Chapter 1

Jesse Turner left Rosewood Ridge a long, long time ago. Probably not long after he kissed me under the oak tree near our rental cabin. So how was it possible he was standing at the front desk at the Rosewood Ridge Retreat Center?

"I have a reservation," the man who looked like Jesse Turner said. "Last name's Turner."

Holy crap. Could it be...?

Sure enough, when I typed the last name into the reservation system, it was there, clear as day. Jesse Turner.

"We have you down for three nights," I said, my voice shaky. "Are you here on business or pleasure?"

As I spoke, I withdrew a keycard from under the counter. With trembling hands, I activated it, wrote the room number on the small envelope, and slid the card inside.

"A little of both," he said. "I'm with the Southeast Motorcycle Association. I'm setting things up for Biker Blast."

Normally, those two words would immediately stress me out. Biker Blast was an annual event that I probably wouldn't even have noticed if not for my new job as desk clerk at the Rosewood Ridge Retreat Center. Every room was booked for this weekend, which meant we'd all been scrambling to get things ready.

But there was no room for worrying about Biker Blast. Not when Jesse Turner was standing in front of me for the first time since our goodbye kiss seven years ago.

"This is your first time in Rosewood Ridge?" I asked as I scooted the keycard across the counter to him.

He was staring at me. He recognized me. If nothing else, he'd seen my name on my nametag. I glanced down and nearly gasped when I saw I'd forgotten to wear it. What were the odds I'd forget to wear my nametag the day Jesse Turner walked into this place?

When I looked up again, Jesse's eyes were narrowed at me. It was possible he wouldn't piece together that I was the same eighteen-year-old he'd met that summer so long ago. I'd always been curvy, but I'd put on some extra pounds since high school graduation. Mostly, I had gone from a girl to a woman in those seven years.

But also, there'd be no reason for me to live in this town. My parents had been visiting on vacation, staying in one of the cabins halfway down the mountain the summer Jesse and I met. Jesse had just bought the cabin next door as a vacation rental, and he was getting everything set up that week.

Once we'd met, there'd been no keeping us apart. To say he was my first love was an understatement. I'd fallen hard.

I had high hopes that we'd stay in touch after we left. We'd exchanged phone numbers, and it wasn't like he couldn't easily find me on social media. But the one text I sent after leaving town went unanswered. He'd totally ghosted me.

Eventually, I started dating someone else, but no one had compared to the twenty-eight-year-old I'd met that summer after high school graduation. I'd never forgotten him, even if I should have.

"Is everything okay?" I asked, my heart pounding so hard he had to hear it.

"Sure." His expression changed from one of confusion to all business. "I just need to get cleaned up. I'm meeting someone named Nate for dinner. Do you know him?"

Jesse was handsome. Beyond handsome. Even if I'd never met him as a teen, I would still gawk at him. He had an intense stare and a tough guy exterior, but he was a big teddy bear beneath all that. No wonder I'd had such a hard time getting over him after our time together ended.

I shook my head. "Never heard of him."

"He's in charge of the parade tomorrow. In fact, if you're not working, you should come watch. But I guess you've probably seen it before unless you're new around here."

He didn't recognize me. If I'd had any doubt, that would've erased it. I technically was new to town, but we visited a lot when I was a kid. He'd met me on one of those visits.

"I just moved here a few months ago," I said. "I have to be at work at noon."

"Perfect," he said. "The parade starts at eight." He snatched up the keycard envelope and tucked it into his pocket, then picked up his duffel bag, throwing it over his shoulder. "I'll be on the silver bike just ahead of the Rosewood Ridge Riders. See you there."

His gaze lingered on me a little longer than normal as he backed away and started toward the elevator.

I wasn't sure whether he recognized me or found me attractive. Either one would work for me.

I tried to shake it off as I returned to work. But by the time my heart rate finally calmed down enough for me to focus, I knew nothing good could come of it, anyway. I lived here, and he lived somewhere else—probably back in Ohio.

I'd finally gotten over being ghosted by him the first time. I didn't want to go through that again.