A jilted bride. A jaded divorce lawyer. A full tank of gas. What could go wrong?Rhys: As a cutthroat New York City divorce lawyer, it’s my job to end marriages. Lifetime commitment? It’s for the birds. I do everything in my power to avoid it…until my grandfather’s will says that to save our family’s land, I have to become a wedding planner.
Worse, my first client is Eden Becker. She’s the sunshine-y disaster whose ex-husband I represented a few years ago in their divorce. Eden’s first marriage was a nightmare, so why does she think another one is a good idea?
Turns out, I’m not wrong. Her jerkwad fiancé jilts her, and as her wedding planner, I’m also her getaway vehicle. Now we’re on the road together—and all my complicated feelings about this beautiful, naive optimist are in the car, too. Along with a wild attraction I’ve been fighting since we first faced off across a conference table.
If this road trip goes on too much longer, I’m going to do something I’ll regret forever.
Like fall in love.
A spicy, grumpy-sunshine, jilted bride, enemies to lovers, standalone road trip romantic comedy set in the beloved small town of Rush Creek.
“I have to tell you something, and I need you to stay as calm as possible until we talk it through.”
These are the first words my wedding planner, Hanna Wilder, says to me when I arrive at her office for our two-weeks-before appointment.
I instantly start dredging up worst-case scenarios: The officiant has taken a last-minute ministerial sabbatical to Bali. The baker dropped the wedding cake, and there’s a worldwide shortage of ganache. Hanna accidentally double-booked the venue with one of those teen-wunderkind summer circuses, and we’ll be getting married to a backdrop of fourteen-year-olds hanging from scarves.
“Ohhhkay,” I manage.
“I promise everything’s going to be all right. I’ll be there every step of the way, overseeing things from the sidelines—”
“Are you okay?” I ask, gesturing in the general direction of her relatively small but definitely pregnant belly. She’d warned me that her previous pregnancy had been high risk and promised smooth sailing even if she had to go on bed rest.
“Oh, I’m totally fine.” She waves a hand dismissively. “It’s just—” She closes her eyes. “Have a seat.”
Warily, I do, and she closes her office door and sits behind the desk across from me. Photographs of beaming couples line the walls, and favors from weddings she’s coordinated clutter her desk. She leans forward. “Have you by any chance heard anything about my grandfather’s will?”
“There were some rumors,” I say carefully. Now I wish I’d listened more closely.
“Right. Here’s the thing.” She bites her lip. I realize this is the first time I’ve ever seen Hanna look nervous, and that twists my own nerves into a bundle. “My grandfather’s will requires each of my brothers to do something…out of character, or there will be…consequences. To me. Well, to all of us, really. So far, because they’re not total dicks—well, about sixty-seven-point-eight percent of the time anyway—they’ve always complied with the will. And in this case, my brother…” She shakes her head and stops. “I can’t believe this is my life,” she says and then points down at the floor.
“You’re a real bastard, you know that?” she asks the wide planks. “I hope you’re enjoying yourself down there.” She returns her gaze to me. “I know you and Rhys have a history—”
Oh, shit.
To be clear, Hanna’s brother Rhys and I don’t have a history history. He and I weren’t an item or anything like that.
Almost the opposite.
Rhys represented my asshole ex-husband in my ugly divorce when I still lived in New York City.
Picture Heathcliff—or better yet, picture a young, short-haired Severus Snape. Tall, dark, broody, and so deeply scornful he barely acknowledged my presence. I think he made eye contact with me once, and when he did, he looked away like I was a sixty-year-old guy who’d exposed himself on the subway.
And meanwhile, he dismantled everything that mattered to me with a ruthless precision.
Savings: gone.
Inheritance: gone.
Business: nearly gone, but for a last-minute save by my lawyer.
And my beloved Milo—my adorable, snuggly rescue pup—in half-time custody with my ex, who didn’t even want us to get the dog in the first place.
He deprived me of six months a year with my dog.
So whatever Hanna is about to say about Rhys, if it concerns me and my wedding, it’s definitely not good.
Hanna’s eyes scan my face like she’s trying to read something there, and then she heaves a big sigh and says, “I’m so, so sorry, Eden, but because of my grandfather’s will, Rhys is taking over the final stages of planning your wedding.”
* * *
“You’re joking.”
“I assure you, she’s not.”
The voice is deep. Smooth. Commanding. It sends a ripple of sensation over my skin, like a warm breeze at the beach, and I turn. The man standing in the doorway is six foot four of scowling antihero—dark hair, dark eyes, and a slight, cruel curve to one side of his mouth.
And two years later, he still won’t meet my eyes. Instead he pins his gaze on his sister, eyebrows slightly lifted.
“This is my brother Rhys Hott,” Hanna says unnecessarily. “Rhys, this is—”
“I know who she is.”
Right.
He crosses his arms. If someone can sneer without altering the lines of their face at all, Rhys is doing that.
Yeah, this should be fun.
Beauty salon… and the BeastStill, I’m a hard worker. I’ve made a fortune off my scientific discoveries, and if I can engineer groundbreaking drugs, I can do anything, right? Not according to Sonya Rossi, the spa’s smoking hot and relentlessly perky manager. My grumpy approach is testing even sunshine-y Sonya’s patience. Meanwhile, I’m not sure whether I want to rain on her parade—or kiss the smile off her face.
Then the universe throws another curveball, putting us under the same roof. The closer Sonya gets, the more I like it—and her. I want to get to know her better and let her see the side of me I never show people. Until now, I’ve only believed in what I can touch, sense, and prove. I definitely don’t believe in love… but Sonya's making me wish I could.
USA Today bestselling author Serena Bell writes contemporary romance with heat, heart, and humor. A former journalist, Serena has always believed that everyone has an amazing story to tell if you listen carefully, and you can often find her scribbling in her tiny garret office, mainlining chocolate and bringing to life the tales in her head.
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