Prologue

Crescent Cove was nothing like I'd expected when I rolled into the small town. The holiday season was in full swing and at first, the explosion of bells, bows, and Christmas trees made my eye twitch. I was used to the ostentatious and exploitive nature of Christmas, thanks to my mother's home brand.

After the initial shock of decorations on every lamp post, awning, and business window, I quickly saw the difference between small town Christmas and the one I was used to. Instead of uniform and perfect, each business seemed to have their own style that complemented the traditional splashes of lights and sparkle that made up the town.

I made my way down Main Street and spotted more than a dozen Christmas trees, both big and small. The December wind was brisk, but Central New Yorkers were a hardy bunch. People meandered and chatted, seemingly happy to be bogged down with bags bursting with last-minute gifts.

Christmas was nearly here somehow.

I'd been in semi-nearby Albany for a meeting with one of my mother's distributors. I'd been halfheartedly working inA Home You Love's corporate office. Whispers of nepo baby in the halls didn't help my already epic dislike of the home brand that appeared in every retail space across the United States and Canada. If my mother had her way, she'd be adding Europe by the following year.

A master's degree in business and finance had been a foregone conclusion being the eldest son of Wayne and Michelle Keller. The schooling part hadn't been the problem. I enjoyed the competition and the stability of college. Hell, I'd been shipped off to boarding school as soon as my parents could manage it. I was used to being on my own. College had been a means to an end, not a cast of lasting friendships.

I kept my head down and my eye on the prize.

Freedom.

Then again, I was still tangled with A Home You Love.

For now.

I'd learned from my father how to invest and real estate had activated that competitive flame within me. Both building and renovating had their places, but I was mostly interested in finding special spaces and the perfect buyer—or renter.

I wanted something completely separate from the Keller name. It had been touch and go for the first few years, but I could stand on my own with the properties I now owned. Enough that I'd been able to hire an admin to handle the day-to-day things that didn't interest me.

Caro had been eager to get out of my father's secretarial pool and have her own office to run. My father might be a genius with financial risk and reward, but he treated his employees like garbage. I vowed I'd never be like him in any way.

Cold. Dismissive. A slave to the almighty dollar. He only lived for the high of a deal.

My mother was no better. Sure, she loved the trappings of money, but her eyes were always on the cameras. She adored being at the forefront of her home brand. Pretending she was the ultimate mother, businesswoman, and creative person.

If only people knew that their precious Michelle Keller didn't give a rat's ass about her children unless it was time to take a photo for the annual holiday postcard that would be plastered on every tag for Christmas decor. The ultimate sales period for any business, really, but even more so for A Home You Love. My mother loved to believe she was the next Joanna Gaines—minus the actual love of family.

And doing actual creative work.

She left that part to my sister, not that Sydney got any of the accolades. No, those went to the queen bee and no one else.

Last weekend, we'd all been trotted out for the annual dog and pony show. The corporate holiday party happened to coincide with my mother's sixtieth birthday. The ostentatious over-the-top affair had been staggeringly painful, but I was used to sacrificing an evening packed with lies.

Until a cheeky reporter had the gall to bring up my mother's former life. I'd always known I had a pair of half brothers but Dorian Briggs—I'd never forget the reporter's name—had brought them into my life with a breathtakingly technicolor bomb.

Family had only meant a chance for a public relations photo op until I'd seen a glossy photo of the Hamilton men of Crescent Cove. Not only did Seth and Oliver look startlingly like me, but the identical twins had seemingly found the key to happiness in a sleepy small town in Central New York.

Which was why my idiotic ass was driving into Crescent Cove after an excruciating day of meetings.

Dorian had dug up the skeletons in my mother's closet, but she'd shrugged it off with no more than a cool stare of disdain. The reporter had been banished from the party with a flick of my mother's bejeweled wrist before she moved on to another reporter who had only fawned over Michelle Keller's successes.

But for me, it had been a breath-stealing moment of what if?

Was nature versus nurture a reality?

I glanced over at the passenger seat of my BMW rental at the photo for Hamilton Realty. Seth and Oliver were front and center of the glossy trifold marketing brochure. We had the same coloring, same hair, same build—the only difference was that I had the arctic blue eyes of my mother.

I didn't need to open it up to see the happy family inside. I'd memorized the faces of Alison and Sage Hamilton, Seth and Oliver's wives, along with their children with their glowing smiles as examples of the perfect family life.

I knew all about the fake smiles and the fake family charm.

But that photo was missing the veneer I knew all too well. There was no staged set, no fussy clothing that matched—it was a backyard with Crescent Lake in the background.

I'd found myself looking at the brochure daily since the party. I'd even looked up a few private investigators to dig deeper into the family tree of Hamiltons.

Being two hours from the small town had been far too much of a lure.

Even if it looked like Christmas had thrown up on every single building. And the heavy clouds over the massive Crescent Lake were ominous with potential snow.

I was used to the gray skies. Seattle wasn't quite as overcast on the daily as the lore purported, but we were one of the rainiest cities in the United States. New York had a different kind of cold. Seattle certainly saw snow, but not like this little town did.

There were snowbanks neatly piled along the sidewalks from a snowstorm the day before. And if that lake effect had any say, there might be another one tonight.

My car's dash screen kicked over from music to an incoming call. Surprised, I accepted the call.

"Max? Not like you to use an actual phone for its intended purpose."

"Because you were supposed to be at my party tonight, and your lovely sister told me you're still in New York."

"Hell, I'm sorry. I forgot all about it."

"I see how you are." Max's voice was crisp, but lacked offense.

Not like I could explain to one of my oldest friends that I was sneaking around Crescent Cove, hoping to get a taste of what ifs . I didn't even really know what I was doing here.

As if I was going to go up to my half-brothers and announce myself after no actual contact for nearly thirty years. I was being absolutely ridiculous.

Then I noticed a sign for a real estate auction. "I couldn't resist an auction for some waterfront property."

It was impulsive, but maybe I could make this ridiculous trip have a little meaning. Instantly, I felt better about it and eased into a parking spot on the street to plug the address into my maps app.

"Always business with you, Jude."

"As if you can talk." The screen showed the bulk of the lake with a small area right off the water. Maybe I'd actually backed into something interesting, after all.

Max laughed. "Yes, but I know how to insert some fun in my life, unlike you."

"Your office building full of tech toys doesn't count."

"Toys sometimes count."

I snorted. "Depends on the kind of toys."

Max laughed again. "You're in a mood today."

"I am?"

"Yes. Not so stiff and miserable. I like it."

"Must be the lake air and the 27o."

"Well, if it's interesting, keep me in mind. We've talked about working together. New York is a nice, neutral space."

I didn't even know if the auction would actually be anything. "I'll remember that. Sorry I'm missing your party tonight."

"It's fine. It's just performative, anyway. I'll probably escape to my office as soon as possible."

"Work/life balance is impossible when you live in the same building, Max."

"Okay, what is in that rarified air in…where are you again?"

"Crescent Cove."

"Sounds like it should be in one of those Christmas movies my sister is obsessed with."

"Looks like it too," I said as a red bow the size of my windshield on a nearby lamppost fluttered in the increasing wind.

"Well have fun in Smallsville, USA. You'll be missing out on quite the meal. Marta outdid herself with the dinner and spirits."

"I don't know why Marta puts up with you."

"Because I actually pay her what she's worth. I'll see you for New Year's unless you bail on me there too."

"Wouldn't dream of it. Sydney always looks forward to your parties."

"Good. I'll see you then. Oh, and Jude, I'm serious about the real estate in New York. I wouldn't mind diversifying out to the east coast."

"Will do."

After I ended the call, I decided I was curious enough to check out the auction. I'd sold two of my properties recently and had some extra capital available if the price was right.

The directions took me out of the town proper onto a winding road that gave a stunning view of Crescent Lake. I half expected it to be a small lake, but it seemed as if New York didn't do anything small. Even in their small lakeside towns.

The trip took less than seven minutes from the busy part of town, which was also a plus. Close to the town, but far enough to have its own options, depending on the building.

The sky was getting more threatening, but the clouds over the lake were beautiful in their darkness. The wind kicked up and the water was choppy, adding to the view. As I rounded the bend, a pathetic building came into view.

The roof was sagging on the two-level structure and the parking lot was more craters of gravel than blacktop. Four cars were parked close to the building. I nearly turned around until I caught the view.

I parked and found myself drawn to the patchy grass and snow that looked over the lake. A stately red maple reached up into the sky with its barren fingers, its leaves long gone to the winter winds off the water. A solitary picnic table sat under its branches, but I could picture half a dozen more or even some simple tables with umbrellas.

I shifted and noticed the windows of what used to be a delicatessen. The letters had been scraped off, but the ghost of a name remained. Bradford or Bradley, I couldn't really tell. Part of the window had been broken and patched with industrial tape.

It could be an eatery with tables to maximize the view.

Maybe even built out for an impressive patio.

From this vantage point, the building was far more impressive than it had looked from the road.

"Helluva view, isn't it?" A blond man came forward, his curls wild around his face as the wind kicked up again. He wore deceptively broken-in jeans, boots, and an Irish fisherman's sweater that probably cost four-hundred dollars. A denim shirt peeked from the collar and below the hem of the sweater.

He reminded me of the waterfront monied types. Everyday man on the surface, but as rich as a Kennedy.

"The lake is beautiful," I agreed.

He held his hand out. "Xavier Hastings."

I shook it. "Jude Keller."

"So, are we going to be competitors, Jude Keller?"

"Maybe so. You look a little young for an auctioneer."

Xavier snorted. "No, that would be Dennis Packer." He pointed toward two older men speaking at the far end of the building. "The shorter one who's practically lapping at Maitland's boot."

I glanced back at Xavier. "I'm not from here, so I can't say I know the players."

"Oh, fair point. I was pretty sure you weren't a Cove resident, but I don't know everyone. Just most everyone." He grinned. "Arthur Maitland is the tall one with the RBF."

I arched a brow at him. "RBF?"

"Resting bitch face."

I resisted the urge to laugh. The man would be my competitor, but I couldn't help but like him on sight. "Fair assessment." Arthur Maitland was nearly identical to my father in both style and demeanor. His blazer and suit pants with golf shirt made him seem like he was approachable and affable, but I recognized the shark eyes.

Maitland's gaze was also locked on the water. He didn't even give us a cursory glance.

I understood because it was a prime location even if the building itself looked ready for a bulldozer.

"What's the starting bid?"

Xavier grinned. "It's a surprise. The bank foreclosed on the building last summer, but it has been tied up in the courts since then. Maitland is drooling for another patch of lakefront property."

"Why?" I rolled my eyes. "Besides the obvious."

"He's been snatching up any properties along the water." He pointed to the far side of the lake. "Wants to build a resort."

I frowned. "Crescent Cove doesn't seem like a resort town. Tourists, sure, but not a resort town."

Xavier dipped his hands into his pockets. It was an easygoing gesture, but his light eyes sharpened. "Sure you're not from here?"

"Seattle, actually."

He whistled. "Long ways away from Washington, friend."

"I was in the area for…work."

Xavier arched a brow. "Interesting." The sound of a car door closing had him glancing over his shoulder. "Oh, now it's really getting interesting."

"Why?"

He saluted the man with the oak-colored hair and bespoke suit. "Nice to see ya, Gavin."

The man gave Xavier a half wave but went over to look into the windows of the old delicatessen.

"Another player?"

"You could say that. Gavin Forrester is a self-made man. I admit to family money, but Gavin is the definition of bootstrapping. Arthur Maitland may own half the waterfront properties, but Gavin Forrester has slowly built his kingdom out of crumbling apartments and old storefronts that were in desperate need of rehabilitation." He lowered his voice and spoke out of the side of his mouth. "People actually like Gavin in the Cove."

"So, why is that interesting?"

Xavier grinned. "I like you."

"I don't see why that makes any difference to my question."

He laughed outright and slapped my upper arm. "I really like you now. Refreshing to speak to someone who doesn't know all the Crescent Cove gossip. The founding families of this town— and Arthur Maitland and I are part of two of them—against the local boy made good. It's a story for the ages. Extra cherry on top is just how much Gavin hates Maitland."

"And…Forrester, was it?"

He nodded. "Got it in one."

"Forrester wants to outbid the elder statesman."

"You're a quick one."

I shook my head. "And you're not the big bad third option?"

"Me?" Xavier threw back his head. "I'm harmless."

"Then why are you here?"

He shrugged. "Bored." He nudged me with his shoulder. "Tell you a secret?"

"Why?"

"I really don't know why. I guess I just like talking to someone that's not going to gossip all over this damn town ten minutes after I tell them something."

"Definitely not. I don't know anyone here." I was just related to a few, but that didn't really apply to this. "Also, you seem to just like to talk."

"Man, you are ripe with the zingers today. I'm a Gemini—I live to talk."

"I have no idea what that means."

"Me neither, but a girlfriend told me that once." He grinned. "I just sold some shares from a little startup I invested in last year. I have a chunk of change and I'm looking for something to do with it. I used to come out here to make out during high school."

"Nostalgia?"

"Good as anything, right? But I do remember camping out on the beach down there. There's nothing like this strip of beach. A lot of Crescent Lake is rocky and no good for hanging by the water. Now, in the water—it's perfect. Just down the way is a rental place for watercrafts and boats. I was thinking this could be a great place for adults. There are tons of parks for the kids, but no real areas for date nights, nightlife, and that kind of thing."

So he wasn't just an airhead with money to burn.

He actually had been thinking about the future of owning a spot of land like this. Interesting.

"Small towns have a nightlife?"

"No. And I'm not talking a club. We'd never get that approved by the town hall, but a nice restaurant and maybe some bougie apartments, now that could be something."

"We?"

He laughed. "Sorry. Not sure why I said that. It's too easy to bounce stuff off of you."

"Strangely, I agree."

"To which part?"

"Both. I was thinking this would be a good area for the summer. Picnic tables and or umbrella-type tables. Maybe a patio to extend off the ancient eatery that used to be."

"Brantley's. Used to be the best sub shop in town until Jersey Angel's opened up ten years back. Location, location—it's right in the heart of Main Street. People stopped coming out here. Why the whole place started crumbling, to be honest. Wouldn't be an easy move to get people out here when they can get everything in town."

"Unless there were people living out here, as you said. Market to the young professionals with a little extra money to burn but who don't want to own a home yet."

He snapped his fingers. "Good thinking there. We are known for being a baby town and made for families, but there is an untapped potential here for the people not quite ready to settle down."

"Like you'll ever be ready to settle down, Hastings." Gavin Forrester climbed the hill toward us.

"Not in this lifetime," Xavier agreed amicably. "Gavin, meet Jude. He's interested in the property, as well. We were just future-casting for what we wanted to do with the beach and the old Brantley's eatery."

"Is that right?" Gavin nodded to me. "Are you from Turnbull or Laurel? Syracuse, maybe?" He glanced at the black overcoat I was wearing against the biting wind.

"Seattle."

His green eyes were quietly assessing. "Bit out of the way for you, isn't it?"

It might be, but maybe not forever. The town had an uncanny pull. And there was family here if I wanted to pursue it.

"I was in the area for work. It was just happenstance that I saw the auction announcement on Main Street."

"Happenstance?"

I shrugged. "Maybe it was serendipity."

"All right, gentlemen!" The bank auctioneer clapped from beside Maitland. "Shall we?"

Gavin turned and walked back down the hill to the two men as Xavier and I followed.

"Thank you for coming on this brisk afternoon. I was surprised to see anyone since it's so close to the holidays."

"I just bet," Gavin muttered.

"Let me tell you a little about the building, and the surrounding land as part of the deal."

Dennis droned on about the square footage of the building, the current zoning, and the surprising amount of land included. The starting bid set me back on my heels.

I hadn't realized there was that much land included.

Maitland shouted a price ten percent over the starting bid, and I bit back a hiss. Even with my well-padded account at the moment, I'd probably have to get a loan for additional funds.

Gavin shouted out a higher bid.

Maitland volleyed with another five percent increase.

Gavin's fists tightened as he increased, as well.

I glanced at Xavier, who opened his mouth to put his offer in. Then he stopped. "This might be crazy," he said under his breath.

"How crazy?" I asked.

Gavin's shoulders went back as he shouted another bid.

"I know this town and all the starched shirts in government. Maybe we go in together." Xavier's voice was barely above a whisper in the whipping wind.

Gavin was slightly in front of us, but he turned his head.

"The three of us?" I asked.

Gavin took a step back. "You'd be willing?"

"This is crazy," I muttered.

His green eyes locked on mine. "Maitland can't have this spot. He's going to bulldoze it all and kill the beach to turn it into a spa," he said under his breath.

Another step into a resort town.

Seven minutes from the town proper.

I wasn't even sure why I cared. But then I remembered the smiling Hamilton kids. I'd never thought about a future outside of my business, but I couldn't imagine I'd want to live in a town overflowing with elite tourists. The small-town flavor would fade into high-end shopping areas.

I'd seen it happen in Seattle.

The moneyed set pushed out the working class. Made it impossible for them to afford to stay there or make a life. Many neighborhoods had been decimated in the name of progress. But it didn't need to be like that.

It didn't need to be cold and lifeless like where I'd grown up.

"Keller?" Gavin asked.

I glanced at Xavier. This was probably the craziest thing I'd ever done. "You in?"

"Hell, yeah."

"What's our number?" Gavin whispered.

"What do we need?" I countered.

"Maitland is strapped from buying up so many properties." He rattled off a number that made my stomach bottom out.

I looked over my shoulder at the beach, the water, and the possibilities that whispered to me. "I'm in."

We were two strangers doing business with a shit-ton of money, but I'd never felt more alive in that moment. My gut was leading me here, and I was listening.

"Gentlemen?" Dennis spoke up. "Is that your final bid?"

Gavin went conservative and shouted out a ten percent increase to the last bid.

Maitland showed his first bit of nerves. He countered, but at a damn close margin.

"You sure about this?" Gavin said out of the side of his mouth. "Last chance to back out."

I wasn't sure about anything, but I was in the thick of it now. "Yes."

Gavin shouted a number that made me flinch.

"Holy shit," Xavier whispered.

Dennis cleared his throat. "Do you have proof of your ability to back up that number, Mr. Forrester?"

"I do."

"Mr. Maitland?" Dennis asked nervously.

Arthur Maitland bared his teeth then he turned on his heel, stalking back to his black Audi.

Xavier squeezed my arm. "Holy shit. We bought a goddamn strip mall."

"Christ, don't call it that," Gavin muttered. "We bought a future for Crescent Cove."

I hoped I wasn't making a mistake, but for the first time in far too long, I was excited about the prospect of the future.

The next half hour was a rundown on the steps to purchasing a foreclosed property. It was a bit of a tangle, which meant I'd have to stay an extra day in this town to get the paperwork going at the bank.

Small-town life, I was learning, meant the bank was already shut down for the day.

"This calls for a celebration. After spending that amount of money without a boat involved, I need something greasy and a beer." Xavier rubbed his hands. "And it's fucking cold."

"The Spinning Wheel?" Gavin tucked his hands into his jacket.

"Best greasy food with a beer it is."

"Feel like a Guinness?"

"Nah, not tonight."

"Where would this be for the guy who knows nothing about the town?" I asked.

"You will." Xavier laughed. "And you can follow me." He nodded to the sporty red number parked at the edge of the lookout. "That's me."

"I can't believe I just did that."

Xavier and Gavin both laughed.

"We practically signed in blood. No going back now." Gavin stomped his feet.

"I definitely need a beer."

"Then a beer you shall have." Xavier grinned. "See you guys there."

I followed them both out, Gavin in a much more sedate SUV to the rocket Xavier owned. We ate, drank far too much, and I made a few more questionable decisions with a local woman.

My first trip into Crescent Cove was not what I'd been expecting.

A couple days later, after I'd signed a chunk of my life away and written up the first draft of a brand-new business plan with two strangers, I found myself outside the gazebo decked out in all its Christmas finery.

I followed the footpaths to the pier.

It was Christmas Eve and families were outside walking off their early meals. A surprising family of ducks crossed in front of me, heading for a structure that looked much like a doghouse only larger.

Only in a small town did they build a winter house for the ducks.

I shook my head and climbed the steps to the pier to look out on the water one last time before I left.

A twelve-foot Christmas tree was my only company, but I needed the quiet.

It had been an eventful few days and I had a feeling it was just the beginning.

My phone buzzed in my pocket and pulled it out to find a text from my sister.

For now, it was back to Seattle.