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      LYRICAL PRESS

      Kensington Publishing Corp.

       www.kensingtonbooks.com

      Copyright

      Lyrical Press books are published by

      Kensington Publishing Corp. 119 West 40th Street New York, NY 10018

      Copyright © 2016 by Lynn Cahoon

      All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

      All Kensington titles, imprints, and distributed lines are available at special quantity discounts for bulk purchases for sales promotion, premiums, fund- raising, and educational or institutional use.

      To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

      Special book excerpts or customized printings can also be created to fit specific needs. For details, write or phone the office of the Kensington Special Sales Manager:

      Kensington Publishing Corp.

      119 West 40th Street

      New York, NY 10018

      Attn. Special Sales Department. Phone: 1-800-221-2647.

      Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

      LYRICAL PRESS Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

      Lyrical Press and the L logo are trademarks of Kensington Publishing Corp.

      First Electronic Edition: June 2016

      eISBN-13: 978-1-60183-631-1

      eISBN-10: 1-60183-631-7

      First Print Edition: April 2016

      ISBN-13: 978-1-60183-632-8

      ISBN-10: 1-60183-632-5

      Printed in the United States of America

      Dedication

      To the Florida/Georgia line crew—Thanks for putting up with my murder plotting discussions.

      Acknowledgments

      Imaginary friends are frowned upon once a child reaches a certain age. As a writer, I spend a lot of time with my imaginary friends. Jill, Aunt Jackie, Greg; they all inhabit my thoughts as I twist around a plot for a new book. Just as important as my imaginary gang is my work gang. These are the people who keep me sane during the day or, sometimes, acknowledge my craziness in a good way. I appreciate the way you see each problem as a challenge and face it with humor and fun.

      Much thanks to the writing community. When meeting other authors online or in conferences, I’ve found out one true fact: We’re all the same. In love with storytelling and willing to do anything for a chance to write, one more tale.

      As always, thanks to the Kensington crew for making me look good. You all rock.

      Chapter 1

      Is family defined by blood or is it more than that?

      I looked around the table at the June Business-to-Business meeting as attendees started to gather. Aunt Jackie stood with Mary Sullivan, her best friend. I loved hearing them talking about the cruise my aunt and her new boyfriend, Harrold, would be taking in a few months. Bill Sullivan, the committee chair and Mary’s husband, stood at the counter, refilling his cup and glancing around the room, as he took stock of the attendance. Typically, these meetings had about ten to fifteen representatives, but summer was the busy season for our tourist town. Even with the busy schedules, we had almost a full house at twenty. I’d had to send Sasha into the back to pull out a couple of boxes of cookies to serve.

      They were all here for one reason. Kathi Corbin, the newest member of our community and our committee was holding court over at the couch near the romance section. Kathi’s Texas drawl and infectious laugh had the men enthralled. I’d heard rumors the girl had been a Miss San Antonio and had been shortlisted to win Miss Texas, except something had gone awry. She hadn’t taken the crown home, ending the competition at the bottom of the top ten.

      Having only been in one beauty contest in my entire life and that on a whim, I couldn’t imagine where she’d gone wrong. She seemed to play the role well. I walked over to the couch where she was holding court and handed her a cup of coffee. “I’m Jill Gardner, South Cove business liaison to the city council and owner/manager of Coffee, Books, and More.” Or at least my aunt lets me think I’m the manager of the shop, even though she makes most of the decisions and then tells me what she’s done.

      She took the cup from me. “I love your place. I hope we can make some sort of agreement on you guys selling my products over here. If we partner, we’ll both increase our business.”

      “Let’s talk next week. I’m sure we can carve out an agreement.” I tried to source locally-made product for the shop. The treats were all made by Pies on the Fly, a local bakery. To me it made good financial sense to help another South Cove business survive. I walked back to the table and surveyed the room.

      Sasha paused next to me with a filled carafe of coffee. Sasha’s my newest employee and came to us as an intern through the Work First program last fall. The single mom had quickly fit into our small staff and Aunt Jackie and I decided to hire her after the ten-week program ended.

      “She’s quite the charmer,” Sasha whispered. Her happiness made her soft brown skin glow. “Even Josh is offering to get her more coffee.”

      I nodded. The room was separated into two groups. The women clustered around the table waiting for the meeting to start, and the men, except Bill, assembled around Kathi. An old Martina McBride song started going in my head about a woman out for fun but before I could answer Sasha, Bill clapped his hands above his head, trying to get everyone’s attention.

      “It’s five past starting time, folks. I want to honor your busy schedules as well as our host’s kind offer of her space. I’m pretty sure Jill would rather be serving coffee and this amazing Apple Caramel cheesecake to paying customers.” He smiled at me and waved the group over to the table. “Bring your coffee with you. We’ll pass around the carafes while we’re talking.”

      Kathi sat. Josh Thomas and Dustin Austin jostled each other for the chair next to her. As they jockeyed

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