CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER ONE

Lucy stood in the middle of her small bookstore and reluctantly admitted that she missed her old life very much. The thirty-day reset she had committed to was more challenging than she had anticipated, and it made her wonder if two weeks wouldn't be a more reasonable option.

Stacking up rationalizations for a shorter stint like a pile of pancakes, she told herself things hadn't been that out of control. Had there been one or five public outbursts she regretted? Of course! She wasn't a robot, after all, and anyone who found themselves twisted up with the town's prince of bad behavior would've done the very same thing.

At least, she assumed that's how someone who possessed a modicum of self-respect would behave… but then again, she wasn't all that proficient at predicting human behavior.

But enough about that bad business; she was on the right track now and behaving so well that a run for public office at some point in the future wasn't entirely out of the question.

Unfortunately, the perfect comportment was beyond boring, and she was well on her way to drowning in the doldrums.

Perhaps there was some sort of middle ground she could inhabit. Tapping her nails against the wide belt of her dress, she tried to formulate ideas that would allow her to escape the rinse-and-repeat cycle she was trapped in.

Affairs of the heart certainly weren't an option since that's what caused the most recent kerfuffle in the first place. An adventure in a far-flung locale where tropical drinks were served, and international spies were more common than flies could be an option. Was a side hustle in the espionage game just what she was looking for?

Sighing, she immediately dismissed the idea since she'd never been able to fly under the radar, and her secret-keeping skills were sketchy at best. Two things that were likely vital if one were flying across international datelines with government secrets.

Perhaps she should have another go at gaining admission into the Haven Ladies' Society. They hadn't outright refused her the last time she inquired, so there could very well be an opening she hadn't yet exploited. No one under fifty had ever been admitted, but that didn't mean she couldn't be the first. A small thrill coursed through her veins, and she knew joining the group could be the perfect answer to her burgeoning boredom.

Was it essential to be completely clear on the dirty details of the righteous acts the women participated in? Absolutely not! She would happily go along with whatever activities the group decided to engage in.

Perhaps she could offer to babysit her mother's horrible bird in exchange for a ringing endorsement… or see if she could get her grandmother snockered enough to agree to sponsor her application. She let out a gust of disgust and knew that neither scenario was likely. She'd already tried to coerce them into supporting her application and had gotten nowhere.

Unable to come up with another possibility, she ambled toward the front of the store and watched the sun move across the front window. When it hit the display of craft books, she noticed how much dust had accumulated and decided a little housekeeping was in order. She picked up a pink duster, flicked it over the tower dedicated to all things creative, and noticed the beguiling cover of a book about beading. Would a glue gun and a bedazzler keep her sufficiently entertained until something more delicious came along? Perhaps a hobby would cure her lassitude. She popped the book open and perused the pages, noticing several appealing projects. There was nothing she loved better than a bit of bling, and this particular craft offered all kinds of intriguing possibilities. She moved on to a tome about macramé and pictured a knot-filled future. Being able to truss something or… someone up was a skill that could not be underestimated. Perhaps she should give both a go and see which one was a better fit.

Before she could decide if a third option was necessary, she heard her name and glanced up, seeing her best friend. "Hello, gorgeous Gigi. What brings you by today?"

"My computer is sluggish, and I'm hoping you have a book that will teach me how to fix it."

"Why don't you call he who shall not be named to take a look?"

Gigi twisted her mouth into disapproval. "I would rather stick one of your stilettos in my eye than put a penny in that man's coffer."

Lucy snapped the macramé book closed. "I appreciate the loyalty but want you to know I'm no longer stoking that particular fire of condemnation." She straightened the stack of books. "If you need tech support, schedule an appointment."

"Really? I thought we were about to pour gas on your righteous anger and see if we could burn everything in its path."

Lucy took a moment to enjoy a picture of what that could look like and then reluctantly pushed it away. "I cannot allow myself to indulge in yummy revenge." As she tapped her chin, a smile formed slowly. "Unless the Haven Ladies' Society lets me in and makes it a part of my initiation."

Gigi snorted. "You have another twenty years before that becomes possible."

"They didn't give me an absolute no the last time I inquired."

"And they didn't give you an application either."

"Things change, and for all we know, they could be at the precipice of allowing in younger women."

"We don't need those old birds to back us up," Gigi said confidently. "You and I have all the brain power and creativity necessary for crafting the perfect plan."

"Ken doesn't deserve our attention, and we should save our creativity for something worthwhile." Seeing Gigi's shoulders slump made her momentarily regret her vow to live a more spiritual life. There was nothing her best friend liked less than having proper payback ripped from her hands, and she couldn't blame her.

"Are you certain?" Gigi asked hopefully. "His light stalking and new habit of driving past the store several times a day shouldn't be ignored."

"If the man wants to waste time and gas, then so be it." Lucy glanced at the book on beading. "I'm about to take up some interesting hobbies and can't be distracted by the lothario of Haven misbehaving."

"Fine," Gigi huffed. "Just know that when you're done with this," she waved her hand, "prudish view of justice… I'll be ready."

"I appreciate it but don't want to give you false hope." Lucy gave her friend a warm smile and told herself that no slope was slippery enough for her to slide into public displays of distress. Her days of losing her cool in front of half the town and yelling like a banshee were behind her, and she didn't plan on providing cheap entertainment anytime soon.

"Just know I will intervene when you buy a day-old birthday cake from the market." She tucked a springy curl behind her ear. "In the strongest manner possible."

"Mediocre physical relations do not require carb therapy, and any lingering melancholy you see is due to a lack of a new adventure and nothing more."

Gigi tilted her head. "Something else is contributing to your glow down."

Lucy let out a sigh. "This new leaf business is boring, and sticking with my plan to respiritualize my life is more difficult than I anticipated."

"Of course it is," Gigi exclaimed. "Which is why you should give it up immediately. A staid existence is the very worst option for you and can only lead to… an unfortunate explosion down the road."

Lucy bit her bottom lip and pictured all the fun they usually found—everything from skinny dipping in the lake when there was a full moon to dancing at the Roadhouse bar. And one couldn't forget the… lengths they went to so that their reign as the Trivia queens of Haven went uninterrupted. Those were shenanigans all in themselves.

Wiping the entertaining antics from her mind, she smiled piously. "I'm not interested in making Ken pay for his bad behavior but know that I need to find some kind of outlet for my… enthusiasms."

"Expanding your horizons is a fab idea, but please don't underestimate Ken's obsessive behavior." She shivered. "The dude is giving off some nasty vibes."

"I can't disagree but doubt it will become a real problem since he lacks the fortitude to make himself an obstacle in my quest for happiness. With any luck, he'll have another bird in his nest before month's end, and all this stalkerish falderal will be abandoned."

"Here's to hoping," Gigi mumbled.

She studied a bauble on her finger and hoped her prediction would come true. Because teaching the man where the hard line was drawn was not something she needed to add to her to-do list. "By the way, are we still on for Bea's yoga class in the park on Sunday?"

"Absolutely!" Gigi checked her watch. "Oops, I better run since a client is meeting me in ten minutes."

A flash of red caught Lucy's attention, and she assumed Ken was doing his daily drive-by. "I'll call you tonight."

"Perfect."

Lucy waved to her friend's retreating figure and then strode toward the front, seeing Ken's red car turn. "Why do men become so fixated after they're rejected?" Knowing there was no good answer, she walked out the door and checked the pink geraniums that filled the window boxes. She pinched off a few dead leaves and rearranged the display cart she kept at the entrance.

The roar of a motorcycle engine caught her attention, and she looked up, seeing an Indian Black Horse roll down Main Street slowly. "And who might you be?" She didn't recognize the bike or the rider and tried to remember if there'd been gossip about a new arrival.

She lifted her hand against the afternoon sun and watched the stranger tip his helmet in her direction as he slowly passed. "Swagger to spare," she muttered as a frisson of excitement skittered across her nerves.

Not sure if she should welcome the sensation, she gasped when the rider parked in front of her mother's store. "I definitely shouldn't look." Spinning around, she rearranged a box of free books she had put together and heard several women giggle. Cutting her eyes to the side, she noted a gaggle of local beauties staring at the newcomer.

It seemed she wasn't the only one curious about whether the man and machine matched.

Unable to resist, she turned and watched the newcomer push himself off his bike. Studying the man's broad shoulders and slim hips like an art scholar, she sucked in a breath.

Poetry.

Masculine freaking poetry that was elegant in its brutality. In Haven!

The sexy brute slid off his helmet, and she let out a disbelieving snort when his lantern jaw was revealed, along with beautiful cheekbones and a mouth so lush that it should be considered illegal. Not able to tear her eyes away, she noted the black jeans molded to his thick thighs and how lovingly his white T-shirt showcased a set of bulging biceps that were definitely not acquired in a gym.

Tan, solid and still.

Who was this alluring beast of a Buddha?

The stranger surveyed his surroundings, and she swallowed loudly when his eyes landed on hers.

Not one to shrink from attention, she pushed herself to her full height, slid her hand over her size fourteen hips, and gave him the same careful perusal he was giving her.

Did the man knock up women by simply sitting close?

It seemed impossible that he wouldn't.

Dredging up what little self-control she possessed, she tipped her chin in acknowledgment and then slowly strolled into the store on shaky navy-blue stilettos. She closed the door quietly and prayed that the inked-up anti-prince was just passing through town.

The promises she'd made about a man-free life didn't need to be tested by a sexy transient Casanova wandering about since the construction on her newly erected emotional walls wasn't nearly complete. Nor was the moat or flanking towers.

Standing to the left of the large front window, she watched the man step toward the store and slide off his sunglasses. The too-handsome stranger blessed her with a delicious, inviting smile, and it took everything she had not to give in to a swoon. Inhaling the mother of all yoga breaths, she firmly instructed herself not to move in his direction. Regrettably, her feet didn't listen and took two small tentative steps on their own.

The shrill sound of the store phone stopped her, and she gasped. "That was close." Retreating quickly, she silently thanked whoever was calling for breaking the spell.

"All is well," she muttered. "Not going to fall off the wagon and get myself tangled up with temptation."

Not today and certainly not tomorrow.