Chapter One
Dakota Jones had learned three things in the past three months, during which she’d landed on the pages of Italian tabloids and Page Six, been labeled a homewrecker, and lost her job days before her promotion to weekend anchor was to be announced.
Lesson one: Run a background check on any guy who so much as says hello, let alone one who has a killer smile and a thick Italian accent that turns your knees to Jell-O.
Lesson two: Learn the native tongue of the man you’re dating. That way you’ll know whether he’s conversing with the wife you didn’t know he had.
Lesson three: Don’t blow all of your disposable income on things that are so…well, disposable.
Because now, instead of settling into her new job or making plans with friends for the long Fourth of July weekend in New York, she was crammed into a crowded, rickety old bus taking her far away from the city she’d called home for the past sixteen years.
Dakota had fallen in love with New York City when her mother had taken her to “the most amazing place in the world” for a shopping trip at the age of nine. “Couldn’t you just imagine living here one day?” her mother had mused as they stood in Times Square among the soaring buildings, bustling crowds, and glamorous people.
Mesmerized by her surroundings, Dakota could imagine it. And right there on that hot sidewalk, she’d declared that someday she would.
She’d built her entire career on the goal of becoming a lead news anchor in New York, so losing the weekend anchor gig that had brought her one step closer to that dream was devastating. Being left with no choice but to return to Holly Grove Island—the little town in the Outer Banks where she’d grown up and which she had been actively avoiding since the death of her mother five years ago—rubbed salt in the open wound that was once her career.
After eight hours and two bus changes, Dakota was finally deposited with a few of her fellow travelers at the gas station doubling as a bus stop in Elizabeth City, North Carolina, an hour away from Holly Grove Island.
Dakota rummaged in her overpriced designer crossbody bag for a tip for the driver. The bag was a gift from her now ex-boyfriend, Marcello Giovannetti. A token of his affection. She’d been thrilled when he’d given her the thoughtful but expensive gift. But now it was a bitter reminder of how gullible she’d been.
She was an investigative reporter who’d neglected to investigate the man who’d swept her off her feet. But everything about the night they’d met seemed so damn perfect. Like a fairy tale. And for once, it had been nice that there was some mystery to the relationship. That she didn’t know every detail about a man before they’d gone out.
And how’d that work out for you, genius?
Disastrously. But she’d gotten herself into this awful mess, so she would get herself out of it.
By running home to Daddy?
Dakota was really starting to hate the little voice in the back of her head. Her father had always predicted that her big-city adventure would go kaboom.
The city is a dangerous, cruel place, Kota. It’ll chew you up and spit you out.
Returning home with her tail between her legs would only prove her father right. He’d never say “I told you so,” but the words would always be hanging in the air between them.
Maybe there was a way she could go home and keep her dignity.
On the the long, grueling bus ride, during which her left butt cheek had fallen asleep more than once, she had devised a plan. She’d tell her father she lost her job at the news station because of cutbacks. He could relate to that. The same thing had happened to him ages ago when he worked at a factory. Before he’d gone into law enforcement and eventually become the chief of police on Holly Grove Island, a job he’d retired from a few years ago. This way, maybe her father would never have to know how royally she’d screwed up.
Then there was her other concern. In a town of fewer than a thousand year-round residents, running into Dexter Roberts—her high school sweetheart—was inevitable. Dakota had fallen hard for him. She’d been so sure they were meant to be together she was blindsided when he dumped her after his first semester of college.
After all this time, it still stung.
Marcello had been the first man she’d actually envisioned a future with since Dexter.
She could hear her late mother’s voice in that sweet, Eastern North Carolina drawl that Dakota had worked so hard to rid herself of.
You sure know how to pick ’em, sweetie.
Dakota collected her luggage, then moved to the little patio outside the convenience store to wait for her ride. She’d opted for the longer bus trip to give herself more time to prepare for the return home. And for the questions she’d inevitably be asked.
Yet as she stood on the platform awaiting her ride, she felt no more prepared than she’d been when she’d stepped onto the bus early that morning.
“Dakota Jones!”
“Sinclair Buchanan.” An involuntary smile eased the tension in Dakota’s shoulders as she turned in the direction of that unmistakable twang. After the hell she’d been through the past few months, a genuine smile and a full heart felt…foreign. She dragged her oversize luggage behind her as she made her way toward her friend. “God, how long has it been?”
Sinclair was as beautiful as ever. Her tawny brown skin was flawless, and her natural, rich brown curls had been straightened and hung just past her shoulders, accented by honey-blond ombre waves. Her large hazel eyes practically glowed from within.
Sinclair embraced her so tightly she could barely breathe. “Too long, since your uppity behind decided you weren’t coming home anymore.” Sinclair finally released Dakota and met her gaze. “If I weren’t so happy to see you right now, Dakota Jones, I’d be tellin’ you about yourself.”
“Missed you, too, Sin.” Dakota grinned. “Thanks for picking me up. I know it was last minute and I had no right to ask.”
“You know I’d never pass up the chance to usher you back into town. And just in time for the big Fourth of July Festival. Always was your favorite event of the year.” Sinclair threaded her arm through Dakota’s. “C’mon. Let’s get you home. You must be exhausted.”
“And starving.”
“Got you covered on that.” Sinclair clicked her alarm, and a shiny black Lexus SUV beeped in response. “I packed a little care package for you and your dad.”
Dakota turned toward the luxury SUV and cocked her head. “Is that you?”
“Business has been good.” Sinclair grinned proudly. “Things are a lot different on the island since you were last here, Dakota. I think you’re gonna like being back home.”
“I’m not staying, Sin.” It wasn’t what her friend wanted to hear, but Dakota wouldn’t give Sin false expectations. “This is a pit stop while I contemplate my next move.”
“You sure, hon?” Sinclair struggled to lift Dakota’s bag. “’Cause I swear you got everything you own in this bag, including the kitchen sink.”
“Sorry. Let me get that. I was dazed by your flashy new ride.” Dakota helped her friend lift the bag into the back of her truck. Sin slammed the rear hatch, and they climbed inside.