Chapter 1

One

Sam

"So, what do you think?"

Samantha Walker closed the hardback book on the bar and pushed it away ever so gently. Lost in thought, she closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath through her nose.

"I'm thinking," she mumbled, knowing without looking Vivian Harris watched her expectantly.

"Packs a punch." Vivian offered.

"Does it, though?" Sam blinked and met her boss's, her friend's , eyes. The book in question— Blue Eyed Lover —was a brand-new release by a debut author, and already everyone in the book world was buzzing about it. While Sam didn't hate it, she wasn't sure she understood the frenzy over it, either.

"You don't think so?"

Vivian selected a bottle of cabernet sauvignon and flicked her gaze over the label.

"I don't know." Sam shook her head. "Guess I just need to think about it longer."

"I know you didn't love Emily." Vivian splashed a healthy pour of the red into a long-stemmed glass and put the bottle down.

"She's shallow," Sam agreed.

"I know." Vivian nodded. "But what about Liam?"

Sam squeezed her eyes closed and shook her head. "Nope. I liked Dylan."

Vivian lifted the glass and swirled the wine. "This has good legs."

"It's really good." Sam glanced over her shoulder to the door. "What time is it?"

"We have two minutes," Vivian answered.

"Anything exciting happening on the beach tonight?"

"Every night on the beach is exciting," Vivian reminded her.

Sam slid off the barstool and pulled her keys from her pocket as she made her way to the door at the front of the place. Most nights on the beach were the opposite of exciting, which was exactly the reason she had put roots down two years ago when she'd wandered this way ready for a fresh start. No drama. No big city crowds. No pressure. Just an ocean, a beach, and beach-minded people.

"I get currant in this one," Vivian called to her from the bar. "You?"

"Black cherry," Sam answered. "When're Jon and Clinton coming back?"

Vivian snorted as she set her glass on the counter. "June."

The two wine reps not only brought the good juice, but they also kept Vivian and Sam entertained with their California stories. Sam figured at least half the stuff they shared wasn't true, but both men had a flair for drama and storytelling.

Sam finally turned to the door to unlock it. She pulled it open and jammed a rubber doorstop under it with her foot. The sun bright off the water, she shielded her eyes as she stepped outside. There weren't many people out yet, but Tuesdays in May weren't big beach days. She had lived in Love Beach for two years now, and she knew to enjoy the quiet before the storm. Once summer hit, the beach would be a popular destination, and Book she enjoyed sharing her love of wine and books with anyone who wanted to talk. Including males of all shapes, sizes, and ages.

But that didn't mean she had any interest in dating anyone.

"You should meet him," Vivian mumbled with a casual shrug. "That's all I'm saying."

"Well, I'm sure I will," Sam answered. "No doubt he'll wander in here sooner or later."

"He kind of looks like a mafia boss."

"And why would you think I'd find a mafia boss attractive?"

"He's got cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass. Just a little bit of gray. Dresses like a million bucks."

"Yep, he'd be super impressed with my bargain store jeans."

Vivian gave her a once over and a grin. "You're a doll. You'd make burlap look sexy."

"Not interested."

"Sam, you're not even forty."

"Still not interested." She shrugged.

"What about kids?" Glass in hand, Vivian wandered down the bar to stand closer to her.

"Don't want any."

"I mean, I'll be the first to admit kids can break your heart like no one else." Vivian sipped her wine, eyes on the door. "But that's only because they become your heart the second you know you're carrying them."

Sam stared at Vivian boldly. "I love kids. But I don't want to be a mother."

"Mmm." Vivian put her glass down and raised her eyebrows. "Houston, we're in business."

Sam glanced at the door as three women—probably Vivian's age—wandered inside. She felt the tension in her shoulders ease as the women made their way to the bar, eyes on the bookshelves on every wall other than the bar itself. She and Vivian had run the conversation about kids into the ground on more than one occasion. While her friend respected her, it was obvious Vivian didn't understand that Sam honestly did not want kids of her own. Sam heaved a small sigh of relief as Vivian turned her full attention to the women as they neared the bar.

"How does it work?" One of the women asked. "Do we order here?"

"You can order here, or you can grab a table, and we'll come to you. Sit your stuff down." Vivian waved at their purses and shopping bags. "And browse the books if you'd like."

"This place is beautiful."

"Thank you." Vivian moved around the end of the bar again to join the women and escort them to a four-top table.

Sam watched for a moment, listening to Vivian talk up not just Book & Barrel, but all of Love Beach. Book & Barrel truly was a beautiful bar. An old, repurposed church, the transom windows in the front of the building were still made of stained-glass. Cathedral ceilings offered the feeling of wide-open space, even with the bookshelves packed tight with all genres and shapes and sizes of books.

When Sam heard footsteps at the door, she turned her attention that way, ready to welcome the newcomer. Her heartbeat stuttered a bit when she saw the man step inside. Average height, he still somehow appeared powerful, authoritative. Dressed in denim that probably cost more than Sam's monthly rent and a simple gray t-shirt, he cut an impressive figure. Lean, but not thin, his skin already boasted a delicious golden tan.

She couldn't help but notice his bare feet tucked into soft-looking leather loafers. Or the cheekbones that yes, could probably cut glass. Thick dark hair, with a few streaks of gray, swooped back from his forehead.

Sam reminded herself she wasn't looking to date anyone. Yes, this was most likely the doctor Vivian was just talking about. Yes, he was easy on the eyes. But Sam's heart wouldn't be racing over his wiry forearms or his dark eyes if Vivian hadn't already mentioned him.

"Welcome in," she said when he finally looked at her.

"Thank you." He nodded. "First time. Beautiful place."

"Thanks." She rested her hands on the bar. "What can I get you?"

"Your favorite Cab," he answered immediately. "And a book recommendation."

Already reaching for the bottle of Chansonnier Vineyards, Sam studied the guy as he slid onto a barstool across from her. No longer noticing his sharp, Grecian nose or dark, thick brows, she watched the way his eyes roamed over the bar behind her, the way he sat perfectly still with his hands in his lap.

"Chansonnier Vineyards." She pushed the glass to him over the bar. "Cabernet Sauvignon. Best wine I've ever had. And Wolf Heart . By Jesse Vaux."

He lifted his hands, rested one on the bar, and picked the glass up with the other. Sam watched him put his thin lips on the rim and sip. He swung his gaze back to her as he tasted the wine, let it roll over his tongue, and finally swallowed it.

"Very nice," he agreed. "Do you have the book?"

"I do." She nodded and hurried out from behind the bar to retrieve the book for him. Vivian still stood at the table with the women. Sam heard the words kitchen décor as she moved by them. She found the book on the north wall of the building, just as she knew she would. The hardback book boasted a beautiful snowy white cover, a red-eyed wolf front and center. The fantasy book was one of her favorites. Part of her doubted that a doctor, a man of logic, would appreciate the story. But then, she used to be a teacher, and she was still a book lover, a reader, and that part of her knew anyone could fall in love with a well-told story.

"Nice." The guy nodded when she returned to her spot and set the book on the bar.

"Are you new to Love Beach?" she asked him, even though she already knew the answer.

"Moved here in mid-April," he answered. "I'm Roman Ewing."

"Samantha Walker." She shook his hand. "You're welcome to stay here at the bar or grab a table."

"Thank you." He looked around and then swung his gaze back to hers. "I think I'll just stay here at the bar if you don't mind."

Eyes locked with his, Sam offered him a sincere smile and nodded. "Not at all."