One

"C ome on, Jimmy. Give it to me."

Instead of handing the sheet of paper to Felix Franklin, journalist extraordinaire and his mentor, Jimmy tightened his grip. "You told me I needed to make a bucket list as part of my assignment. You said nothing about sharing it with you."

The project was part of the confidence boot camp Felix was putting on for him. The reporter had disliked Jimmy on sight. At first, Jimmy had taken it personally, but he'd eventually realized Felix's gruff exterior was a defense mechanism. Instead of being discouraged, it only made Jimmy more determined to get to know the man. And little by little, he'd chipped away at the stone wall until he'd penetrated Felix's fortress and gained the man's favor. Or maybe it was pity, plain and simple. The mere thought soured the orange juice in Jimmy's stomach.

The corner of Felix's mouth tilted into a wry smile, and his hazel eyes twinkled with orneriness. Nope . The affection was genuine . "What would be the point of asking you to make the list if I didn't plan to read it? How else can I hold you accountable if I don't know what your goals are?" Felix slanted forward and waggled his brows. "What's on your bucket list that you don't want me to see?"

Jimmy rolled his eyes. "Nothing." It was true. The really good shit was on a separate piece of paper and safely tucked away inside his notebook. Jimmy hadn't made one list; he'd made two. Even though Felix hadn't specified he'd have to reveal his secret desires, Jimmy knew the man well enough to expect it, just as Felix would expect him to protest. It was an amusing game of cat and mouse. Jimmy had no delusions about which one of them was the mouse. Still, handing the list to Felix was more challenging than he'd anticipated.

Felix crossed his arms over his chest. "Then what's the problem?"

Jimmy debated his answer. He could be truthful or try to bullshit his way out of it. Jimmy nearly scoffed out loud because when had he ever been able to bullshit his way out of anything? "I don't want you to make fun of me."

Scowling, Felix said, "Would I behave so hatefully?"

"Just every day ending with a y and twice on Sundays," Jimmy replied.

Felix pouted a minute before replying. "I'm not that big of an asshole, Jimmy. Maybe I'd poke a little fun every other day but never on Sundays." The ace investigator narrowed his eyes and studied his protégé more closely. "There's more to your reticence."

Jimmy blew out a breath. As much as he didn't want Felix to think poorly of him, there was another emotion he feared even more. "I fought a hard battle just for you to tolerate me, and with patience and persistence, I've gained acceptance. I'd even boldly claim you view me as a friend now."

Felix nodded. "Of course I do. That's why you can tell me anything."

"I don't want you to pity me."

His mentor winced. "God, you really do think I'm awful." Felix heaved a deep sigh. "I'm sure I deserve the low opinion after the way I behaved when you first started working here, but I want to be clear about something. There's nothing pitiable about you. You're a really good person. If we had more people like you, I'd have fewer crimes to report."

"Thank you." Jimmy wanted to believe Felix's high regard would remain intact, but he was afraid.

There was a reason he was twenty-six years old with no best friends to call his own besides his mother and grandmother. He'd been a sickly kid who'd had to spend a lot of time indoors. Jimmy hadn't been able to do all the fun things other kids took for granted, like sleepovers and camping trips or even birthday parties.

By the time he reached middle school, Jimmy had been far behind socially. The kids hadn't bullied him; it was so much worse. Jimmy felt like his classmates weren't even aware of his existence. He walked through the school hallways like a pale, skinny ghost. And high school? Ugh. The term late bloomer was the understatement of the century. He didn't want his thoughts to go there because he was a grown-ass man who still hadn't bloomed , at least not while in the same room with another person.

"Jimmy, I think it's time for a little of Uncle Felix's tough love. If you—" Felix paused suddenly. "Why are you making that face?"

"What face?" Jimmy asked.

Felix screwed up his handsome features to form a cartoonish mash-up of disgust and disbelief. Jimmy was sure he'd never made such a face in his lifetime. Hell, he hadn't been aware a person could even make that expression. It was hard to take his mentor seriously when he looked so ridiculous.

Laughing, Jimmy said, "Knock it off."

"So, maybe I exaggerated a little, but you were completely grossed out by something I said." Felix's eyes widened. "It was the Uncle Felix part."

Since he was hyperfocusing, Jimmy felt his facial features shift as if on cue. Felix lifted his phone and quickly snapped a picture.

Jimmy groaned. "What are you doing?"

"Aha!" Felix said, flipping the phone around so Jimmy could see the picture he'd taken. "Tell me I was wrong."

The picture clearly depicted Jimmy cringing, but it was nothing like the expression Felix had made. He could argue with the man, or he could get on with the boot camp lesson. They had a staff meeting in thirty minutes and arguing with Felix could easily last all day.

"I guess I find the term kind of creepy," Jimmy admitted but wouldn't confess it was because of the uncle porn he'd watched on his tablet the previous night. He had no reason to believe the two actors were really related, but it didn't stop his face from flushing bright red. "You're not old enough to be my uncle." Felix was only ten years older than Jimmy. "You're more like an older brother, but I'm happy just to call you my friend."

"I wouldn't take such an avid interest in just anyone's life," Felix said as he extended his hand once more for his protégé's bucket list. "Jimmy, to find the confidence to pursue your dreams, you must first own them. If you can't speak your wishes out loud to me, a friend, or even quietly slide them across the desk, how will you ever find the courage to chase them?"

"Fine," Jimmy grumbled as he placed the paper in Felix's hand.

His friend silently read the list before looking up to meet Jimmy's gaze. "What on this list embarrasses you? You've listed the kinds of things most people—"

"Have already accomplished by my age," Jimmy said.

"I've never swum with dolphins," Felix said. "I've never parasailed or gone skydiving." His friend returned his attention to the list. "I've never been up in a hot air balloon either." Felix took a deep breath and looked up at Jimmy. "Show me the other list."

Heat crept up Jimmy's neck. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Felix shook the paper and smiled. "There's not a single thing on this list to make a person turn that shade of pink. What do they call it? Fuchsia?" Felix shook his head. "You've named personal and career goals anyone would be proud to discuss in a crowded room. Most of them are things no twentysomething young man has yet achieved. Your flushed cheeks," he said, gesturing to Jimmy's face, "make me think there's another list."

"No," Jimmy said adamantly. He'd rather set himself on fire than reveal his deepest desires to another human being, especially one whose respect Jimmy coveted. Then again, as hot as his face felt, he figured he might go up in flames at any second. Problem solved.

Chuckling, Felix handed Jimmy back the list. "You're entitled to your secret dreams, Jimmy. I'm sorry I embarrassed you."

Jimmy picked up his bottle of water and took a long drink. It helped cool down his overheating brain and returned his breathing to normal. "I overreacted."

"I'm trying to help your confidence, not set it back even further," Felix said. "How do you plan on tackling the items on your list?"

Felix hadn't specified which one, so Jimmy only addressed the goals he'd shared. He laid out his plans for the summer, starting with attending the Savannah Summer Studio at the community college. "You study different art forms over twelve weeks. You can learn to paint, cook, write poetry, sew, make pottery, and chart your sun sign, among many others."

"Does learning new things make you happy?" Felix asked.

"Very." Not that he got a lot of opportunities with his mother and grandmother occupying his free time. Jimmy loved those two women more than life itself, but their devotion had started to feel overbearing and suffocating. He wasn't sure how to break the unhealthy cycles, but Jimmy was about to get a two-week reprieve. He planned to take advantage of every second and hoped it would lead to insight on achieving independence without hurting the ladies in his life. "These sessions could also help my career if I could turn them into stories for the paper."

Jimmy had been over the moon when he'd landed a position with Savannah Morning News , but his enthusiasm had cooled over the months. While he'd had a few bylines here or there, he was primarily an errand boy and filled in when the regular journalists were on vacation. He couldn't complain, though, because it gave him better insight into every aspect of the job.

"Have you discussed it with Minerva yet?" Felix asked.

Jimmy shook his head. "I thought I'd pitch it during the staff meeting."

His mentor smiled proudly. "Bold move. I like it."

Jimmy hoped it would make it harder for Minerva to say no, but someone as savvy as she was wouldn't hesitate to reject his ideas just because other people were in the room. She'd just do it gently because she liked him. "Do you have any advice for me?"

"Sit up straighter, square your shoulders, and hold your chin up. Make eye contact and look like you belong in the room. When it's time to suggest your story, deliver it in a tone that clearly says you're both proud of your concept and confident you can pull it off. Be prepared to defend your idea with reasons why people will be drawn to it."

Jimmy nodded. "Okay. I can do that."

Felix glanced at his watch. "We have about fifteen minutes before the meeting starts. Let's spend ten of those practicing the pitch."

"Seriously?"

"All greats practice, Jimmy. There's no other way to achieve success."

Sighing, Jimmy said, "You're right. I've just never liked role-playing exercises."

Felix chuckled. "Maybe you just haven't found the right circumstances yet."

Jimmy narrowed his eyes and wondered if his friend was talking about something else entirely. He just shrugged and went with the flow. Felix made the next ten minutes some of the funniest Jimmy had lived. He imitated some of the other reporters and Minerva in the faux staff meeting and gave Jimmy tips on better phrasing to use during his pitch.

He felt so much more confident than when he'd arrived at work that morning, but Jimmy's faith nearly deflated like a balloon when he saw Minerva sitting at the head of the conference table. The paper's editor looked like Marilyn Monroe but had Nora Ephron's sense of humor, Gloria Steinem's activism, and Barbara Walters's dogged determination. Jimmy respected the hell out of Minerva and never wanted her to regret hiring him.

"Breathe, Jimmy," Felix whispered as they took their seats at the table. "Remember what I said about your posture."

Jimmy sat up straighter and greeted everyone around them.

"We'll kick things off with the segment I dislike most," Minerva said. "Crunching the numbers."

As their editor, she was responsible not only for the newspaper's content but also for overseeing its growth. The publishing industry was rapidly changing as digital media continued to suck all the oxygen away from the older forms of publishing and reporting the news. Minerva didn't bemoan the loss of the good ole days. She continually looked for ways to grab their share of the digital pie while maintaining the paper's proud traditions.

Jimmy wasn't an expert, but it appeared things were holding steady since he'd come on board. Minerva seemed pleased with the numbers she shared but still looked relieved when she wrapped up the weekly segment.

"Now for the fun part," Minerva said. "I'd like to hear suggestions for new summer content for our digital paper editions. I'm thinking along the lines of arts and entertainment."

"What about sports?" Jerry, their sports reporter, asked. "There are all kinds of different tournaments going on."

"Definitely a consideration," Minerva said. "Let me know if you can find something unique that stands out from the usual stuff we print in the papers. Maybe we can highlight the personal side of sports."

"What about the various food festivals," asked Sanja, the paper's resident food critic.

"It's also another possibility," Minerva replied. "I'd like to do a different spin on things if we were to go with your idea. Like the heritage and tradition behind the food. Trace the recipes back to their origins and find unique stories rather than just share a photo and a recipe."

Sanja nodded. "I'll look at the upcoming events and see if something jumps out as a good starting point."

Felix bumped his knee against Jimmy's under the table.

"I have an idea," Jimmy said a little too loudly. All heads jerked in his direction, and he fought the urge to shrink down in his seat or bolt from the room.

"Yes, Jimmy," Minerva said.

Her use of the nickname eased his tension a little. Until Felix, the only people who addressed him by that name were his mother and grandmother. Everyone else called him James or Jamie. Felix had insisted neither option worked and refused to call him anything other than Jimmy. Soon the others at the paper started doing it too. Now, it felt weird if someone addressed him by another name.

"I signed up for Savannah Summer Studio classes at the community college. Each one teaches you a different art form, and some of them are rarely practiced these days. If they're not handed down to the younger generations, they'll be forgotten. I'd like to attend the classes and report on them. I figured since I'm a little clumsy, it might make for an entertaining story while I talk about the history of the various arts and ways to preserve them."

Minerva's smile radiated her approval. "This is exactly what I'm looking for. How frequently do you take classes?"

"They offer them several times a week. I bought the unlimited pass, so I can take as many courses as I want. I have plenty of time to devote to the project." Jimmy nearly cringed at how pathetic it sounded. He should've stated his desire to learn as many arts as possible instead of sounding like he couldn't even buy a date with a man.

Minerva nodded. "It would make an excellent weekly feature." She looked at Lois Harris, the managing editor of the arts and entertainment section of the paper. "Lois, I like Jimmy's idea so much that I'd like to see it included in the Sunday print edition also."

Lois blinked at her for a few seconds. "Are you asking me to attend classes with him?"

Jimmy tensed his body to suppress the impending shudder. Of all the people at the paper, Lois was the only one who didn't like him.

"No," Minerva said. "That won't be necessary. We'll run Jimmy's articles in both places. Or, depending on how it goes, we might run two different pieces each week. One for print and the other for digital."

Lois nodded at Minerva, then glared at Jimmy. "You'll need to have your edited articles in my inbox by Friday at noon."

"No problem," Jimmy said as he jotted the deadline in his notebook. He looked back up at Minerva. "Would you like to see a schedule of classes to weed out the ones I should avoid?"

"No," Minerva said. "I think that's something you'll instinctively know. I'm happy to be your sounding board if you need it, though."

"Wouldn't that be my job as the arts and entertainment editor?" Lois asked haughtily. "Or are you planning to hand the department to Jimmy too?"

Minerva's brow shot up as she stared at Lois, who cleared her throat and fidgeted beneath their editor's scrutiny. "Do you believe I'm the kind of person who'd make an announcement like that without first discussing it with you privately?"

"No," Lois said softly. "I'm sorry."

The women continued to stare at one another while everyone else glanced around the room. Jimmy figured his expression was just as confused as theirs. He didn't think anyone would describe Lois as a warm person, but they wouldn't call her hostile either. What was behind the recent shift in her personality?

"Okay, then," Minerva finally said. "Let's continue so we can wrap this up and move on with our day."

Felix nudged him with his elbow. Jimmy turned to look at him and saw Felix was holding his fist in the air. Jimmy grinned and bumped it with his own. The pride he saw in his mentor's eyes defrosted the chill he'd caught from Lois's icy stare.

Jimmy had wanted something, and he'd gone after it and achieved his goal. This "confidence boot camp" thing was working out pretty good for him so far.

Natalie Skye was every bit as beautiful in person as she appeared in the photo on her book jacket, even though the image had been taken before Jimmy was born. Her long curly hair still cascaded to her waist, but the strands were now silver and white instead of blonde. She wore a long, flowing skirt in a floral print and paired it with a white peasant blouse. The famous astrologer accessorized her outfit with a chunky turquoise necklace and matching dangly earrings. Her dark brown eyes twinkled with passion and wisdom as she addressed the students in attendance.

Of all the classes Jimmy had scheduled, this was the one he'd looked forward to the most. He'd stumbled across one of Natalie's sun signs books at a yard sale when he was in middle school. The cover's colorful symbols had captured Jimmy's attention, and he'd bought the book without knowing what it was about.

"Silliness and fantasy," the woman at the yard sale had told him when he'd handed over his fifty cents.

Based on her remark, Jimmy had expected to read a fairy tale. What he'd found interested him so much more than a princess rescuing a prince. Natalie Skye had used her astrological knowledge and psychology degree to write a series of books on understanding human nature and interpersonal relationships. Rejected by some but revered by many, she'd gone on to sell more than two hundred million copies of her books worldwide. Jimmy owned all five of her books, but he'd brought his original yard-sale purchase, hoping she'd autograph it for him.

Not only was she the most respected astrologer, but there was a bit of mystery surrounding Natalie. She'd suddenly retreated from doing public appearances a decade ago, and no one knew why. Jimmy had been ecstatic to see her name listed among the many lecturers and artists presenting at the summer studio, and he wasn't the only one. Every chair in the class was taken, and dozens of people stood in the back of the room.

"Have you ever met someone and felt like you've known them your whole life?" Natalie asked the class. "Have you ever loved someone with your whole heart but couldn't make a relationship work?"

Many people around Jimmy confirmed they had, but he just rested his elbows on the desk and leaned into her lecture. He hadn't experienced either of those things but was eager to learn how to handle them if they occurred.

"It's important to know when to hold on and when to let go," Natalie said softly. "It can save you a lot of heartache and time. Your heart and your time are your greatest commodities," she said as she made eye contact with Jimmy. "Spend them wisely."

Ten minutes deeper into her lecture, Jimmy realized the previous interviews hadn't captured a tenth of her warmth and vivaciousness. Yes, she was poised and confident, but her humor and wit shone as bright as the constellations she studied. Natalie used her family's dynamic to illustrate various sun sign traits and explain how two very different personalities can live in harmony.

"Take my son, Nova, for example," she said, gesturing toward the far right side of the room.

Every student turned in unison to catch a glimpse of the man whose very name added an extra twinkle in her eyes. A dark-haired, blue-eyed man with a square jaw held up his hand and waved. As Jimmy stared, Nova, whose name was as beautiful as the man, met his gaze. An amused half smile tugged at his lips, snatching the air from Jimmy's lungs like the one time he'd played king of the hill with the neighbor kids. He'd bravely charged up the slope prepared to claim the land for himself, but the king had blocked him and sent him tumbling back down. Jimmy had landed hard on his back, knocking the wind out of his body, so he'd lain there gasping for air like a fish out of water.

God, was he doing it now? It felt like it. Jimmy turned his head back toward the front of the class so fast he nearly wrenched his neck. Jesus. He was a mess. If he kept it up, he'd never get to cross items off Jimmy's Summer Adventure list. And not the safe version he'd shown to Felix either.

"My son, the astronomer, and I couldn't be more different if we tried," Natalie said. "Our approach to nearly everything comes from opposite views, and we want to achieve vastly different goals. We haven't just found a way to tolerate one another, we thrive off those differences, and they make us better people." She blew a kiss toward him, but Jimmy didn't turn his head to watch the man's reaction for fear he wouldn't be able to look away a second time.

It must've been cute because a smattering of people giggled, and a few said, "Aw." The woman beside Jimmy, who'd introduced herself as Jill, practically melted into a puddle on the floor. He thought it might have to do with the strong-smelling alcohol she'd poorly hidden in her Sonic cup.

Natalie continued her lecture, and Jimmy jotted down interesting tidbits and story ideas about the class for the paper. Considering the climate in the world, he thought Natalie's teachings could come in handy. People didn't have to agree, but they sure as hell needed to coexist.

As enthralled as he was with Natalie's lecture, Jimmy couldn't fully ignore the sexy scientist on the opposite side of the room. The man's presence was so strong and alluring. Jimmy was drawn to him as if they were connected by some invisible string. Every so often, he'd tilt his head just so and peer at him from the corner of his eyes. Yep. Still there. Still sexy. And still looking at me? Nah . Jimmy squelched that thought easily enough.

When the class was over, he wrestled with his nerves for about two minutes before pulling Natalie's book from his backpack. Jimmy approached the front of the room where she stood talking to a few of the students. He was glad to see he wasn't the only one who'd brought something for her to sign.

"Hi," Jimmy said when he got to the front of the line. "Would you mind signing my book?"

Natalie took the battered copy from his hand and smiled down at it. "This is the original cover. I rarely see it anymore." She opened the book and wrote, The stars don't lie before adding her signature below it. "Here you go," Natalie said, smiling when she returned the book to Jimmy.

"I bought it at a yard sale when I was twelve. I thought the symbols were mesmerizing." Then he repeated what the lady had said when she'd sold the book to him. "I thought I'd be reading about pirates or princes."

"Or a pirate who used to be a prince?" she asked.

"That sounds like a fun book, but I still like yours better. Thanks for signing it for me."

Natalie tipped her head to the side and said, "You're an old soul. And sweet as pie too. Pisces?"

"Yes," Jimmy said.

"Will you be attending the rest of my classes this summer?"

Jimmy nodded. "I've always been fascinated by your work, and luckily, I get to turn my curiosity into an assignment for my job."

"Oh? How so?" Natalie asked.

Jimmy gave her a shorter version of the pitch he'd made to Minerva.

"I'm completely charmed by you," Natalie told him.

"I'm telling Dad," said a man with a voice like honey.

Jimmy turned his head and locked gazes with Nova. He'd been so engaged in conversation that Jimmy hadn't heard his approach. Nova's icy blue eyes were even more intense up close, and Jimmy wondered if they changed with his emotions. Did they darken and heat up with anger or arousal? The last idea stirred all kinds of delicious images in Jimmy's mind. The man's penetrative gaze made you think he could read a person's thoughts. Jimmy certainly hoped not because his musings were highly indecent.

Natalie's melodious laughter snapped Jimmy's attention back to her. "Don't be ridiculous. Jimmy was just telling me about the series of articles he plans to write about the Savannah Summer Studio. I think he's a breath of fresh air."

Jimmy's face heated beneath her praise, and he wanted to respond, but his tongue felt swollen and clunky in his mouth as if it didn't fit.

His cell phone vibrated in his pocket, and he quickly checked it. Jimmy's mother had sent a text asking him to stop by the store on his way home to get more sunscreen. She'd bought three bottles already, but he wasn't going to argue with her. Another text came, but it was from his grandmother. She wanted chewing gum for the flight and condoms just in case. He regretted buying the phone for her and teaching her how to use it. Thankfully, the texts broke the spell Nova's presence had cast over him.

Jimmy tucked his phone away and smiled. "It was nice meeting you both. Thanks again for signing my book," he told Natalie.

"My pleasure."

Jimmy headed back to his desk and began stuffing his belongings back into his bag. Warm, masculine laughter made him jerk his head up just as he tried to stow his notebook away. Mesmerized by the sound, Jimmy missed the backpack and had to readjust his aim on his second attempt.

Nova. Everything about the man was beautiful, so why wouldn't his voice and laughter match? The man started to look in his direction, but Jimmy pivoted and walked away before their eyes could meet. His phone continued to vibrate all the way to his car as his mother and grandmother besieged him with requests from the store.

Just twelve more hours until Jimmy drove them to the airport. If luck were on his side, he'd spend eight of those sleeping. He could endure four more hours of last-minute requests because Jimmy's Summer Adventure would kick off in style as soon as he pulled away from the passenger drop-off curb.

After seeing Nova Skye, Jimmy had another thing to add to his list: Find a man whose laughter stirs something deep in the pit of your stomach.