After the sudden death of his wife two years ago, Darren Griffin has finally found peace. He has a good life, good job, two daughters he’d do anything for, and a beautiful home on the beach.
Greer Monroe is grieving the loss of her father. It’s the final rung on the broken ladder that’s become her life—crappy job, no friends, and a cheating ex-boyfriend. At the insistence of her aunt, Greer decides to spend some time at her family’s beach house.
When the glee-filled sound of children’s laughter dances through the breeze, Greer finds herself smiling again. The neighbor girls are carefree, depicting a life Greer has only dreamed about. Husband, children, happiness—a family. And their father, Darren, he’s everything a woman could ever want.
But it is, of course, only a dream.
She can’t stay at Carolina Beach, no matter how much she adores Darren and his daughters. She has responsibilities at home, a mother who needs her. Where there’s love, there’s heartbreak, and she can’t go through that again. And she sure as hell won’t do that to those little girls.
But Darren isn’t letting her go that easily. It’s been so long since he’s felt this way for anyone. Greer is his missing piece, a piece he never thought he’d find.
Saying goodbye is hard, but sometimes starting over is even harder.
Only when they dare to dream again, will they ever dare to love.
“So who is the girl?” My mother’s question confused me, and the look on my face must have expressed that confusion. “The one the girls keep talking about,” she added unhelpfully. “Vivian said you were talking to a pretty lady today and she made you smile. The one from the blue house.”
I shook my head and chuckled as I finally understood. How could a friendly introduction between two neighbors be interpreted as anything more than it was? Then again, I was dealing with two girls that had their pushy, nosy, need to-fix-it-all granny fishing for any snippet of my nonexistent personal life.
The woman was hell-bent on me being happy, but I was happy. I had my girls, and I didn’t need anyone else.
“Just a new occupant in the vacation home behind us,” I said and got back to working on the pipe below her kitchen sink.
But she kept hovering. “Oh yeah,” she said dragging out the word a little longer than necessary.
“Yeah, Ma,” I said, ignoring her strange interest in nothing. “Just a simple hello, nothing more.”
“That isn’t what Vivian told me,” she said, her voice laced with humor.
Oh Lord, the woman either needed a damn hobby or she needed to focus on my brother, who was twenty-six and still living above her damn garage. He was the one who needed a push, not me.
“Vivian is four years old, and she still believes in princesses and dragons.” I leaned out from under the sink and gave my mother an exasperated look. “Gossiping with my daughter about my love life, or lack thereof, isn’t your style, Ma.”
“Yesh, it is.” I looked to my left to find Dean, my brother, talking through a mouthful of chips as the crumbs fell from his lips to the floor at his feet. “She doesh it all the time,” he assured me, still attempting to talk with his mouth full. I looked back at my mother.
She shrugged and gave me that innocent look she used to her advantage often, only this time I didn’t buy it. She was guilty.
Guilty of prying and using my daughter—or daughters, I had to assume—as her window into my life.
The woman was evil.
She lives in Illinois and enjoys spending time with her husband and two children. You will always find her with her kindle or paperback in hand as it is her favorite pass time.