“Oh, Charlotte,” he whispered. “What can I do to change your mind?”

  “You don’t have to. I already did,” she smiled.

  “So, you’re not leaving?” he asked.

  “No,” she smiled. “I’m not leaving.” She crawled over him, so she was straddling his waist.

  “That’s too bad,” he grinned at her, digging his fingers into her hips as he leaned up to kiss her.

  She pushed his chest down, “Too bad?”

  “Yeah,” he grinned wider. “I need to buy a house.”

  She smiled at him and kissed him lightly. “I happen to know a good real estate agent,” she whispered into his mouth.

  “Is she hot?” he asked.

  “Oh yeah,” she replied and nipped at his earlobe.

  “Does she take alternate forms of payment?”

  “What kinds of alternate payments are we talking about?” she asked, trailing her finger down the dip between his pectoral muscles.

  “This kind,” Logan said as he grabbed her waist and tossed her on the bed beside him so that he could straddle her. He moved down her body and kissed between her legs, “This kind,” he whispered. Charlotte writhed as the breath of his words sent an intense ripple of pleasure through her body.

  “She might make an exception—” Charlotte gasped. She couldn’t finish her sentence. Logan’s lips were on her and she couldn’t seem to form any more words except, “Oh, God.”

  They spent the morning lounging in bed, alternating between pleasuring each other and moaning in ecstasy together. It felt easy, right, and good.

  “Logan,” Charlotte said, tracing his abs as he absentmindedly stroked her hair.

  “Yes, baby.”

  “I’ve been thinking,” she said.

  “I can tell, I can practically see the steam coming from your ears.”

  “I think that I’m going to change the address on that paperwork… to this one.”

  “Really?” Logan sat up and pulled her in tightly next to him. She rested her cheek on his chest and could feel his heartbeat thudding against her face.

  “I think that there’s a lot of opportunity in Chance Rapids. Lauren and Tabitha are moving there, the economy is picking up, and they need a good realtor up there.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked. “I would love it if I could see you every day, Charlotte.”

  “I would like that too,” she replied. “And there’s this,” Charlotte rested her hand on the sheets over his package.

  Logan smiled. “Should we go home then?” he asked.

  “Yes, let’s go home, Logan,” she replied.

  And they did go back to Chance Rapids - later that day.

  Epilogue

  Logan Brush didn’t think of himself as the marrying type. Over the years he had dated some of the most beautiful women in the country, but that beauty always faded away into boredom. He looked over at the lineup of bridesmaids and couldn’t help but smile as he saw the woman who changed everything. Charlotte was beautiful inside and out, but it was their connection that kept their relationship growing – he felt closer to her every day; and for the first time in his life, he could imagine himself standing where Josh was now, waiting for his bride to walk down the aisle.

  He studied Josh’s face as the church doors opened and Megan walked in. She was radiant with joy, her bouquet of calla lilies held in front of her baby bump. Logan saw the tears spring up in Josh’s eye as he watched his bride walk down the aisle.

  Logan knew that he was going to marry Charlotte O’Hare. The last few weeks of his life had been the best. Even better than when he was traveling the world as a hockey player. The Bobcats had won the championship, some of his players were being scouted for the big leagues, his mom just celebrated six months of sobriety, and he and Charlotte had been spending almost every day together, making up for lost time.

  As the ceremony continued, Logan watched Charlotte. He had memorized the way that her shoulders sloped into her collarbone, the way that her eyes crinkled when she laughed, and the look in her eyes when she was softening up, letting her businesswoman façade fade and allowing the soft and caring Billie Jo Bunkman to come out and shine. He saw Billie Jo now, her dark hair falling over the strapless lilac-colored bridesmaid dress, as she watched Josh and Megan say their vows.

  As Josh and Megan kissed and the attendees of the small wedding cheered, he looked over at Charlotte. Their eyes met as he knew they would. He winked at her and she smiled back coyly.

  Spring had fully sprung in Chance Rapids and the wedding party was met with the bright warmth of the mid-afternoon sun. Crocuses and daffodils lined the street, the last of the snowbanks had finally melted, and the whole town smelled of cedar carried through the air by the meltwater in the rushing Chance Rapids River.

  The bridal party walked down to Glacier Park for photographs and the air grew cooler as they neared the freezing river. Logan pulled off his suit jacket and slid it over Charlotte’s shoulders. He hugged her from behind and she nuzzled into his neck, “You looked beautiful up there today,” he said, and he kissed her neck.

  “You clean up really well, Lolo Brush.” she turned, and ran her eyes up and down his body while reaching for his hand.

  The group posed for photos on the covered bridge that spanned the Chance River. The red bridge and white snow-capped peaks were the perfect background for the wedding photos.

  He saw Charlotte and Megan whispering to each other and glancing toward the groomsmen. He followed their gaze and knew exactly what they were whispering about because he had seen it too. The connection between Ariel and Freddie.

  Charlotte caught up with him and hooked her hand in the crook of his arm. “Do you see what I see,” she whispered.

  “Yep,” he whispered back. “And thank God. I hope that this will get his mind off Serena. It’s all he’s been able to talk about this past week, his big date.”

  “Ugh,” Charlotte lamented.

  “I know,” Logan replied. “Hey, come for a walk with me.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the group.

  “We have to get to the reception,” she protested.

  “It will just take a minute, it’s more of a detour, really.”

  Charlotte stopped resisting his pull and took two quick steps to match his stride. “Where are we going?”

  “It’s a surprise.” He hoped that she wouldn’t feel the slight tremble in his hand.

  She didn’t respond, but raised her eyebrows and tilted her head as they rounded the corner onto Main Street.

  Charlotte had been extremely busy the past few weeks, and while Logan knew she was a shrewd businesswoman, seeing it in person was another thing. He had to admit that it got him hard watching her in action. She had purchased one of the storefronts on Main Street and had hired Josh to renovate it for the new location of O’Hare Real Estate. She had helped Lauren buy a cute home three doors down from Josh and Megan on Bristlecombe Street and had convinced Logan to purchase land on Sugar Peaks Way, so he could build his own ‘cabin’.

  He submitted the paperwork for a two-acre parcel down the street from Charlotte’s home. She suggested that he stay at her place until his house was built. They both knew that it was too early to officially move in together, so the construction of his house was a great excuse to live together under the guise of a ‘temporary’ arrangement. He wanted to be near her, wake up with her, make her smile, and go to bed with her. He knew that the living arrangement wasn’t temporary and he had the feeling she did too.

  She saw the crane in front of her office installing the custom iron sign and squealed. “Is this what you wanted to show me?” she gasped, her gaze focused up as the workmen drilled the sign into her building. “It looks amazing,”

  “It does look amazing, Char.” He smiled at her enthusiasm. “But that’s not what I wanted to show you.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Okay,” she said hesitantly, but let him lead her by the hand to the Sugar Peaks Café.

  This is what I wanted to show you.

  Logan had hired the blacksmith to forge an iron bench, and it sat finished on the porch of the Sugar Peaks Café.

  “That’s a nice bench,” Charlotte replied. She leaned in closer to read the inscription of the bronze plaque, tracing the words with her slender fingers. He couldn’t see her face but saw her back heave. She turned and sat on the bench, her full skirt draping onto the floorboards of the porch. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with tears. “It’s beautiful,” she said.

  Behind Charlotte, the inscription read, “Sharon’s Spot.”

  “I love you, Charlotte O’Hare,” he said and sat beside her. She buried her face in his shoulder. “I love you, Logan Brush.”

  Accidental Chances

  Chance Rapids Book 3

  One

  Serena pulled back the sliding glass doors and stepped out onto the balcony of her high-rise condo. As she suspected, even thirty stories up, the summer air was hot, which meant it would be scorching at street level. She smiled. She had the perfect outfit for her date tonight. She was meeting a guy named Thomas, but he pronounced it tow-mass. He checked all of her boxes: tall, banker, six-pack abs.

  She stepped back into her studio loft, pulled on a silk sundress, and spun her long blonde hair into a messy topknot. Unlike her friends, Serena loved the sweltering weather – it gave her face a dewy glow that couldn’t be created with makeup alone. A little sweat went a long way in her photographs.

  She put her phone into a tripod to take a photo of herself leaning over her balcony. She knew her angles and how to look contemplative, yet sexy. She set the timer and arched her back unnaturally, not enough for the camera to pick it up, but enough for her ass to pop. Fifty shots later, she selected the winner and set to work applying filters until she was happy with the finished product. She flipped through her quote book and selected one about horizons and light and posted it to her social media account. Satisfied, she propped her phone up on the ledge of her medicine cabinet and videoed her makeup routine. She made sure to hold up the products that she was being paid to use and wax poetic about how she couldn’t live without them. She posted the video and checked the number of likes on her contemplative balcony shot. Six hundred so far, not too shabby. She smiled and dropped her phone into her handbag, slipped her feet into her favorite gladiator sandals and headed out the door to meet Thomas, hoping that he would be different from all the rest.

  He was standing outside of the restaurant looking at his phone as her car pulled up. She could tell it was him and was pleasantly surprised that he was just as handsome as in his photos. He looked like he’d stepped off the pages of a sailing magazine, wearing a pressed linen shirt, Bermuda shorts, and Top-Siders.

  She sashayed up to him and wanted to ask him where he had docked his yacht, but instead just smiled and said, “Hi.” She rarely let her humor shine until she really knew someone. Not everyone got her dry sense of humor.

  “Hi,” he said and smiled back without showing his teeth. “Shall we?” he gestured to the tapas bar and opened the door for her. They squeezed into the narrow entranceway of the restaurant and Serena shivered as the air conditioning blasted on her shoulders.

  Thomas grinned at the pretty hostess and leaned onto the sleek black desk. “Trent, for two.”

  The dark-haired hostess consulted her book and then shook her head, “I have a Trent at 9 p.m.”

  “I must have booked it under my first name,” he chuckled. “Thomas, party of two for seven.” He leaned onto the hostess stand, so he was only inches from her face.

  The girl trailed her pointy fingernail down the lines of the appointment book, “Oh, here it is, Thomas,” she giggled.

  Serena watched as her date blatantly flirted with the hostess. She cleared her throat and Thomas turned and smiled at her.

  “Follow me,” the hostess said without meeting Serena’s eyes.

  Serena trailed behind Thomas and the hostess. At the table, she slipped into the dark booth and rubbed her arms to combat the goosebumps that had erupted all over her body. Thomas sat across from her and pulled the nautical sweater that had been draped over his shoulders on over his head.

  “Your server will be with you shortly to take your drink order,” the hostess said.

  “I’ll take a scotch, neat,” he said.

  Serena knew then and there that this date was going to be a disaster. First of all, this spoiled prep school jerk had blatantly flirted with the hostess in front of her. Secondly, he didn’t seem to notice that she was freezing her ass off in her cute sundress, and thirdly, he was rude to the waitstaff.

  “I’ll get your server to take your drink order.” The hostess’s flirtatious tone was gone.

  Thomas shook his head and then registered that Serena was seated across the table from him. “What kind of restaurant is this?”

  It’s a tapas restaurant you idiot, she wanted to say. She knew what he meant. The man wanted to be waited on hand and foot, and he wanted his drink yesterday. She was already counting the seconds until she could go back home. “I’m sure our server will be here soon.”

  “I could die of thirst before then,” he grinned.

  Did he think he was being funny? ‘Drink your water asshat,’ Serena thought, as she took a sip of her own.

  “Ah, here she is.” Her date lit up as an even prettier brunette approached the table.

  “Would you two like to start with some cocktails?”

  Serena opened her mouth to order, but Thomas interrupted. “I’ll take a scotch on the rocks,” he said.

  The server looked to Serena with a raised eyebrow. “I’ll have a white wine spritzer, thank you.” Serena had worked countless waitress jobs when she was in school and went out of her way to be friendly to people who worked in the service industry.

  Thomas Trent looked like he came from old money, but his boorish behavior had new money written all over it. Serena had seen them all.

  When their drinks arrived, Thomas pulled out the little red straw, tossed it onto the tablecloth, and took a sip of his drink.

  “Cheers,” Serena said and held her glass up.

  Thomas swallowed his scotch and clinked his glass to hers, “To a great evening.”

  She smiled and held in her eye roll as she sipped her spritzer. “I’ve heard great things about this restaurant,” she said as she perused the menu.

  “The food is great and the service is usually much better,” he said, as he took another sip of his drink and shoved the menu aside.

  There had been nothing wrong with the service that evening. “Would you like to share a few small plates?” she asked. “I was thinking about the coconut shrimp.”

  “Ugh,” Thomas groaned and leaned in as if to whisper Serena a secret. “I only eat seafood when I can see the ocean. You should come with me to my beach house this summer.”

  She wondered if this line worked with other women. Were they blinded by hints of a beach house? She thought about pulling the plug on the date. She already knew she didn’t like Thomas, but she had heard such good reviews about the chef. Could she put up with his arrogance for another hour or so for some succulent shrimp? Her stomach growled. She had her answer. She plastered on her biggest fake smile. “Where is your beach house?”

  “It’s on the shore. You can hear the waves from all the bedrooms, even the one over the carriage house, the one where I’d take you,” he winked.

  “Sounds quite peaceful.” She didn’t know what else to say. Thankfully, she was saved by the reappearance of their server.

  “Did you have any questions about the menu?” she asked.

  “No, we’re ready to order,” Thomas said. “We’ll take a bottle of your merlot, the escargot, the carpaccio, and the samosas.” He reached for Serena’s menu and handed them to the server.

  “And the shrimp, and grilled calamari,” Serena added. View of the ocean rule be damned, she wanted some seafood. She smiled sweetly at Thomas, he narrowed his eyes at her and then shrugged. “Someone’s got an appetite tonight.”

  Serena spent the evening asking Thomas questions about his job - banker; about his hobbies - squash and golf (surprise, surprise); and his family. He was long-winded in his responses but didn’t ask anything about her in return. The date could’ve been a one-man show, a monologue of his accomplishments and possessions. She zoned out. Big time. She wondered if she remembered to put her towels in the dryer and whether the frozen yogurt shop would still be open after she left the restaurant, all while nodding periodically as she watched Thomas’s lips move.

  After what seemed like three years, the sommelier opened the bottle of merlot and the server delivered their plates of food. Serena immediately popped one of the coconut shrimp into her mouth and regretted it instantly as the billion-degree shellfish seared the inside of her cheeks, she fanned her hand in front of her mouth and blew out steam like a dragon.

  Thomas shook his head in disgust, but she didn’t care. She was hungry as hell, and the faster she ate, the faster she could get home and back into her comfy bed. She admired the perfect grill marks on the calamari and snapped a photo before she cut off a piece, allowing the shrimp a little time to cool.

  “How is it?” Thomas asked the first question he had asked her all evening.

  “The calamari is delicious, the lemon and capers are a nice touch. Would you like to try it?”

  “Sure,” he said. He reached across the table and jabbed his fork into the remainder of the calamari and popped it in his mouth.

  Serena frowned.

  “Not bad,” he said through his mouthful.

  Molten lava shrimp be damned, Serena popped the remainder in her mouth in quick succession. She drained her spritzer, removed her napkin from her lap and folded it on the table. Her foot bumped the table leg as she attempted to cross her legs, but as she shifted in her chair, she realized that it wasn’t the table leg, Thomas had stretched out and was trying to play footsies with her. She turned her body sideways and drummed her fingers on the table.