Another roll of the dice

Big news, fair readers! Bayside High’s favorite It Girl is back. Would you have bet Carissa Blackwell would ever return? Ten years ago, she crushed Jasper Dumont’s heart under her Jimmy Choos and left town for a bigger, better life. Her return raises one question: What is she running from (or is it to) now?

Perhaps Jasper knows? One look at Carissa and he fell in the bay! (Rich, single and devastatingly handsome, Jasper’s our catch of the day.) That icy plunge should have brought him to his senses, yet “Casper” has been spotted together all over town. Does this mean Bayside’s legendary couple may reunite? The stakes are high, but the Bayside Blogger’s money is riding on love!

“You fell into the bay?” she asked Jasper.

“It was nothing.”

“Not what the Bayside Blogger is saying,” one of the men at the end of the bar offered.

“Bayside Blogger said you saw your high school girlfriend and fell into the bay,” added the other man.

Carissa’s mouth dropped open. She’d thought someone had been around her when she’d stopped to look out over the water. Jasper had been at the dock when she’d pulled up a couple hours ago? He’d fallen into the bay? Because of her?

“Jasp—”

“Don’t say anything.”

She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. But she decided to give him a break since he looked so uncomfortable. “Who is this Bayside Blogger I keep hearing about?”

He looked relieved at the change in topic. “The Bayside Blogger...” He proceeded to tell her all about the town’s biggest gossip columnist as they enjoyed their drinks.

“So, Carissa Blackwell...” He trailed off sometime later and met her eyes. A shadow fell over his face. “Sorry, I don’t know what your married name is.”

They were just finishing their second round of fried mozzarella sticks. Not to mention they’d kept the drinks flowing. Carissa felt warm and toasty. Her drive, the gossip, the Bayside Blogger, all forgotten.

Ah, she understood. “I never changed my name, actually.”

* * *

Saved by the Blog: This matchmaking gossip columnist won’t stop until true love wins!

Bidding on the Bachelor

Kerri Carpenter

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Award-winning romance author KERRI CARPENTER writes contemporary romances that are sweet, sexy and sparkly. When she’s not writing, Kerri enjoys reading, cooking, watching movies, taking Zumba classes, rooting for Pittsburgh sports teams and anything sparkly. Kerri lives in Northern Virginia with her adorable (and mischievous) rescued poodle mix, Harry. Visit Kerri at her website, www.kerricarpenter.com, on Facebook (Facebook.com/AuthorKerri,) Twitter and Instagram (@authorkerri), or subscribe to her newsletter.

For my fabulous agent and wonderful friend, Nic.

I seriously could not do this without you.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Carissa could not believe this was her life.

She glanced around the nearly empty apartment—excuse her, the luxury condo that until recently she’d shared with her husband. Now the condo was on the market, her marriage was over, and she was left standing in a deserted room, with stacks of boxes the only thing to keep her company.

Of course, most of those boxes didn’t even belong to her. As she’d packed up almost a decade of her life, she realized that she had very few belongings. Strange, since she’d been surrounded by mountains of items before she and Preston signed on the dotted line.

Even now, she took a moment to peruse the neatly packed and labeled cartons.

China—Preston’s grandmother’s.

Jewelry—Preston’s mother’s.

Antique desk—Preston’s father’s.

Only the kitchen gadgets and appliances, clothes, and some old high school yearbooks belonged to her now. And she didn’t even want the yearbooks. She ran a hand over the maroon cover from her senior year. Good old Bayside, Virginia. Maybe she should move back home.

Carissa snorted. Yeah, right. She’d vowed to never return to Bayside, a promise easily kept after her parents moved away while she was in college. Except for her aunt Val, she hadn’t stayed in touch with anyone from the town where she went to high school. Not her group of girlfriends, not her favorite teachers, not even...

“Jasper Dumont,” she said aloud, and then sighed.

Her fingers itched to open the yearbook and search for his picture. She knew what she would see. His blond hair and dazzling blue eyes. That handsome face and devastating grin. They’d known each other most of their lives but for one spectacular year, they’d dated. Their relationship had been amazing and fun and passionate and...she’d gone and ruined it.

Carissa put the yearbook down. “That was a long time ago,” she whispered. Ten years. A whole decade. She hadn’t communicated with him since, but she did hope his life was going better than hers. She’d broken up with him and headed straight for college. Then she’d married Preston right after graduation and they’d made their life in Chicago.

We made his life, she thought with another glance around the room.

Even so, she did need to move somewhere. Chicago was far too expensive. As she’d quickly learned after they announced their separation, most of “their” friends turned out to really be “his” friends.

Carissa wasn’t much of a crier, nor was she someone who gave in to sulking or whining. But after everything that had happened over the last year, she needed a moment. Just one moment to grieve the loss of her marriage and her life.

Maybe the problem had been marrying so young. She’d only been twenty-two when they got engaged and twenty-three when she walked down the aisle. But in her defense, she’d dated Preston all through college at Northwestern. His family had been nice and welcoming to her, and Preston graduated with an offer to work at his father’s media company. That made him steady, reliable and stable.

Three traits missing from her own father, who’d barely worked a day in his life, choosing to live off her mother’s inheritance instead. Well, trust funds dry up, and so did all of the promises people make to each other when they stand at the altar.

She’d worked in the beginning. Nothing fancy and not directly tied to her business degree. But she’d put in a couple years at an event-planning firm. While Carissa thought she’d done a pretty good job, her heart hadn’t been in it completely. When Preston suggested she quit so she could help him entertain colleagues and clients, she’d jumped at his suggestion. She’d wanted to make him happy, and besides, she’d always loved planning meals, searching different grocery and specialty stores, puttering away in the kitchen. Watching a handful of ingredients turn into scrumptious meals with amazing aromas made her happy.

In fact, she’d enjoyed planning and hosting dinner parties so much that she’d taken countless cooking classes. Moroccan dinners, making pies from scratch, holiday baking, Italian basics...any time she got wind of any type of lesson involving food, she made sure to be the first one in line.

From Preston to his parents to all of the clients and friends they entertained, everyone raved about her cooking. Soon, she found herself enjoying the kitchen of their luxury condo much more than any other room. Including the bedroom.

Especially the bedroom.

Of course, Preston continued to adore that room. Why wouldn’t he, when he was bringing so many different women there to receive a very personal tour?

Carissa sighed and kicked one of the boxes, cringing when she heard the indelible sound of breaking glass. She checked the label and winced. Figures she’d picked one of the few boxes that held her stuff instead of the mountains of Preston’s belongings.

She’d signed a prenup, which entitled her to a tiny bit of money. Apparently, the fact that Preston broke their marriage vows did nothing in the way of changing the terms. Oh well. She wouldn’t want someone else’s money anyway. Carissa knew she needed to move on. Now she had to figure out how, why and where.

She’d already decided that there was only one job she was qualified for. Caterer. Only, that seemed crazy. Who was she to start her own business? Sure, she’d cooked for two to fifty people multiple times a week over the last couple of years. And she did have her business degree. But she didn’t have any practical experience. Not to mention references. It wasn’t like she could go to Preston’s clients or family and ask for their testimonials.

She also didn’t have a home. She had to be out of the condo by the end of the week. It was going to be tough to cook for anyone when she didn’t even have a kitchen to use.

She took another glance around the beautiful space and let out another sigh. Preston had surprised her by buying this place. At the time, she’d thought it was romantic, that Preston was taking care of her. Now those idyllic shades from her early twenties had been lifted. Her husband’s buying a condo without so much as consulting with her on any aspect was controlling. Her opinion on the neighborhood had never been sought. Her name had never been added to the mortgage. The moment she’d taken the spare key from Preston’s hand had been the moment she’d lost the first part of her independence.

She heard a little chirp. Her cell phone. Someone must have left a message. She’d been so engrossed in her thoughts that she hadn’t heard the phone ring.

Digging her phone out from under a mass of Bubble Wrap, packing tape and newspapers, she saw her aunt Val’s name and number on the display. Carissa quickly held the phone to her ear to listen to the familiar and comforting sound of her favorite aunt’s raspy voice.

Hey, gorgeous. You better not be moping in that monstrosity you call a condo. Never did like that place. Who puts marble in their bathrooms? And why do two people need four bathrooms? Anyhoo, I’m taking a little trip over the next couple of months. So if you need a place to stay, my cottage will be free.

Carissa always thought she got her strength and her levelheadedness from Aunt Val. She wasn’t one for mushy scenes or histrionics and neither was her aunt. So she was surprised to hear her aunt’s voice soften.

I know you have your reasons for staying away from Bayside all these years. Hell, I even understand some of them. But honey, sometimes when life kicks you in the hoo-ha, there’s no place to go but home.

Carissa didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Since she wasn’t a crier and she didn’t feel like laughing at the moment, she put on her thinking cap.

Never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined herself returning to Bayside. Back in high school, she’d told everyone who could listen that she was meant for bigger and better things. And those things did not include the tiny Mayberry-esque town situated on the Chesapeake Bay in Virginia. To return now, divorced, humiliated, broke, lost...well, that wasn’t exactly appealing.

She crossed the room and entered the kitchen. After pouring a rather large glass of wine, she leaned back against the quartz counter she’d always loved and considered the kitchen tools she still needed to pack.

At almost twenty-nine years old, she’d been both married and divorced. She’d heeded her husband’s bad advice and stopped working. She may have a college diploma, but she had no professional experience or useful contacts.

She eyed her beloved KitchenAid mixer. Cooking was the one thing she was good at. But starting a catering company in Chicago was damn near impossible on a financial level.

Bayside, on the other hand, could be doable. Many people considered Bayside to be the Hamptons of the South. The town boasted both a healthy working class and an old-school elite who lived in sprawling mansions with immaculate lawns. And the latter group loved throwing parties.

And people at those parties liked to eat.

She’d grown up as part of that upper class. The money ran out just as she reached the end of high school thanks to her deadbeat and financially challenged dad. Thank God she’d been able to keep that little secret. Small towns always seemed to have the longest memories when it came to scandals. And Bayside was a town that loved its gossip.

Carissa’s heart began beating faster. She had a free place to stay, which meant she could put what little money she had into her business. If she did well, she could acquire some much-needed references. Then, if she wanted to branch out and go to DC or down into North Carolina, she could.

She took a big gulp of wine and then rubbed her hands together. Her aunt’s message was exactly what she needed to hear.

Carissa still might not know the how or the why. But she finally knew the where.

Bayside, Virginia, here I come.

* * *

Here I come, Jasper thought.

After months of proposals, number-crunching, presentations, research, wining and dining, not to mention good old-fashioned face-to-face meetings, Jasper was going in for the kill. He needed Arthur Morris to agree to his terms. Since Jasper had taken over Dumont Incorporated, he’d done well. Numbers were up in all divisions, but a deal like this would really go far in persuading the board that he was the right man for the job.

He rolled his shoulders. The fact that he still had to prove his worth stuck in his craw. But Jasper wasn’t one to dwell on the negative. The board wanted him to bring in more big deals. Game on.

He’d come so far. Especially considering that he wasn’t supposed to be here at all. His older brother, Cam, should have been heading up the family company, but Cam had decided to buck tradition and started a construction company instead. That opened the door for Dumont child Numero Dos and Jasper had barged right through. He’d always wanted to head up the company. Unfortunately, most of his life he’d been under the impression that he would never get the chance.

He thanked Cam every day for following his heart. His brother was happy, which made Jasper extremely happy. Because he was now at the helm of Dumont Incorporated and ready to impress everyone.

“As you can see, Mr. Morris, Bayside would offer you everything you’re looking for.” As they walked around the waterfront, Jasper pointed out landmarks to Arthur Morris. “There’s a lot of tradition in this town. When it’s not the height of tourist season, there are still festivals, charity events and a lot of other town activities. We’ve recently built up the area to the west of the bay and put in a great park. They hold farmers’ markets on Sunday and an artisan and craft fair every Saturday that brings in people from all over the state.”

He noticed Arthur working his jaw and jumped in before he could object. “At the same time, Bayside is an up-and-coming hot spot according to Virginia Magazine. Also, the Washington Post recently named the town one of Virginia’s best-kept secrets.”

Jasper fanned his hands out in front of him and made a box to highlight the site. “Putting the apartments here is a prime location, central to the town square, shopping, nightlife. Not to mention, it’s an easy jaunt to both the elementary and high school for anyone with kids.” He turned and put an arm around Arthur’s shoulders. “And then there’s this.”

Arthur nodded. “It is one hell of a view. I’ll give you that.”

And Jasper had timed it to make sure they got the peak sunset with its array of colors blending into the water of the bay. The docked boats were bobbing along as tourists and citizens strolled along the man-made walkway that circled a good portion of the water.

Jasper was an expert negotiator and he knew he’d made his case. Still, after he’d learned of Arthur Morris’s love of crabs, shrimp and lobster, he added one last detail. “And the seafood is pretty out of this world, if I do say so myself.”

Arthur turned to face him. “After the dinner we had last night, I’ll agree with that.” He patted his round belly. “Still full from it, but don’t think that will stop me from getting more before I head out of town later tonight.”

Jasper smiled, but on the inside his emotions were having a dance party. “I thought you’d like that restaurant.” He’d also managed to arrange the best table, with the best view, and had the chef prepare a special menu just for them. That was a definite perk that came with the Dumont name.

“Listen, kid,” Arthur began, and Jasper folded his arms in front of him, intent on the next couple of sentences. “This has been a great pitch. But honestly, it comes down to the other numbers you put together for me. After that amazing dinner, I studied every sheet cover to cover. The prices you’re offering go a long way and I think the return on investment is worth the risk.”

Jasper nodded, reining in his excitement. He’d been working on this deal for two years and he wasn’t going to rush now.

“So I’m saying yes,” Arthur finished after what felt like ten minutes of silence.

“Great to hear it, sir.” Jasper shook his hand and continued to play it cool. “We’re thrilled to welcome a Morris complex to Bayside.”

They spoke about a couple other details for the next several minutes as they walked toward Mr. Morris’s rented car. Before he could drive away, Jasper had to know one thing.

“One last question. What made you say yes?”

Mr. Morris nodded as if he’d been expecting this very question. “Your father met with me regularly over the years. He gave me some great pitches.”

“And yet you never said yes.”

“He nagged me the same way you did, that’s for sure.” His smile came fast and brief. If Jasper had blinked, he’d have missed it. “But you went the extra mile.”

“By plying you with the best seafood on the East Coast.”

“By showing me the town. Really showing me. You love Bayside. That came across clear as day. I feel like I know the people who live here. They’re not just numbers and stats in a spreadsheet. That made my decision easy.”

Now it was Jasper’s turn to smile. Only he held it in. He kept his usual calm business face.

“I have to say, though, I used to hear stories about you. Heard you were quite the little party kid back in the day. Weren’t we all as teenagers? Happy to see you’ve grown out of it.” Then he shook Jasper’s hand, got in the car and drove away.

Only when he knew he was completely alone did Jasper let the grin out. And a fist pump for good measure.

Today is a good day. Jasper could feel the spring in his step as he made his way toward the center of the town and The Brewside Café, the addictive coffeehouse he frequented on a daily basis. While he walked, he took in the town he’d lived in for most of his life.

He’d always loved Bayside. He’d only left for college, business school and a couple years of working for another company to gain credentials. All that time, he’d missed the large bay with boats of varying sizes going in and out, the picturesque town square with the identical white siding and inviting blue awnings and shutters.

He reached for his phone and quickly scrolled through some text messages before seeing Simone’s name. He grinned. Simone Graves was a feisty little redhead he’d been noticing at the gym for the last couple of months. She liked to go to Zumba classes and Jasper enjoyed seeing her shimmy around the room in her tight-fitting clothing. He’d finally asked her out, but they hadn’t set a date and time yet.

Up for a drink tonight? he wrote to her.

It only took a minute for her to write back.

Wish I could. Stuck at work. This was accompanied by multiple sad emoji. But she proposed a different night to meet and Jasper accepted.

Whistling, he continued toward The Brewside. But before he entered the coffeehouse he decided to take a moment. So he changed course and headed toward the water, Mr. Morris’s parting words ringing through his head.

I used to hear stories about you. Heard you were quite the little party kid back in the day. Happy to see you’ve grown out of it.

Well, he had been a lover of parties and the original good-time boy. But he’d also been just that—a boy. A kid. A teenager who’d been told from birth that his older brother would take over the family business. Sure, he’d been expected to work for Dumont Incorporated but he’d never been groomed to be in charge.

After all, he was the “second” son, after Cam. Overlooked and undervalued at every turn. His mother had always said he was the most good-natured child she’d ever seen. Jasper liked to think he’d held on to that his whole life. He enjoyed seeing the glass as half-full, excelled at finding the positive. He’d never harbored jealousy toward his big brother. In fact, he’d worshipped Cam. Still, being the younger child had hurt. So he’d lived it up in high school. Why wouldn’t he? He knew he’d get into a good college thanks to his parents’ connections. Likewise, he knew he’d be employed after college.

But as Mr. Morris said, he’d grown out of it. He’d been forced out of it, really.

Thanks to Carissa.

At the mere thought of her name, Jasper halted. Standing on the dock, he looked out at the bay, gripping the railing hard.

When was the last time he’d allowed himself to think about Carissa Blackwell? He shook his head.

Oh please. You think about her all the damn time.

Of course he did. She’d been the single most beautiful female he’d ever laid eyes on. She’d also been his first love. And with one cutting remark after graduation, she’d changed the course of his life.

Like most of the kids from his graduating class, they’d all known one another since birth. Bayside was a small town. About 90 percent of the classmates he walked with to “Pomp and Circumstance” at eighteen had been in his nursery school class, too. Carissa was no exception.

They’d continued to run in the same crowd throughout high school. They had both been popular. They were both involved in sports—he in baseball and she in cheerleading. Their parents had been friends and enjoyed the same kind of lavish lifestyles. They’d even lived on the same street.

But they hadn’t crossed that line of romance until the summer before senior year.

Jasper turned and gazed toward the beach. It had happened over there. Down on the sand after one of the town’s big festivals. A bunch of kids had built a bonfire. They’d both been hanging out, having some beers. Carissa used to drink wine coolers, he thought with a laugh.

Jasper started walking toward that spot on the beach. He’d always thought she was gorgeous. Who hadn’t? She was like the quintessential California girl come to the East Coast with her long legs, golden skin, perfect pink lips and full blond hair that fell halfway down her back. Plus, she had those really intriguing gray eyes. To this day, he’d never seen eyes quite like hers.

That night she’d been wearing sexy jean shorts and a little red tank top. They’d shared a glance, then a head nod. Next thing he knew he was sitting next to her on a log sharing her s’more. Didn’t take long for them to move their party of two farther down the beach where they’d shared one hell of a make-out session.

Just like that, they’d become hot and heavy and completely inseparable during senior year. Until about a month after graduation. Carissa had been accepted to Northwestern and he was going to UPenn, just like his father. He could never think of Carissa without his mind going to that last fateful conversation.

“Jasper, you aren’t serious about anything.”

“What are you talking about? I’m serious about you.”

She shook her head. “That’s not enough. You party all the time with your friends.”

“So what? And anyway, they’re your friends, too.”

“I know. But I’m just saying that there’s more to life than keg parties in the woods and making out in someone’s basement.”

“I think we did a little more than make out.”

She pointed at him. “See, you can’t even be serious now. Just like my dad,” she said under her breath.

“I know you’re upset because your parents want to move away from Bayside...”

“That doesn’t bother me. I want them to move away, actually.”

“Why?”

“Never mind, that’s not the point.” She flung her long hair over her shoulder.

“Okaaaayyyy.” He would never understand girls. “Then, what is the point?”

“You are relying on your parents’ money and connections to get you through life. You have no ambition and no drive. Do you think I want to be with someone like that? I don’t.” She looked at the ground.

He felt like someone had slapped him across the face. “What are you saying?”

“I don’t want to ever come back to Bayside. I’m so done with this town. I want someone who has goals and like, initiative and stuff,” She bit her lip. Even as she insulted him, there was sadness in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Jasper. You just don’t.”

With that, she’d walked away with his heart.

He’d tried to call her but she’d never answered. Her parents said she went to a prefreshman-year program at Northwestern. She’d wanted to get a jump on classes. Then her parents had moved away later in the year and she didn’t have a reason to return to Bayside anymore. He never saw her again.

It was Jasper’s nature to find a bright side. But in truth, Carissa’s words stung. Not only did she break up with him, but she insulted his very character.

It had taken some time. A lot of time. But eventually, the memory of Carissa’s words had kicked his butt into gear. She wanted someone with ambition and that’s what he’d decided to give her. Even if they weren’t actually together.

His father’s name may have gotten him into college, but he worked his butt off once he got there. He joined a fraternity but when it was time for midterms or finals, he’d camp out at the library to make sure he kept his GPA up, finally graduating with honors. He never told his parents about applying to grad schools so they couldn’t influence the process.

He’d come a long way from the irresponsible, somewhat reckless, carefree kid who was always the life of the party. Some people had called him foolish, but in Jasper’s mind he’d always been underestimated.

At some point, though, all the hard work stopped being just for her. He’d become obsessed with doing the very best he could and in the process he’d become the head of Dumont Incorporated. If Carissa were here maybe he’d thank her. Especially after his victory tonight. But the odds of ever seeing Carissa Blackwell in Bayside again were slim to none.

His phone made a little ding alerting him to a text message. He looked down to see his brother’s name. How’d it go with Morris?

Jasper began texting back but something caught his attention. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a woman standing at the same location where he’d been before his little walk down memory lane. Fingers still poised over the keypad on his phone, he didn’t have time to text Cam back before his brother added, Either way, come over tonight. Let’s hang out and watch the game.

Again, he began typing a reply but the woman reached her arms above her head and stretched. She was really beautiful. He peered closer and got a chill up the back of his neck.

She looked familiar. Too familiar. Jasper gripped his cell harder and began walking faster. Closer. But as he rounded the corner, she was heading away from the dock toward a black car.

He would know that sashay of hips anywhere. After all, the last time he’d seen a movement like that had been her swaying body walking away from him.

No way. No freaking way.

“Carissa?” he said into the silence around him. Luckily, no one was there to hear him talking to himself. Likewise, no one was there to see him step to the side to ensure he was actually seeing his first love and not some late-summer apparition brought on by too much work. In any case, he slipped, hit the railing with too much momentum, and before he could say Carissa is back in Bayside, he’d fallen over the metal divider and into the bay.

Chapter Two

Greetings, dear readers! After a brief hiatus, your ever-faithful Bayside Blogger is back from a much-needed summer vacay! And color me shocked, surprised and downright confused. Carissa Blackwell, former Bayside High A-list superstar, has also returned to our fair shores! And just why is little-miss-too-good-for-good-ole-Bayside back in town?

Let’s get down to it, folks—the far more interesting question is...how does Jasper Dumont feel? Well, I understand he took a late-evening swim in the bay after catching a glimpse of his long-lost prom queen. And let’s just say that the swim wasn’t exactly planned...

Jasper needed some liquor.

Once he was home, freshly showered and in dry clothes, he crossed the room to the wall that held a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf. He scanned the bottom shelf until he found what he was searching for. His high school yearbook. Jasper grabbed it from the shelf, made a cup of coffee and started riffling through the pages until he got to the B names.

There she was. Carissa Blackwell. Jasper didn’t need to ogle the photo to recall that long golden hair, legs that went on for miles and flawless skin that always looked like it was kissed by the sun.

Flipping more pages, he eyed the photos of the cheerleaders. There she was again, all decked out in that appealing little uniform. His lips quirked. Damn, he’d loved watching her cheer at football games. He’d loved making out with her under the bleachers after the game even more.

They’d done everything together senior year. Until she’d broken up with him. Jasper could feel his eyebrows growing close together just as something fell out from between the pages of the yearbook. A picture of the two of them at prom. He couldn’t remember who had snapped it. But in the photo they were dancing; Carissa was staring up at him adoringly as he had his arms wrapped tightly around her.

To this day, Jasper still wondered what had changed. Prom had been one month before she’d dumped him. When had she stopped looking at him like that and decided he hadn’t been good enough for her?

His phone—which luckily had fallen from his hand and landed safely on the dock—rang.

“Hey, Cam,” he greeted his big brother.

“So?”

Jasper shifted in his seat. So what?”

“So what have you been doing?”

Jasper eyed the garbage can, where he’d decided to throw his clothes out after he climbed out of the bay. As he’d hoisted himself back onto the wooden dock, he’d snagged his pants. The quick jaunt from the water to his new condo in the center of town had been interesting. Wet and interesting. If his brother found out about it, he’d never hear the end of it.

So he decided to play it cool. “I haven’t been doing anything,” he lied. He paced the length of the living room. He loved this condo with its exposed beamed ceiling, brick walls and amazing view of the bay. Although, the sight of the water at the moment made him cringe.

“What do you mean you haven’t been doing anything? Wasn’t your huge meeting with Mr. Morris today? I’ve been texting you for the last hour.”

Jasper snapped out of his Carissa-focused stupor. “Right. Sorry.” He proceeded to tell Cam all about the meeting. His brother seemed ecstatic for him.

“That’s amazing, Jasp. Congratulations.”

“Thanks, Cam.” And he meant it. He’d always idolized his older brother and Cam’s approval meant the world to him.

“Now, what about after the meeting?”

“What do you mean?” Jasper asked hesitantly.

“I heard you celebrated by going for a little swim in the bay.”

Jasper ground his teeth together. “How did you...” He trailed off. Of course, he already knew the answer to that question. How did anyone in Bayside know anything? The ever-loving, always-gossipy Bayside Blogger, of course.

The Bayside Blogger wrote for the Bayside Bugle’s Style & Entertainment section. No one knew her identity, or how she always—and it truly felt like always—found out the gossip before anyone else. She also utilized a daily blog, Twitter, Facebook, Instagram and just about every other form of communication in existence.

“And the Blogger said that Carissa Blackwell is back in town,” Cam was saying. “She alluded to your little dip in the water having something to do with a Carissa spotting.”

Spotting? When had his brother become TMZ? Time to call him out. “I thought you didn’t read that...what did you used to call it? Trash, I believe,” Jasper said.

Cam coughed. “Uh, Elle reads it. I just happen to catch snippets here and there.”

“Sure, sure. Elle reads it. Doesn’t explain how you would know about me falling into the bay today, though, since your beloved is out of town checking out that up-and-coming artist for the gallery. You must be losing your mind without your better half around.” Got him.

Since Elle returned from living in Italy last spring, she and his brother had been practically attached at the hip. Jasper was happy for his brother. And jealous, if he was being honest. The guy was head over heels in love. And Elle looked at him the way Carissa gazed at him in that old prom photo.

“She’ll be back tomorrow afternoon. Listen, Jasp,” Cam said, his voice growing serious.

Here we go, Jasper thought. He knew exactly where this was heading. This was so not going to be fun.

“Yes?”

“Carissa.” Cam said her name the way one might say cancer or terrorist.

“Was my high school girlfriend.”

“She was way more than that and we both know it. And she’s back in town.”

Jasper ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “We don’t know that.”

“The Bayside Blogger said—”

“So what? Just because the Bayside Blogger—”

This time Cam cut him off. “Hate to admit it but the Bayside Blogger—whoever he or she may be—does tend to be right.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Cam started to say something so Jasper quickly beat him to the punch. “We dated a million years ago. I heard she got married and was living in the Midwest somewhere. I, on the other hand, have a date lined up with a certain hottie from the gym.”

There was a long pause. “Do you want to come over?” Cam finally asked.

What he wanted was to forget that he’d seen Carissa Blackwell. He wanted to have a couple beers, be alone with his thoughts, and not hear about the damn Bayside Blogger.

Luckily, he knew just where to accomplish everything he needed. The Rusty Keg, an old dive bar, sat on the outskirts of town. People would recognize him there but they’d also give him room and leave him alone.

“No, I’m good. Honestly,” he assured his brother.

And he would be. So long as he didn’t see Carissa Blackwell again.

And he stayed away from water.

* * *

Carissa was not a suspicious person. She was rooted in the here and now and considered herself rational and practical. And yet she couldn’t shake the feeling she was being watched.

She’d left Chicago yesterday, stayed overnight in Ohio, driven all day, hit some nasty traffic, and drunk about fifteen coffees before finally arriving in Bayside. Needing a moment to stretch—not to mention, take in the town she hadn’t laid eyes on in over a decade—she’d pulled over at the dock before she made her way to her aunt’s cottage.

It was while she was there, taking a moment to refamiliarize herself with Bayside, stretching and getting the kinks out of her tired muscles, when she started to get that spooky feeling. First, goose bumps broke out on her skin. Then she thought she saw someone out of the corner of her eye, over to her right. Fed up, she’d left the dock and returned to her car. That’s when she’d received full confirmation that she was indeed being watched. About five people stood outside the town’s popular square, staring and pointing at her while they whispered to each other and tapped away on their phones.

Great. Back in Bayside for five minutes and the welcome committee was already starting with the gossip. She wondered how long it would take for the whole town to know she’d returned. They wouldn’t know she’d come home with her tail between her legs. Not as long as she could help it.

She hightailed it to her aunt’s cottage in record time.

She found the key where Aunt Val had instructed her to look, in the flowerpot around back. She peered closer. A flowerpot that appeared to be holding a weed plant if she wasn’t mistaken. Given that, she wasn’t sure if she was excited or nervous about what she might find inside.

Carissa let herself into the two-bedroom cottage, flicked the light switch and smiled. It was the same cozy and eccentric home she remembered from high school, maybe with a few more knickknacks collected over the years. Every room was painted a different pastel color. The kitchen wasn’t the most updated she’d ever seen but it was definitely workable. And bonus, it overlooked the deck, the small backyard and the bay beyond that. The view was probably worth more than the entire rest of the house.

The decor was beachy and comfortable, the exact opposite of the modern high-rise she’d shared with Preston in Chicago. Perfect. Two minutes in this place and she already felt more at ease than she had in six years in her condo. This place screamed for you to kick off your shoes, whip up a margarita and blast some Jimmy Buffett from the radio.

Carissa nodded definitely. “This will do just fine,” she murmured to herself. She saw a long note on the counter and quickly scanned it. Her aunt explained the AC system, which apparently went on the fritz from time to time. Great—since it was the last week of August, the temperature in Virginia was sweltering.

She also left instructions for watering her eclectic—and hopefully legal—garden out back. There were notes about the proper remote for the television, what days the trash was picked up, and a large warning for her not to enjoy the absinthe in the liquor cabinet. But everything else was hers to use, borrow and enjoy.

Carissa spent the next hour hauling her boxes from the car and getting settled. Her suitcases went into the guest bedroom she would be using. A bedroom, she noted, that was decorated in an explosion of peach paint and shell tchotchkes. It was kind of like sleeping in The Golden Girls house but Carissa couldn’t complain. The rent was free and she would be able to catch her breath.

Her parents had never liked this house. They’d claimed her aunt had too much crap and the interior decorating was childlike and outdated. But Carissa had always loved coming over to visit Aunt Val. She didn’t have to worry if she spilled crumbs on the floor or made her bed. Living in her childhood home had been like growing up in a museum. The floors had been hard and the furniture uncomfortable. Forget eating anywhere but the kitchen or dining room. And a cleaning lady came through twice a week.

How’d that work out for you, Mom and Dad? Carissa shook her head. Her parents had lost all of their money and most of their stuff. Her dad had lost the money, she corrected. Not that it had been his to begin with. Her mother had come from a wealthy family with old money, which her dad had misspent, mismanaged and eventually blown through.

She didn’t quite feel like unpacking yet so she meandered into the kitchen for a snack. Aunt Val said she would provide some munchies to get her started. Carissa eyed the weed plant out the sliding glass door as she recalled the use of the word munchies. But when she started hunting through the cabinets and fridge, there wasn’t so much as a bag of chips to be found. There was another note attached to the fridge with a magnet shaped like a starfish.

Didn’t have time to go to store. Sorry, Dollface.

Well, that explained that. There was a calendar hanging on the wall next to the fridge. She sighed. Just what she needed to see. A visual reminder of what today was.

Happy birthday to me.

Happy birthday to me.

Happy birthday dear recently divorced, almost completely broke twenty-nine-year-old meeeeeee.

Happy freaking birthday to me.

As part of her practical nature, Carissa never needed or wanted a big party, lots of presents or any kind of fuss made over her birthday. But even she hated the fact that she’d spent the first day of the last year of her twenties driving hundreds of miles because she’d just gotten divorced. Twenty-nine years old and already she’d been both married and divorced. Not exactly the path she’d envisioned for her life.

Snagging her car keys and shaking off the morbid mood, Carissa headed out the door toward the grocery store for a few essentials: coffee, milk, bread, peanut butter and alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol. But since there was a nice breeze, she decided to forgo the car and walk to the store instead. After the long drive, she could use the exercise.

Once at the store, she steered her shopping cart down one aisle after another, unsure of what she was in the mood for. She grabbed cereal and some snacks, a couple bags of fruit and the ingredients for chocolate chip cookies. A little birthday present to herself. But as she perused the different brands of coffee, she couldn’t help but tune in to someone else’s conversation. In fact, a couple different snippets of conversations. All about her.

I’m not making this up. It was her. Carissa Blackwell.

Didn’t you read the Bayside Blogger’s tweets today? She already knows about this.

...can’t believe she’s back here! Didn’t she swear off Bayside back in high school?

Strange that no one ever heard from her parents again. It’s like they disappeared into thin air.

Carissa checked the time on her phone. Two hours. That was all it had taken for her to become the topic of hot gossip. And who was this Bayside Blogger who seemed to know her every move?

Didn’t matter. Enough of this. She needed to get outside, stat. She pushed her cart to the side, items completely forgotten, and exited the store.

All she wanted was to escape the gossips and get some air.

As she walked along the back streets of the neighborhood back toward the cottage, she remembered something. There was a dive bar that used to sit back this way. She could go for a drink. Or two.

While she headed in the direction of the bar, one of the gossipers’ words reverberated through her head. Can’t believe she’s back here.

Carissa kicked at an imaginary stone. “Yeah, that makes two of us,” she muttered.

Then, like a beacon calling her home, she saw the old bar at the end of the street, surrounded by a small parking lot full of stones and overgrown trees. Score. She definitely wouldn’t be recognized here. Double score. Carissa knew if she filled in the gaps on the half–burned out neon sign hanging above the door, she’d read the name, The Rusty Keg.

True, she’d come out for a snack. But bars had snacks. Even more importantly, bars had alcohol. And nothing was going to make this nightmare of a day better than some good old-fashioned liquor.

She pushed open the creaky door and was immediately assaulted by a musky smell of cheap beer, fried food and sweat. The place was dark, dank and completely off the beaten path.

In other words, it was perfect.

Carissa strolled up to the bar, noticing the scratched-up wood just waiting to give someone a splinter. She reached under the bar, feeling around for a purse hook, then immediately snatched her hand back. Had she just touched someone’s used wad of gum? Yuck. She shook her head. An establishment with a half-lit, crooked sign above the door outside and a rotting bar with mismatched bar stools that probably hadn’t been cleaned since the nineties was definitely not going to have purse hooks. They probably didn’t even have pinot noir. She slid a glance toward the single-stall bathroom and scrunched her nose. Forget about toilet seat covers. That was probably a mere pipe dream.

“What can I get you?” a burly man with a full Duck Dynasty–worthy beard bellowed from behind the bar.

“Shot of tequila and the local beer on tap.”

He nodded, pulled her beer, poured the shot, but otherwise stayed silent. Carissa didn’t waste any time. “Happy birthday to me,” she said to no one in particular before throwing the shot back. The liquid burned her throat and made her eyes water. She turned her head and let out an exasperated “wowza” just in time to see none other than Jasper Dumont sitting right next to her, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Oh.” It was all she could think to say aloud. On the inside, however, there was a whole vocal party happening. No-freaking-way-it’s-your-ex-boyfriend!

No, not just an ex-boyfriend. Jasper Dumont was so much more than a simple ex. With some age and perspective, she realized their one-year relationship was such a short period of time in the grand scheme of life. But damn, that one year had been nothing short of amazing. Making out, dances, football games, making out, skipping school occasionally, making out, one epic prom, passing notes in calculus class, wanton looks by the lockers and even more making out. Well, making out that quickly led to much-less-PG versions of mere kissing.

Now this boy—er, man—whom she hadn’t seen in a decade, but whom, if she was being brutally honest and the tequila was already loosening her up on that score, she’d never stopped thinking about was sitting right next to her. At a dive bar in her hometown.

“Carissa Blackwell,” he said, his voice smooth and cutting. “Pigs must be flying because here you are. Back in Bayside.”

Despite the coldness coming off him in waves, he looked amazing. Same blond hair and striking blue eyes. But that lanky boy she used to kiss under the bleachers was now all filled out with broad shoulders and from what she could see, an impressive chest. She leaned back in her chair and took a sip of her beer. More to give herself a moment and to slow down the pulse that Jasper had sent soaring.

“Miracles can happen,” she said, raising her mug of beer in a toast.

“Apparently.” His gaze drank her in from the top of her head over her navy blue tank top and down her capri jeans to the toes that desperately needed a pedicure. Toes that curled as he gave an appreciative nod.

“It’s, um, nice to see you, Jasper.” She pushed her hair over her shoulder. “I wouldn’t expect to find you in a bar like this.”

“Likewise,” he quickly said. “Actually I wouldn’t expect to find you anywhere in the city limits.”

She nodded. She probably should have expected that from him. But what was she supposed to say? The truth? I got divorced. I have no money or career and this was the only place I had to go.

“Touché,” she said instead. “But I’m back in town.”

“For how long?” he asked quickly, too quickly. In fact, if she wasn’t mistaken, anger laced his question. She must have reacted to it because his features softened. “Sorry, it’s none of my business. And I do remember that today is your birthday. So happy birthday, Carissa.”

“Thanks,” she said, and meant it. She decided to offer an olive branch because the truth was that she’d dumped him and she hadn’t been kind about it. This icy reception she was receiving was well deserved. While she knew the reasons behind her decision, she’d never let Jasper in on it. She’d been a bratty, selfish teenager, not capable of understanding her emotions. Unwilling to admit that Jasper had always reminded her of her father and that summer her dad had dropped a bombshell on her.

“I don’t know how long I’ll be in town. I’m sort of in a transition period right now.” He waited patiently. After another long drink of beer, she finished. “I just got divorced.” Saying the words out loud left an awful taste in her mouth. An acidic aftertaste of yuckiness.

First, shock flashed on his face. Then true concern shone in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said.

And that might have been her undoing. Because he had every reason to be stiff and awkward with her. Instead, any kind of compassion from him loosened her lips.

“Today is my twenty-ninth birthday. I’m having a beer next to my ex-boyfriend, who hates my guts, in a dive bar in the town I swore I would never step foot in again. An ex-boyfriend I should really apologize to because I was an evil witch to him.” The words were flying now. She gripped her hand tightly around her glass. “I’m not even thirty and already I’ve been married and divorced. And I got divorced because he freaking cheated on me.”

She couldn’t miss the way Jasper’s eyes narrowed, his hands curled into fists, and there was a definite tic in his clenched jaw. “He cheated on you?”

“Yep. Apparently, the fact that I was homecoming queen, prom queen and head cheerleader did nothing to impress him. Or keep his pants zipped up when anyone wearing a skirt in the Central Time Zone walked by. That probably makes your whole day, doesn’t it?”

He slammed his hand on the bar and she jumped. But she just as quickly composed herself. “What? You have every right to revel in my misery after the way I broke up with you. I got divorced. You win.”

His eyes narrowed. “I don’t want to win at that game. And I certainly don’t want to hear that some idiot cheated on you. I’m sorry you’re getting divorced.”

“That makes one of us.” With that she chugged the rest of her beer and let her head drop onto the bar. Then she remembered the threat of splinters and lifted her face back up, the tequila and beer rushing to her head.

“Water over here, please,” Jasper called to the bartender. “Two waters, a basket of mozzarella sticks, and...” He looked to her.

“More alcohol,” she called out weakly.

He chuckled but also reached for her hand. As he squeezed her fingers a jolt of awareness traveled up her arm. It was a sensation she hadn’t felt in years. In fact, she’d never felt it with her ex-husband. Not once. Only Jasper made her toes curl, sent electric shocks to the system, and caused her stomach to flip over.

Jasper leaned back. “I don’t want to talk about our past. Not tonight.”

“But you’re still mad.”

He nodded. “Wouldn’t you be?”

She couldn’t argue with that.

He seemed to be considering something. Finally, he said, “I have a better idea. Like I said, I don’t want to talk about our history right now. Instead, let’s call a truce and be friends for the night.”

Chapter Three

“Feeling better?”

She turned to Jasper. The fried cheese sticks and water went a long way to making her feel better. So did the friendship, even if it was only temporary. Jasper listened as she mumbled into her breaded mozzarella.

“Much. Thank you.”

He was looking at her with an expression that she couldn’t decipher. “What?” she asked.

“I’m not gonna lie,” he said with total confidence in his voice. “I’ve thought about seeing you again since that summer. But never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined I’d run into you at a hole-in-the-wall bar of all places.”

“Would it have made it any less awkward if we’d met behind the library? I seem to remember spending a lot of time with you there.” Her traitorous eyes flickered down to his lips.

“Well, I remember spending a lot of time with you in my car, in my basement...”

“All those times you sneaked into my room after my parents went to sleep,” she added.

“And one epic moment in the middle of the football field.”

She covered her face with her hands. “Ohmigod! I can’t believe we did that. What were we thinking?”

He let out a sound that was purely male. “I know what I was thinking.” He wiggled his eyebrows. She wondered how one man could manage to look both adorable and sexy at the same time.

She leaned forward. “I was never thinking. Not when you were around.” And wasn’t that the problem? No one else in her life had been able to make her lose her train of thought. Even now, she could get lost in those mesmerizing baby blues. Which was why she needed to take a step back. But with their closeness it was hard. So she sat back in her chair, flung her hand in the air to signal the bartender.

Jasper’s brow shot up. “Another one?”

“I’m twenty-nine. I’m divorced. And I’m thirsty.”

His gaze roamed over her again and his eyes darkened. “Yeah, I’m thirsty, too.”

God, she wanted to kiss him. Luckily, she was saved by the bell when George, otherwise known as the burly, bearded bartender, strolled over. “Still dating that little brunette from the next town over?” he asked Jasper.

“Maria? From the ice-cream place?” Jasper asked.

“No, the other one. The one who always has part of her hair in a braid,” George said, pointing to the braid in his own long hair that was tied back with a red bandanna.

“Oh, you mean Julie.” Jasper shook his head. “No, that’s over.”

Carissa raised her eyebrow. She couldn’t help it. Same old Jasper apparently. Except for the year they’d dated, he’d always been a ladies’ man. Not that she could blame him now. After all, he was gorgeous, young, successful. Why wouldn’t he be the toast of the town? And yet this conversation was leaving a very unsettled feeling in the pit of her stomach.

George placed a large mug of beer in front of Jasper, who offered a questioning look. “It’s on the house,” George said. “Despite your active and envious dating life, thought you could use a pick-me-up after your little spill into the bay earlier today.” With that, he turned and headed toward two older men, more than likely local fishermen if she had to guess, sitting at the end of the bar. They nodded at Jasper and started snickering.

“You fell into the bay?” she asked Jasper.

“It was nothing.”

“Not what the Bayside Blogger is saying,” one of the men at the end of the bar offered.

“Bayside Blogger said you saw your high school girlfriend and fell into the bay,” added the other man.

Carissa’s mouth dropped open. She’d thought someone had been around her when she’d stopped to look out over the water. Jasper had been at the dock when she pulled up a couple hours ago? He’d fallen into the bay? Because of her?

“Jasp...”

“Don’t say anything.”

She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. But she decided to give him a break since he looked so uncomfortable. “Who is this Bayside Blogger I keep hearing about?”

He looked relieved at the change in topic and proceeded to tell her all about the town’s biggest gossip columnist as they enjoyed their drinks.

“So, Carissa...” He trailed off and his eyes met hers. A shadow fell over his face. “What happened, Car? I mean, what really happened between you and the man you married?”

Car. No one had called her that in ten years. Such a simple little nickname, and yet it had a huge effect on softening her heart.

She didn’t know if it was the use of Car or the alcohol or the stress of the last couple of months. But something had her turning toward her first love and spilling everything.

“We met in college. We got married shortly after that. We lived in Chicago.”

He waited. “And?”

“And what?”

He chuckled. “Come on, Car. That’s nothing. I could have found out more information from Twitter.”

She relented. “Fine. Our marriage was good. At first.” She twisted her empty shot glass around in circles. “But Preston started working longer hours, taking more business trips.”

“Uh-oh,” Jasper said.

“I knew he was cheating on me. I don’t know how long I knew. Only that I didn’t really want to admit it. But when I found him in our newly purchased California king bed with someone, I knew keeping up the pretense of a perfect marriage wasn’t going to be possible.” And still, she hadn’t been the one to file for divorce. Pathetic. But she kept that to herself.

“Why did you marry him in the first place?”

Because he was an escape. Because he was ambitious and driven. In other words, because he was the polar opposite of her father. Of course, she didn’t dare tell Jasper that, either.

“It’s a long story,” she said, in lieu of the truth.

“Okay, then let me ask a simpler question. Where did you work?”

She took a long pull of her beer and wished like hell that was a simple question. “Nope.” He raised a brow. “I didn’t work.”

His mouth fell open. “You? You didn’t work. You, the queen of ‘have ambition, get some drive and determination.’ Little Miss ‘why don’t you have goals, Jasper?’ did not actually have a job?”

When he put it like that...

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Jasper ran a hand through his thick hair, clearly exasperated.

Her cheeks were heating up and she knew it had nothing to do with the alcohol or the stuffy bar. She didn’t mean to get defensive when she said, “I mean, I did work at an event-planning firm. For a few years.”

“Before you quit to be a stay-at-home wife?” He held up his hands in surrender. “I’m not judging you or anyone else for staying at home. I’m just completely confused given the last conversation we had before you left Bayside.”

God, she’d been such a brat to him that day. Briefly, she considered telling him about her parents. Revealing why she’d acted so drastically and broken up with him. But he jumped in with a question.

“What are you going to do now?”

She paused for a long moment before answering. “Become a caterer. At least, I hope so.”

“Seriously?”

Was it just her or had he moved closer? She could smell his cologne, a clean, crisp scent that wrapped itself around her, making the dirty bar and stale alcohol smell slide away into the background.

“Sure,” she said, her voice breathy. “I love to cook, and I was the queen of the dinner party back in Chicago.”

“You have experience as a caterer?” His arm was mere centimeters from hers. Although they weren’t touching, her body was tensed in anticipation.

“I do.” She would have crossed her fingers at the lie if Jasper wasn’t sitting so close. She did have some experience. Informal experience, but that was a start. Maybe she didn’t technically know how to run a business, but she could cook. In that area, she was confident. And she’d decided back in Chicago that she would cling to that confidence.

“So really you moved back here to start your business.” Jasper’s finger finally made its way to her skin, traveling from her wrist slowly over her forearm and up toward her elbow, leaving a trail of tingles in its wake.

“Yep.” Damn, she couldn’t concentrate.

He turned, angling himself. His gaze flickered down to take in her lips, which she conveniently pursed for him.

What in the hell was she doing? She couldn’t do that. Not with him. Could she? She supposed she was officially divorced now. Yes, she was a free agent. She could do anything—or, um, anyone—she wanted.

And maybe tonight, she wanted Jasper. Maybe she needed the connection with him because it had never felt so easy with anyone else. It wasn’t like they hadn’t slept together a million times already.

Confused, she threw back the final shot of tequila. Then she nodded to indicate his finger, which was still gently caressing her skin. “Jasper, what are you doing?”

His grin spread slowly but assuredly. “What do you think I’m doing?”

Even as the words left his mouth, she was moving closer to him. His eyes flickered down to take in her mouth, and she responded by biting her lip. She opened her mouth to say something seductive, something sexy. In a practiced move she used to perform all the time when she was younger, Carissa flipped her hair and placed her elbow up on the bar. Only, she missed the bar and nearly nose-dived into his lap, and she let out a very loud belch.

Embarrassed beyond belief, she shook her head.

Jasper grinned. “Yep, I think we may be done here for the night.” He pushed the mug with her remaining beer away from her.

“I’m not ready to leave.” But even as the words left her mouth she let out a hiccup. When had she become buzzed?

“Last call,” George bellowed out from the end of the bar to groans around the room.

Jasper nodded. “See, time for everyone to go. Not just you.”

Carissa rose from the bar stool and almost toppled over. Whoa. Maybe she was a little more than merely buzzed. She had to grasp the edge of the sticky bar to keep from falling. “Gotta pay,” she informed Jasper, who had already handed his credit card to George.

“I got it,” he said.

“No!” she said defiantly.

“Consider it a welcome-back present.”

“No,” she repeated, trying to untangle the straps of her purse. “Gotta be independent. Can’t rely on a man.”

Jasper scribbled his signature on the check and turned to her. “You can’t even get into your purse. Come on.”

Suddenly, this seemed like a bad idea. She couldn’t leave with Jasper, her ex-boyfriend. “Nope,” she told him. “You hate me. Can’t go with you.”

“You have to go with me. I’m going to walk you to your aunt’s house.”

She swayed and tried to right herself, but Jasper had to reach out and steady her. “What will the peoples think?”

“I don’t think ‘the peoples’ in this bar really care too much about anything except getting in one last drink order before George shuts down. Now, shall we?” He nodded toward the door.

Her head felt fuzzy. Thick and fuzzy. And she was very tired.

“Carissa Blackwell,” Jasper said. “Get your hot butt out the door.”

“You think my butt is hot?”

He made a show of looking around her back and then considering. “Yep. That is one fine behind. Now let me get a better view by walking to the door.”

“Okay, but you’re not the boss of me. I can get to the door by myself.”

And with that she took two steps forward before tripping and ending up on the floor.

* * *

“Everything okay?” George asked, an amused expression visible, even under the depths of his beard.

“Yeah, I got this.” Jasper turned to take in Carissa, who was currently in a pile on the floor laughing her head off. He sighed. He probably should have cut her off earlier.

After helping her up, Jasper waved good-night to George and the other patrons who were busy settling their bills. Then he ushered Carissa out the door and into the dimly lit gravel parking lot.

Even as he concentrated on getting her across the lot, he couldn’t help but think about the night.

Carissa Blackwell was back in Bayside. Carissa Blackwell was divorced. Carissa Blackwell was incredibly drunk.

He didn’t want to admit to himself that he’d been flirting with her. He’d looked into her eyes and gotten lost in old memories. Something he’d been adamant about not doing. Seeing her walk into The Rusty Keg had his insides all twisted up. The anger and hurt he’d felt all those years ago had bubbled up to the surface.

Then she’d admitted her husband cheated on her and something changed. Maybe because of the embarrassment that emanated from her when she told him. Perhaps it was the way her gaze flicked downward every time she said the word divorce.

Jasper wasn’t entirely sure. All he knew was that the resentment took a back seat to caring.

Didn’t take much to move closer and eye that tempting mouth. He shook his head. Everyone knew he was a big flirt. That’s how he liked to communicate. And he hadn’t seen Carissa in ten years, so they had a lot of communicating to catch up on. That’s all.

They walked to the end of the parking lot. She was swaying and stumbling a little more than he would like to see. But cabs weren’t abundant at this hour in Bayside, and he needed to get her home. She stopped in front of him, her long hair settling around her heart-shaped face.

“It was weird to see you tonight.”

He didn’t know what to say. That may be the truth, but still.

“But I’m glad I did,” she continued. “You still make me feel tingly.”

Tingly? Was that good or bad? “Really?”

“Yep,” she said. “You were my best friend and my boyfriend. And you know what else? You were my first love.”

Something softened inside him. “And you were mine.”

“But now you hate me. Except for tonight when we’re playing nice-nice.”

He sighed long and loud, a decade’s worth of angst spilling out. “I don’t hate you.”

“You’re not happy with me,” she said.

He shook his head. “No. Hey, it’s your birthday though.”

“Not anymore. Past midnight.” She ran a hand down her side, highlighting her killer body. “Mmm-hmm.” She licked her lips and those mysterious gray eyes met his and he lost all train of thought. He placed one hand at the back of her neck, pulling her toward him. With the other hand, he pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

He shouldn’t kiss her. He really, really shouldn’t kiss her. And yet he was tilting his head.

Walk away, Dumont. But he couldn’t get his feet to work. It was Carissa who finally broke the spell. She tilted her head up, lips pursed, eyes fluttering closed. Jasper met her halfway, pressing his lips to hers.

Instantly, he felt a spark. That feeling he only got with her. But it had been such a long time since he’d experienced it, he almost dropped to his knees.

Instead, he brought her closer and devoured her lips. She wound both arms around his neck, holding tight as she met his lips with equal desire.

The sound of a car starting snapped him out of the moment. “Damn,” he said, looking around the parking lot, hoping whoever just got in their car hadn’t seen anything.

When he turned back to her, he saw that her lips were swollen and her eyes hazy. He wanted to kiss her again right there and then.

“That didn’t feel like hate to me,” she said, her voice husky and appealing.

“Carissa...” he began.

“I broke up with you.”

“I remember,” he said.

She scrunched up her nose. “That was mean.”

“Little bit,” he admitted, and took a breath. “Why did you break up with me?”

“I can’t tell you.”

Amused by her, or maybe by the whole situation, he grinned. “Oh yeah? Why not?”

“Because there are three of you and um, uh, I’m dizzy.”

Oh crap. He directed her to a tree stump on the road that would lead back to town. “Do you need water?” he asked. “I can go back to the bar and grab a bottle.”

She was taking long, deep breaths, focusing on the ground. She held a hand out. “No, just give me a minute.”

He gave her ten. Once she appeared to get herself under control, she met his eyes. If he had any doubt about her being drunk, it was cleared up when she tried to stand and wavered. Decision made, Jasper put her arm around his shoulders and anchored her with an arm around her waist. Then they started walking slowly back to town.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“To my place. It’s closer,” he said before she could argue.

“In Chicago, we can call cabs and Uber.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not in Chicago anymore.”

“Nope.” She looked up at him. “I’m here in Bayside, with you.” Then she tapped a finger to the tip of his nose. “Boop.”

Despite everything else, he laughed. “Okay, Boopy, let’s keep walking. Maybe we can get to my condo by sunrise.”

In the end it didn’t take that long. Although it felt pretty onerous when Carissa launched into a rendition of her favorite Lady Gaga song, followed by some old-school Britney Spears. Carissa had many talents, but singing had never been one of them. He thought he heard some dogs wailing off in the distance and wondered if he would ever regain the hearing from the ear she sang/screamed in. In any case, he’d never been so happy to reach the center of town. Although if he was being honest, it was pretty nice to hear the sound of her voice again. Even her off-key voice.

Jasper simply pointed at the building that housed his condo across the street. “I’m going to take care of you for the night. I live there.”

Carissa looked up. “I don’t. Where’s my house? Oh yeah, I lost it in the divorce.”

He wasn’t sure what she was babbling about but it didn’t matter. They were in the homestretch. Just needed to cross the street.

And that’s when Carissa let out a long, loud yawn and slumped against him. She was out.

“You are lucky you’re not going to remember this because it would really piss you off.” With that, he repositioned her body, took a deep breath and flung her over his shoulder, caveman-style.

He put all of his effort into carrying her, concentrating so hard that he almost missed when she murmured, “I really missed you.”

Almost.

Chapter Four

Bayside Blogger @BSBlogger

Spotted at the Rusty Keg last night: Carissa Blackwell & Jasper Dumont. Reconciliation? Mayhaps. A better question would be, where did they end the night?

There were three things that Carissa did not need to open her eyes to know. First, the sun was streaming through a window, making her feel like a vampire being burned at the end of the long, dark night.

Next, she was fully aware that she’d had too much to drink the night before. Her head was pounding and her mouth was dry and gritty. She’d definitely consumed one tequila shot too many.

But most importantly, even with her eyes held firmly shut, she knew without a doubt that she wasn’t alone. Someone was watching her.

“Morning, sunshine.” Jasper’s cool, calm voice rang out with a touch of humor to it from across the room.

“Hmphhjmelskjk,” she mumbled incoherently as a reply.

“I thought you might say something like that.” The mattress shifted and the rocking motion did nothing to appease her headache. “I’m going to grab you a bottle of water and some aspirin.”

“Thanks,” she ground out even as she buried her head further in the pillow.

But once Jasper was gone, she did finally peek out from her childish hiding spot. The events of the night before came crashing back. The evening had started off innocently enough with a trip to the grocery store. Then she’d ended up at the Rusty Keg with Jasper, where it was possible she’d drunk all of the alcohol in the whole world.

She searched her fuzzy brain and tried to remember all the particulars, but the details were slow to return. She knew she’d talked to Jasper for hours. She’d told him about her divorce and wanting to start her business. Then they’d flirted and she’d fallen on her face on the dirty bar floor, and then they’d gone outside and...

Her eyes widened and she shook her head back and forth, which only served to exacerbate her already-throbbing head. “No, no, no,” she said aloud. They’d kissed. No, worse, they’d made out like they were still teenagers in the damn parking lot.

What had she been thinking? Well, nothing, duh. Thanks to the tequila. And the small part of her brain not coerced by alcohol had succumbed to the power of Jasper’s clever lips. He’d always been an amazing kisser. She touched a finger to her lips now and that’s when she remembered she was in a bed.

Carissa looked around. She saw her jeans on the dresser on the other side of the room. She flew out of the bed. She still had her tank top and bra on, but other than that, she was in her underwear.

At least this is a pair of my sexiest underwear. She berated herself. That wasn’t the point. The point was that—

“You.” She pointed at Jasper as he came back through the door, carrying a tray. “I don’t have any pants on.”

He grinned, his eyes roaming down her body. “I can see that.”

“You took my pants off. You...you...”

“U, v, w, x, y, z.”

She stared at him, mouth hanging open. “This isn’t the time for jokes. Did we...”

Tray still in hand, he leaned back against the doorjamb, an amused expression on his face. “Did we what?”

She pointed at the bed and then at him and then back to herself. “Did we sleep together?” she whispered.

His face fell. “You were pretty drunk, Carissa. Give me some credit.”

Immediately, she felt like a fool. Of course, he’d never do something like that. “Ohmigod, Jasper. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said.

She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly aware that she must look absolutely disgusting. She was sure her hair went beyond a messy bird’s nest. It was probably a whole bird mansion.

“I bring peace offerings.” He held the tray up. “You look like you need these.” He handed over a couple of aspirin, a plate with two pieces of freshly buttered toast, and a glass of water. “You shouldn’t take those on an empty stomach.”

She sank back onto the bed. “You brought me home and took care of me?”

“I didn’t do much. You were out, um, pretty fast.” He said that comment strangely and it had her head tilting. Then he quickly followed up with, “I slept in the guest room.”

Damn, why did he have to be so nice? His sudden kindness—so different from the teenager she remembered—made her feel...things. A blush crept into her cheeks, and desperate to hide her reaction, she turned to take a moment and admire his place.

His king-size bed was certainly comfy, decorated with a fluffy, light blue duvet cover and matching pillows. The furniture was all wood, very masculine. But the room was tidy and there were amazingly tall windows, almost the entire height of the wall, that let in the light she’d been cursing a few minutes ago. If her head wasn’t throbbing she would be loving all that natural light and the view of the water beyond.

She could see through the open door into the living space. It was an open concept with brick walls, except for one, which housed floor-to-ceiling bookcases. She shifted on the bed, craning her neck to take in the kitchen, too. But all she could make out from this angle was a large island.

Jasper chuckled. “I can give you a tour, you know.”

Her face grew hot. “Sorry. I don’t mean to be nosy. Just curious.”

“I understand.” He pointed to his dresser where her capri jeans were neatly folded; her shoes sat on the floor nearby. He nodded toward the left. “Bathroom’s over there. Why don’t you take a moment and then meet me in the other room?”

It was only then that she noticed he was dressed in workout clothes. “Please do not tell me you’ve been to the gym.” She jumped up. “What time is it?”

He chuckled again but also held his hands out in a soothing gesture. “Don’t worry, it’s still really early. I never sleep late.”

She tilted her head in consideration. That was different from high school, when she’d always wait until at least eleven to call him on the weekends.

“I have some exercise equipment in one of the spare bedrooms. Helps me clear my head.”

One of the spare rooms? “Exactly how big is this place?”

He grinned. “Three bedrooms, two and a half baths, a nice loft over the living room, and killer views.”

A large, most likely expensive, condo. Just like she’d had with her husband in Chicago. Although her condo with Preston had been done in all beige and neutral tones, looking more like the model home real estate agents showed prospective clients than someone’s living quarters. Jasper’s place, on the other hand, had more of an edgy, urban vibe. Plus, she kinda wanted to marry these amazing wood floors.

“I’ll go make us some coffee.”

With that, he left the room and Carissa quickly chomped down the toast and swallowed the aspirin. Then she jumped from the bed, grabbed her jeans off the dresser and ran into the bathroom. Of course, she stopped to admire his killer walk-in closet on the way. The bathroom was just as nice and tastefully done as the rest of the place. Double vanity, separate soaker tub, and a shower that looked like it had no less than a hundred showerheads.

She stopped gawking at everything and she was very proud to say that she did not give in to the temptation to go through his medicine cabinet. Instead, Carissa quickly dressed, splashed some water on her face, did her best job of brushing her teeth with her finger, and ran a comb through her hair. Not a massive improvement, but definitely better than a couple minutes ago.

The aroma of coffee reached her nose and she followed it out to the kitchen. And if she thought she coveted the wood floors or the orgasmic shower, that was nothing compared to his kitchen. New stainless steel appliances, a farmhouse sink, and a gorgeous island that looked to be made out of reclaimed wood on the bottom and marble counter on top. She ran her hands along the cool stone and tried to keep from drooling.

“You like?”

“It kind of makes my aunt’s tiny kitchen seem like an anthill.”

“Is that where you plan to start your business from?”

“Of course.” As he handed her a mug of steaming hot coffee, it occurred to her that he didn’t realize her full situation. Jasper had no way of knowing that she was broke and desperate.

“You should consider renting out a space for a year or so. That would give you some separation. Plus, it would be better for meeting with clients. I could show you some places, give you a couple recommendations.”

She sipped the coffee. “I thought we called a truce only for last night.”

He considered. “Showing you real estate would be business.”

Oh. Not really the answer she’d wanted. Then again, what did she expect? He’d been kinder to her than she deserved.

She ran a hand through her hair. “This coffee’s good.”

“Thanks. It’s from The Brewside. A coffeehouse in the town square,” he finished, clearly realizing she wouldn’t be familiar with the changes in Bayside.

She put the mug down on the counter. “No, thank you. For getting me here last night, the coffee, for picking my clothes up, the toast. You didn’t have to do all of that.”

“I would have done it for anyone.”

Again, not the response she’d expected. The sides of her mouth turned down in a frown.

“I would have let you sleep longer,” he said, “but I have to get to work shortly and I didn’t want you to wake up in a strange environment.”

She eyed the clock above the stove. “It’s still really early.”

“I like to get into the office early.”

“Of course,” she said, and pointed toward the door. “I’ll just get out of your hair.”

“No, Car, I didn’t mean you had to leave. Stay as long as you want.”

She shook her head. “I’m sure you don’t want some hungover girl lolling around in your place.”

“I’ve had plenty of girls, hungover and stone-cold sober, loll around here.” He snapped his mouth shut.

Plenty of girls. She looked away. What did she think? Jasper hadn’t been dating for the last ten years? He became some kind of monk or something? Look at him. He was probably fending off women left and right.

“That didn’t come out right,” he said sheepishly.

Carissa held up a hand. “It’s fine, Jasp. Don’t worry about it.” He seemed uncomfortable still. “What? Is there something else?”

He eyed his coffee mug. “Just something that happened last night. You probably don’t remember but we...”

“Kissed,” she finished. And what a kiss it had been. But after his “plenty of women” comment, she decided to keep that to herself. “I do remember.”

“I’m really sorry about that.”

He was? Because despite everything else, she wasn’t sure that she was sorry. In fact, she kind of liked it. “Why in the world would you be sorry?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “You were drunk, Carissa. I took advantage of you.”

She let out a relieved breath. “Jasp, we’ve kissed each other a million times before.”

“I know, but...” He trailed off and she wondered what he wanted to say. Finally, he said, “More coffee?”

She shook her head. When he turned and crossed to the opposite counter to refill his own mug, his phone vibrated, dancing across the surface of the island. She tried not to look but couldn’t help it. It was too close. Close enough to see a text message from someone named Simone Graves.

Morning, cutie. Sorry I missed having drinks w/u last nite. I’ll make up for it. Promise. This was punctuated by a kissy-face emoji.

Wasn’t it a tad bit early for emojis of any kind? Carissa couldn’t contain the sigh.

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