to admire the
Swarovski Crystal French Empire chandelier that had just
been installed.
“It’s like diamonds dripping from the ceiling,” I sighed.
“Bling, bling.” Izzy laughed.
I took her hand and squeezed it. “We did it.”
“I suppose we should give Drake some credit. Everyone
and their dog wants to stay here because of him.” That was
true. We had been fully booked since we opened in April.
“Look at you. Maybe you’ll be friends with him yet.”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I kind of like the animosity
between us. It’s fun.”
I laughed at her. “Thanks for letting him live the dream
with us.”
“Speaking of dreams, I need to make sure the cleaning
staff has the Graham and Amanda room ready for our new
arrivals.”
“Hey.” I reached for her before she left. “Are you ever
going to tell me about that kiss?” I’d been asking her for
months.
“Nope.” She sat up before she stood.
“Come on.”
“Please let it be. It’s not something I’m exactly proud of.
Okay?”
 I nodded. “Okay. I love you, Izzy.” I wished she would
just tell me, but I understood wanting to keep some things
to yourself.
“I know, Char. Now go back to admiring your diamonds
in the sky.”
“Don’t mind if I do.” I gazed up at the beauty glittering
in the afternoon sunlight streaming in. If any guests walked
by, they were probably going to think I was nuts.
Two of my favorites did end up walking by. They had
gone on a secret excursion today. It was all very mysterious
and hush-hush.
I turned my head as they walked past. “Hey, guys.”
Drake tilted his head. “What are you doing down there?”
“Admiring the chandelier,” I squealed.
Drake and Jameson walked my way.
“Lie down next to me,” I invited them to join in my
lunacy, while I admired Drake in his shorts. Ooh la la.
They both gave me the same raised brows.
“Come on,” I encouraged them some more.
“Okay,” Drake relented.
They each took one of my sides and looked up.
“It looks like diamonds, doesn’t it?” I still couldn’t get
over how gorgeous it was.
“They look like the one we bought you today,” Jameson
blurted. “Oops.” He covered his mouth.
I whipped my head toward Drake, who was cringing and
sighing. Did Drake buy me an engagement ring? The
butterflies were on alert to start doing any dance they dang
well pleased.
“Sorry, Dad.” Jameson was about in tears.
“It’s fine, son.” Drake reached across me and ruffled
Jameson’s hair.
“I ruined the surprise.” Jameson turned into me.
Drake propped himself up on his arms. “Jameson,” he
said kindly. “Look at me, son.”
Jameson buried his head further into me. “No. I ruined
it.”
“You didn’t ruin anything.” Drake smiled at me. “I’m still
going to propose to your mom. And she’s still going to say
yes.”
“You think so?” I playfully challenged him, all while
bursting with inexplicable joy on the inside. It was as if the
magic of the place was suddenly culminating in this one
moment.
“I know so.” He was so dang sexy.
Jameson peeked his head up. “You will marry him,
right?”
“He has to ask me first,” I sang, while turning my head
toward Drake.
Drake brushed back my hair and gave me that look of
his that said he saw me and loved me. “Will you marry me,
Charlotte Valentine?”
I looked up at my chandelier, and then back at the
dream I wanted more than anything. The one we had been
working so hard for. “Yes.” And just like that, it came true.
Best decision of my life. And guess what? It involved a man.
 
THE END
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 COMING OCTOBER 2022
Christmas at Valentine Inn

With a name like Isabelle Valentine, one would think I

was destined to find true love and believe in the ridiculous
notion of soul mates. Don’t get me wrong: I’m all about love.
I even own an inn with my sister where each room is named
after our favorite romantic couples. But soul mates? It
seems highly implausible that there is that one person, your
person, meant only for you. My sister, of course, would tell
me I’m dead wrong and that the very inn we own calls to
such lovers. So, what if she did find her own unlikely happily
ever after here with one of the most famous men alive? That
doesn’t mean I’m meant for such a destiny.
But what happens when the implausible happens? When
a man I thought I would never see again walks into my inn.
The man who twenty years ago administered the kiss of all
kisses. The kind of kiss that whispered to my soul and told
me things I wasn’t ready to hear. But this time Dr. Patrick
Abbott isn’t alone—he comes with three beautiful children
and the memory of his dead wife, who seems to haunt all
their lives. So much so, Patrick would just as soon skip
Christmas. That I can’t have. I vow to make this the merriest
Christmas they have ever had, in between trying to help my
sister pull off the wedding of her dreams on Christmas Eve.
Perhaps in all the chaos, there is room for my own dreams
to come true. Maybe, just maybe, I was wrong about soul
mates? But what if Patrick and I missed our shot twenty
years ago? Either way, I’m hanging up more mistletoe.
Because man can the man kiss.

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If you enjoyed The Valentine Inn,
here are some other books by
Jennifer Peel that you may enjoy:
 
All’s Fair in Love and Blood
Love the One You’re With
The Holiday Ex-Files
My Not So Wicked Stepbrother
Facial Recognition
The Sidelined Wife
How to Get Over Your Ex in Ninety Days
Narcissistic Tendencies
Honeymoon for One - A Christmas at the
Falls Romance
Trouble in Loveland
Paige’s Turn
My Not So Wicked Ex-Fiancé
My Not So Wicked Boss
For a complete list of all her books,
click here.
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 About the Author

Jennifer Peel is a USA Today best-selling author who didn’t

grow up wanting to be a writer—she was aiming for
something more realistic, like being the first female
president. When that didn’t work out, she started writing
just before her fortieth birthday. Now, after publishing
several award-winning and best-selling novels, she’s
addicted to typing and chocolate. When she’s not glued to
her laptop and a bag of Dove dark chocolates, she loves
spending time with her family, making daily Target runs,
reading, and pretending she can do Zumba.
***
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To learn more about Jennifer and her books, visit her website
at www.jenniferpeel.com.
 

 
  

 
 
 
 
 
 

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