Chapter 1
Mallory
I clicked out of the bookstore in heels that didn’t fit this town, clutching my portfolio to my chest.
My life suddenly feltabsurd.
I’d spent so many years working to get away from Red Oak Mountain only to find myself back here again, licking my wounds.
Until recently, I’d been a high-level marketing director. But today I’d stooped low enough to interview for a part-time cashier job in a small-town bookstore.
And I was fairly certain Iwasn’tgetting the position.
The people who’d interviewed me had been nice, but I’d seen the look in Avery’s eyes. She wasn’t going to let Flint hire me.
I miss Quincy.
My heart stuttered in my chest as I thought about my little Frenchie.
Life had knocked me flat this year.
First the divorce. Which is when my ex stole my dog.
Then the layoff.
Since then my life had been in a freefall.
Three months ago I’d been presenting quarterly campaign analytics to a boardroom of executives in Chicago, and now I was hoping two very kind locals would hire me to stock their bookshelves.
Coming home to Red Oak Mountain had been a mistake.
Maybe I should just go.
The highway wasn’t far. I could take an entrance ramp and be on my way to anywhere else in the world within minutes.
I pushed the front door of the bookshop open with more force than I intended and walked directly into a wall of warm flannel.
I shrieked in surprise as my face collided with a man-chest, then dropped the portfolio I’d been holding. The resume pages inside it caught the breeze, scattering across the damp sidewalk, ruining them.
“Oh, no!” I’d have to reprint them now. And I’d used a quality linen bond for the paper that wasn’t sold here in this tiny burg of a town.
Thick hands reached out to steady me, settling on my waist.
“Whoa, easy there.”
The voice was deep and unhurried, a low rumble that flowed right into my chest, where I hadn’t felt anything in months.
Iknewthat voice.
I’d spent three years memorizing it at the Hungry Rooster.
And twelve years of distance hadn’t dulled a single note of it.
“Zane?”
He was already crouching down to gather my scattered resumes, one large hand pressing a sheet flat against the concrete before the wind could take it.
Zane looked up when I said his name, surprise rolling across his face.
