She wasn’t crazy. Her fiancé was a lying, cheating, son of a gun.

  Tears streamed down her face as she tried to keep the little car on the road. Yes, it was bad that he was cheating on her, but in some way, she felt relief. A part of her always knew that he wasn’t the guy for her. The worst part wasn’t the deception of her fiancé.

  No.

  She had seen those watermelon socks a million times before. On her best friend’s feet, usually tucked under her as they drank wine together.

  That. That was the worst part.

  That day she lost her fiancé and her best friend.

  Two

  “Hey, Chuck.” Only one person called him that. Charlie paused mid-polish and looked up from the already glimmering bar top and tossed the towel at his best friend. Freddie knew that Charlie hated the shortened form of his name –and he used it all the time.

  “What’s up, Fred.” Charlie laughed, lobbing the equally bad short form back at his friend. Even though he hated Chuck, it was still a million times better than Fred.

  Freddie sat down at the bar and handed the towel back to Charlie.

  “It’s a little early, even for you,” Charlie checked his watch, it was three-thirty in the afternoon.

  “I wanted to talk to you about the electrical work for your brewpub,” Freddie said.

  “Okay.” Charlie grabbed his notebook from under the bar and pulled the pen out from behind his ear.

  “And maybe have a beer…” Freddie smiled.

  “Of course.” Charlie poured two of his latest creations into frosty beer steins and came around the bar to take a seat beside Freddie.

  “Cheers.” Freddie held up his mug and met Charlie’s with a dull clunk.

  “Cheers,” Charlie echoed. He took a small sip and waited in anticipation as his friend took a bigger one. “What do you think?” Charlie asked, expecting a lukewarm response. Freddie wasn’t exactly the target audience for his latest creation, a hoppy ale with a secret ingredient.

  “It’s really good.” Freddie smiled and took another sip. “I could drink this all night long.”

  Charlie smiled and breathed out a sigh of relief. “It’s my flagship summer beer. I put a secret ingredient in there. Can you guess what it is?”

  Freddie tilted his head, smelled the beer, and then took another sip. “You know, I do recognize something in here. It reminds me of Serena when she comes home from her yoga classes.”

  Serena was Freddie’s sexy as hell Instagram model, turned Chance Rapids local. Charlie couldn’t believe that the girl who showed up to town in six-inch heels, now lived with a local electrician and wore hiking boots. “Sweaty?” Charlie raised his eyebrows.

  “No,” Freddie laughed. “Not the hot yoga.” He took another sip. “It’s lavender!” he shouted.

  “I’m impressed.” Charlie laughed. If Freddie liked his lavender brew, that meant it was going to be a hit. “I still haven’t figured out a name for it.”

  Freddie drummed his fingertips on the bar. “Just like you haven’t named your brewery yet.”

  “I’ve narrowed it down,” Charlie replied. Naming the brewpub seemed like such a big, permanent step. Once he chose the name it would be almost impossible to change it. The idea of picking one of the names scrawled on the whiteboard in the back office made his palms sweaty just thinking about it.

  Freddie sipped the beer and then tapped his cheek with his rough finger. “Hmmm. How about Charlie’s Girly Brew?”

  Charlie rolled his eyes. “I shouldn’t have told you about the lavender.”

  “Nah, man. It’s really good stuff.” He turned Charlie’s notebook around and sketched a quick outline of the brewpub. “I was thinking about this setup for the pot lights.” He scratched x’s across the paper.

  “You’re the expert.” Charlie glanced at the drawing. “I trust you.”

  “Right answer,” Freddie finished his drink.

  “Another?” Charlie asked. To his surprise, Freddie pushed the glass away. “I’ve got to get to a job.”

  “On a Friday night? What’s really going on?” Charlie put the mug into the glasswasher.

  “I took on an extra job. The new flower shop.” Freddie pushed back from the bar and pulled on his well worn ‘Get Electrified’ hat.

  “Hold on a minute there. That will be eight bucks.” Charlie held out his hand for payment.

  “Really?” Freddie raised his eyebrows, then pulled a ten-dollar bill out of his wallet and flattened it out on the bar.

  Charlie made a show of snatching it up. He usually let Freddie have one or two freebies, but not today. “You can’t show up to my construction site on the weekend, but you’re working on a Friday night – for a pretty blond. You can damn well pay for your beer,” he laughed, but there was a hint of frustration. The project had taken twice as long as he anticipated, and it wasn’t anywhere near completion.

  “I’m just waiting on materials, as soon as those pot lights come in, I’ll work day and night to get them installed for you.”

  Charlie took the ten in his fingers and snapped it a couple of times before putting it in the register. There weren’t any big box stores in town, and with all of the recent road closures due to floods, what would take a day to be delivered in the city, could take weeks to find its way to Chance Rapids. He sighed. “I know. Thanks, bud.”

  “How did you know that she’s a pretty blond?” Freddie stopped on his way to the door.

  Charlie felt his cheeks redden and was thankful the blush was concealed by this thick dark beard. “I caught a glimpse of her the other day.”

  “I think she’s single.” Freddie grinned.

  “Get out of here.” Charlie snapped the bar towel in Freddie’s direction.

  Single? He polished the row of martini glasses that were rarely used. How could a woman that gorgeous not already be married? And why would she choose Chance Rapids to start a flower shop? He shook his head, trying to get her smile out of his mind. Women like her didn’t last long in this town. He’d seen it time and time again. Chance Rapids looks romantic from afar, but when these women realize that it isn’t a small-town utopia, that their Hallmark life is hard work, they always pack up and leave.

  He played it cool with Freddie, but there were a couple of reasons he hadn’t been able to get that woman off his mind since she walked into the construction site last week. One, she was drop-dead gorgeous; and two, the nagging feeling that he recognized her, that he knew her from somewhere. When that happened, it wasn’t good. Before he moved to Chance Rapids, he had been a bit of a player. Could she have been one in the line of one night stands he’d had in college before he dropped out?

  She was going to be his neighbor. He needed to figure it out.

  Three

  It hadn’t been an easy decision, but as Emma navigated her car down the hill that led to Chance Rapids, excitement filled her gut. It was the first time in six months that an emotion other than betrayal had overcome her body. As the colorful downtown houses came into view, she felt excitement and anticipation. She didn’t know why she had picked Chance Rapids. She was a city girl, through and through, but with the city came noise – and after finding out her best friend had been sleeping with her fiancé, she wanted to go somewhere quiet and, she hated to admit it – escape. Hibernate. Repair.

  The first thing that had gone into the recycling bin was her bridal magazines. She and Alison had pored over those damn magazines, and when Emma flipped through the dog-eared pages featuring her dream gown – a princess ballroom style, tears had filled her eyes. She tried to rip the magazine in two, but the damn thing was so robust, it defeated her. She slammed the girthy book to the ground and grabbed some scissors from the kitchen drawer. Destroying the images of her perfect day was a cathartic thing to do, right?

  The magazine had fallen open to an article about the next ‘big’ wedding locations – and a quaint mountain town, complete with wildflowers and snow-capped peaks caught her eye. Instead of demolishing the magazine, she slid down the kitchen wall and flipped through the pages, back and forth, reading and re-reading the article. She tore the destination pages out of the magazine and rolled them into a tube - creasing them didn’t feel right. The rest of the shiny pages went into the recycling bin, and even though Emma didn’t put much stock into the whole, trusting the universe thing, she decided to go with it. Since she didn’t know what to do or where to go, she might as well pack up her life and head for the hills, literally, after graduation.

  She pulled into the driveway of the tiny Chance Rapids rental. The bungalow was bigger than the cookie-cutter townhouse she had shared with Adam and a fraction of the price. When her realtor, a pretty broker named Charlotte, had told her the rent, she had almost fallen over. The two joked that in the city, there would’ve been an extra zero on the price.

  The white picket fence had almost been too much – the place was perfect, like a movie set. Emma ran her fingertips along the top of the fence and paused to smell one of the mountain roses that had just bloomed.

  “Emma,” a voice called from the back yard.

  She bypassed the front door and headed to the back yard where her landlord, a handsome older man named Jimmy was mowing the lawn with one of those old fashioned clickety manual mowers. He wiped his brow and smiled. “How are ya doing?”

  “I’m good,” Emma said. And she meant it.

  “Are those tradesmen showing up on time?” he asked.

  Emma had been warned that the local labor force wasn’t overly reliable, that they would often skip work to go mountain biking, or if it was winter and a big powder day, the whole town shuttered its doors and headed to Sugar Peaks.

  “So far,” she smiled.

  “That’s good to hear,” Jimmy grinned. The man had golden skin and perfect teeth “My camper is packed and I’m heading out of town tomorrow. I’m going to give you the name of the local kid, Ethan, who is going to take care of the lawn while I’m gone.”

  Emma wanted to offer to do it herself, but knew that with wedding season coming up, and the shop still weeks away from completion, she had enough on her plate. “Okay, Jimmy. Sounds good.”

  The house on Aspen Trail was the first rental she had looked at, and as soon as she walked in, knew that it was perfect and had offered full price. Jimmy, the owner, was particular about who lived in his home, and it came with a laundry list of rules. He was heading to Alaska on a camping trip for the summer, and the rental term was just long enough for Emma to feel like she had a home, but not permanent enough to be scary.

  Jimmy wiped his brow with his purple bandana and went back to cutting the grass, his muscled arms gleaming with sweat. Even though he was probably twenty years older than Emma’s twenty-two, she felt a hint of a blush creep along her neckline. Jimmy was the first man she’d checked out since her life had fallen to pieces.

  Stop checking out your landlord, she whispered to herself and hurried into the house to get ready for her meeting with the electrician. She slipped out of her strappy sandals and into a pair of work boots. The heavy steel-toed footwear felt foreign on her feet, but she knew that if she showed up to the job site in heels, no one would take her seriously. She plodded down the street, the architectural drawings gripped tightly under her arm, her hair blowing in the warm breeze. Her heart was full as she smiled and offered a hello as she responded to every single person she passed on the way. Before moving to Chance Rapids, she thought that strangers only said hi on the street in movies.

  The door to her shop was wide open and she was met with the smell of sawdust as she stepped inside. “Hello?” she shouted.

  A drill screamed and a compressor roared to life, shaking the exposed subfloor. Emma followed the sounds and was met with the wide grin of her electrician, a cute guy named Freddie. “Hi,” he paused with the drill against one of the metal studs.

  “How’s it going?” she smiled, and her gaze followed the white wires that Freddie had strung since her last visit.

  “Great. Ahead of schedule.” He proceeded to drill, and Emma plugged her ears with her fingers. When the racket had stopped Freddie reached into his tool pouch and tossed her a package of earplugs. “Put these in unless you want to be deaf by the time, you’re thirty.”

  “Thanks.” Emma held the package in her hand. “You wanted to talk about the displays?”

  “Right.” Freddie set the drill on the floor and the two of them walked to the plastic-covered counter that had been custom built by a local woodworker named Josh. Freddie chewed on his bottom lip and nodded as Emma spread out the plans and pointed to where the display lighting needed to be placed. “That works,” he said. “But you need to frame the display before I can wire it.”

  “I guess that the framers forgot to do it.” She couldn’t believe that she hadn’t insisted that it be completed with the rest of the job. “I’ll have to give them a call.”

  Freddie scrawled some notes in his workbook. “I’ll do what I can today, but we’re at a standstill until that display unit gets framed in.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” Emma said. She rolled up the plans and the compressor roared back to life as Freddie continued pulling the wiring. She stepped into the fresh air of the street and placed a call to her contractor, leaving a message when he didn’t pick up. She headed back into the construction zone, put in the spongy earplugs, and sat down in the skeletal space that would one day be the coolers for the flowers. She spent the next four hours placing orders and starting accounts with greenhouses and suppliers. She was so absorbed in her work; she didn’t notice Freddie's approach until he nudged her knee with the toe of his well-worn boot. She pulled the earplugs out of her ears and looked up at him.

  “I’m heading out.” Freddie looked at his fancy altimeter watch. “I’ve done all that I can for tonight. Let me know when the framing is done, and I’ll be back to get that display all sorted out.”

  “Thanks, Freddie,” Emma smiled. “I left a message earlier but haven’t heard back yet.”

  Freddie pursed his lips and nodded. It looked like he wanted to say something, but then stopped. “Just let me know when you’re ready and I’ll come back.”

  “Freddie?” A voice shouted from the front of the shop. Emma was surprised at how many people just ‘popped in’ to see what was going on. A gorgeous blond woman wearing an expensive-looking sundress and strappy heels stepped into the shop.

  “Back here,” Freddie shouted. “I want to introduce you to my fiancée, Serena.” Freddie extended a hand and helped Emma up from the floor.

  “I’m Serena,” the woman extended her hand. Next to Freddie’s modelesque girlfriend, Emma felt like a shrimp.

  “Pleased to meet you.” Emma brushed her hand against her jeans and then shook Serena’s hand.

  “I hate to jump into business, but are you taking bookings yet?” Serena laughed lightly, her voice like a songbird.

  “Whoa, Nelly.” Freddy held up his hands and then slipped his fingers through Serena’s and bought her manicured hand to his lips, her huge engagement ring glinting in the temporary lighting. “We still have to set a date.”

  “As soon as you know your date, let me know.” Butterfly wings beat at Emma’s stomach. It was really happening.

  Serena elbowed Freddie. “He’s the one that wants the perfect wedding. I would pop on over to city hall right now if he’d let me.”

  Emma let out a choked laugh. Out of this unlikely looking couple, she wouldn’t have guessed the scruffy electrician was the one with the big wedding plans.

  “Shhhh.” Freddie smiled. “Stop making stuff up.” But the redness in his cheeks underneath his freckles gave him away.

  “Well, either way, I’ll make you the perfect bouquet.” Emma said, then added, “Ranunculus, right?”

  Serena’s mouth gaped. “How did you know?”

  Emma shrugged and tilted her head with a smile. “You look like a ranunculus kind of woman.” Emma had a knack for guessing someone’s favorite flower, and Serena’s contemporary sophistication screamed out for the simplicity and elegance of the multi-layered petals.

  “I love them,” Serena smiled warmly and then added, “Did Freddie invite you to the barbecue?”

  “Barbecue?” Emma raised her eyebrows while subtly shaking her head.

  “You should totally come.” Freddie smiled. “I forgot about it.” He put his hand up and joke whispered.

  Serena slipped her arm around Freddie’s waist and Emma felt a twinge of jealousy. They adored each other.

  “It’s at Josh and Megan’s house. I’ll text you the address,” Serena said without waiting for Emma to accept the invite.

  “Thanks,” Emma smiled. “Let me know what to bring.”

  “Just yourself,” Serena said. She reached out and squeezed Emma’s arm. “It was nice to meet you, Emma.”

  “Same.” Emma felt warm from within. She had wondered if it was going to be hard to meet people in a new town. And even though Serena told her she didn’t have to bring anything; she already knew that she was showing up with a strawberry shortcake. Jimmy’s backyard strawberry patch was full of plump red bed berries, and who doesn’t love strawberry shortcake?

  As Freddie and Serena made their way around the table saw and piles of sawdust, Emma packed up her laptop and placed the earplugs in the little Ziploc bag.

  “What’s her story?” Serena said it quietly as they walked away, but Emma wasn’t going deaf anytime soon. She pretended not to have heard the comment and genuinely hadn’t heard Freddie’s response, but when she locked the door behind the two of them, she knew that she wouldn’t be able to completely forget her past. Even though that’s all she wanted to do.