07 It Had to Be You Read online

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  Table of Contents

  It Had to Be You

  Free Book: Blue Flame

  A Preview of Always on My Mind

  A Preview of Seeing Red

  Newsletters

  Copyright Page

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  Dear Readers,

  I’m so pleased to share this special edition with you. It contains my latest Lucky Harbor novel, It Had to Be You, as well as the free, full-length novel Blue Flame.

  It Had to Be You is brand new. Blue Flame was first published years ago, was unavailable for a long time, and never made it to the digital age—until now. So, as the saying goes, you have something old, something new, and something blue! But whether old or new, both have a hot hero and a happily ever after.

  Hope you enjoy them.

  Best wishes,

  Chapter 1

  Some things were set in stone: The sun would rise every morning, the tide would come in and out without fail, and a girl needed to check herself out in the mirror before a date no matter the obstacle. To that end, Ali Winters climbed up on the toilet seat to get a full view of herself in the tiny bathroom mirror of the flower shop where she worked. Ducking so that she didn’t hit her head on the low ceiling, she took in her reflection. Not bad from the front, she decided, and carefully spun around to catch the hind view of herself in her vintage—aka thrift store—little black dress.

  Also not bad.

  She’d closed up Lucky Harbor Flowers thirty minutes ago to get ready for the town’s big fundraiser tonight, where they were hopefully going to raise the last of the money for the new community center. Earlier, she’d spent several hours delivering and decorating Town Hall with huge floral arrangements from the shop, as well as setting up a display of her pottery for the auction. She was excited about the night ahead, but Teddy was late.

  Nothing unusual. Her boyfriend of four months was perpetually late but such a charmer it never seemed to matter. He was the town clerk, and on top of being widely beloved by just about everyone who’d ever met him, he was also a very busy guy. He’d been in charge of the funding for the new community center, a huge undertaking, so most likely, he’d just forgotten that he’d promised to pick her up. Hopefully.

  Still precariously balanced, she eyed herself again, just as there was a sudden knock on the bathroom door. Jerking upright in surprise, she hit her head on the ceiling and nearly toppled to the floor. Hissing in a breath, she gripped her head and carefully stepped down. Managing that without killing herself, she opened the door to her boss, Russell, the proprietor of Lucky Harbor Flowers.

  Russell was in his mid-thirties and reed thin, with spiked blond hair, bringing him to just above her own almost-but-not-quite, five foot five. He was wearing red skinny pants and a half tucked–in red-and-white checkered polo shirt. These were his favorite golf clothes, though he didn’t golf, because he objected to sweating. He was holding a ceramic pot filled with an artful array of flowers in each hand.

  Ali took in the two arrangements, both colorful and cheerful, and—if she said so herself—every bit as pretty as the pots, which were hers too.

  “What’s wrong with this picture?” Russell asked.

  She let go of the top of her head. “Um, they’re all kinds of awesome?”

  “Correct,” Russell said with an answering smile. “But they’re also all kinds of waste. No one ordered these, Ali.”

  “Yes, but they’ll look fantastic in the window display.” An age-old argument. “They’ll draw people in,” she said, “and then someone will order them.”

  Russell sighed with dramatic flair. The flower shop had been his sister Mindy’s until two years ago, when he’d bought it from her so that she could move to Los Angeles with her new boyfriend. “Sweetkins, I pay you to make floral arrangements because no one in Lucky Harbor does it better. I love your ceramic-ware and think you’re a creative genius. I also think that genius is completely wasted on the volunteer classes you give at the senior center, but that’s another matter entirely. You already know that I think you give too much of yourself to others. Regardless of that big, warm heart of yours, you make the arrangements. I run the business.”

  Ali bit her tongue so she wouldn’t say what she wanted to. If he would listen to her ideas, they’d increase business. She was sure of it.

  “And speaking of the shop,” he went on, “we need to talk sometime soon. Um, you might want to fix your hair.”

  She turned her neck and glanced in the mirror. Eek. Her wildly wavy hair did need some taming. She quickly worked on that. “Better?”

  “Some,” Russell said with a smile, and put the flowers down to fix her hair himself. “Where’s your cutie-pie, live-in boyfriend?”

  Two months ago, her apartment building had been scheduled for lengthy renovations, and Ali had needed a place to stay. Teddy had generously offered to share his place. He was like that, open and warm and generous. And fun. There hadn’t been a lot of that in her life. And then there was the pride of being in a real, adult relationship.

  So she’d happily moved into his beach house rental, and suddenly everything she’d ever dreamed of growing up—safety, security, and stability—was right there. Her three favorite S’s. “Teddy’s late,” she said. “I’ll just meet him there.”

  Russell peered at her over the top of his square, black-rimmed glasses. “Don’t tell me that Hot Stuff stood you up again.”

  “Okay, I won’t tell you.”

  “Dammit.” He sighed. “The sexy ones are all such unreliable bitches.” He hugged her. “Forgive me for my complaint about the fabulous arrangements?”

  “Of course. What did you want to talk about?”

  A shadow passed over Russell’s face but he quickly plastered on a smile. “It can wait. Come on, I’ll take you to the auction myself. I want to get there before all the good appetizers are gone.”

  “How do you know there’ll be good appetizers?”

  “Tara’s cooking.”

  Tara Daniels Walker ran the local B&B with her sisters, and she was the best chef in the county. Definitely worth rushing for.

  Russell drove them in his Prius. Lucky Harbor was a picturesque little Washington beach town nestled in a rocky cove with the Olympic Mountains at its back and the Pacific Ocean at its front. The town itself was a quirky, eclectic mix of the old and new. The main drag was lined with Victorian buildings painted in bright colors, housing cute shops and a bar and grill called The Love Shack, along with the requisite grocery store, post office, gas station, and hardware store. A long pier jutted out into the water, and lining the beach was a café named Eat Me, an arcade, an ice cream shop, and a huge Ferris wheel.

  People came to Lucky Harbor looking for something, some to start over and some for the gorgeous scenery of the Olympic Mountains and the Pacific Ocean. Ali was one of those looking for a new start. The locals were hardy, resilient, and, as a rule, stubborn as hell. She had all three of these characteristics in spades, especially the stubborn as hell part.

  They parked at the Town Hall building at the end of the commercial row, and found the place filled to capacity.

  “Look at all the finery,” Russell said as they walked in, sounding amused. “For that matter, look at us. We’re smoking hot, Cookie.”

  “That we are.”