THE WOMAN FROM NOWHERE, a page-turning new grumpy-sunshine, small town, mystery romance set in New York Times Bestselling Author, Kristen Ashley’s, Misted Pines world, is available now!

She can’t escape.

He can’t either…

After a heartbreaking betrayal, Mabel Adams reinvents herself for the fourth time. Regardless of the alarming reputation of the deceptively sleepy town of Misted Pines, she decides to move all the way across the country to start yet again.

Mabel has a one-night stand with a mountain man who rocks her world in bed but doesn’t tell her his name.

The next day, after receiving a threatening note from her neighbors, she discovers she’s living next to an extremist cult where the women go in and are never seen again.

After serving, former Navy SEAL Hutch Hutchison is living a peaceful life on his patch in the mountains outside Misted Pines. He’s been burned so many times by women, he’s happy to train his guard dogs, play his guitar, live remote, and most of all, quiet.

Until he hooks up with a beautiful woman who lives just down the way. And then he discovers she’s been threatened by the cult next door.

Hutch’s protective instinct sparks, and he decides his next mission is to keep Mabel safe at all costs.

But there’s something even hinkier about that cult than Hutch or local law enforcement expect.

As Hutch executes the riskiest mission of his life—keeping Mabel safe at the same time keeping both of their hearts intact—Hutch and the Sheriff’s Department try to unravel the mystery of The Lion and The Lamb before it’s too late.

Because Mabel is in their crosshairs.

And Hutch is not about to allow her to disappear.

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“…an unputdownable fusion of sizzling chemistry and sharp dialogue in an edge-of your-seat, suspense-filled storyline.” ~Danielle, Red Cheeks Reads

Check out Danielle’s 5 SMOOCHES review!

EXCERPT:

Chapter One

“Pink Moon”

Mabel

The bar probably had the capacity to fit twenty-five people.

It was the closest thing to an actual hole-in-the-wall that I’d ever seen.

Outside, it looked like a big shack.

Inside was no different.

There was no stone, brick or drywall to be seen. It was all rough wood, even the planks on the floor.

There were three taps for beer, one for cider, and a single shelf behind the bar displaying bottles of alcohol, the closest thing they had to top shelf being Jack Daniels Old No. 7.

Providing heat on this chilly night were a small, cast-iron fireplace in a back corner, walls that kept the wind out (just barely) and bodies.

There were four bar stools in front of the short bar, an entry space that was big enough to allow a few people to stand, four tables with four chairs each (yes, all wood), two-by-twos along the walls with an aisle between, which led up to a miniscule stage mostly taken up with two humungous speakers that were absolutely not needed in this small space.

There was a threadbare rug covering the tiny stage, so big it dipped off the sides, along with a stool.

On which, currently, a man was sitting with his guitar perched on his knee, singing into a microphone.

As far as I could tell, every slow, mellow, bittersweet song he sang was original.

Further to that, he had a silken, smooth baritone voice, and long, graceful musician’s fingers on strong, veined man’s hands.

If you had no imagination and a limited vocabulary, you’d call him blond.

But the rich complexity of his thick, overlong hair, to me, didn’t know whether to be blond, brown or auburn, could not be described by one simple word.

Nor could anything about him.

Well, I guessed one thing could.

He was tall. I could tell that even if I hadn’t seen him standing, considering how long his broad torso was even bent over that guitar, and the length of his meaty thighs and shins.

And he was muscular.

But it wasn’t lean muscle. Nor was it bulky. However, you couldn’t miss the man packed some power.

He had some russet-brown scruff on his cheeks, jaw and chin. It was full, not patchy, but it also wasn’t a beard.

He had a chiseled jaw, sun lines radiating from his dark-brown eyes, and high cheekbones.

He was beautiful.

Simply beautiful.

Robert Redford as Jeremiah Johnson beautiful (obviously without the true blond hair and bushy beard).

And perhaps part of that was why the house was packed, and not just that they came to listen to the moody, broody, sublime music he was playing.

Not that it could get too packed out here in the middle of nowhere, but it was standing room only.

And I knew the hulking lumberjack of a bartender didn’t tend to this many people every night.

Truth, this place seemed like it existed just to be a local gathering hole for those of us who lived up in the mountains on the west side of Misted Pines—a good twenty-minute haul just to get groceries and seriously sparsely populated.

But no one would want to drive that drive into town to have a few drinks and commune.

Though that hulking lumberjack wanted his neighbors safe and sound, and he didn’t make any bones about it. I knew this because there was a sign on the shelf with the liquor that said, I’LL SERVE YOU AS MUCH AS YOU WANT, BUT I’LL ALSO TAKE YOUR FUCKING KEYS.

One could just say, it was without a doubt that hulking lumberjack could take anyone’s keys.

And if that wasn’t enough, he wasn’t stingy with the bowls of pretzels and popcorn, seeing as he scooped one out for every drink he served.

Not many people were communing that night, not verbally.

No one uttered a sound.

We were together, though.

Woven together by soft, gentle, sad songs of hope lost, promises broken and love always remaining just out of reach.

I could not say I wasn’t mesmerized by how handsome the singer was. The build of his body. The easy way he wore his faded olive-green button-down and jeans, the scuffs on his unpretentious, round-toed brown boots.

I absolutely was.

I could also not say I wasn’t fascinated by his deft fingers strumming or curling to press out the chords and how natural that came to him, like that guitar was an extension of his body.

I absolutely was that too.

Mostly, it was the music.

And the way his eyes often landed on me sitting at a table with three people I didn’t know, not drinking my beer nor eating from any of the bowls of pretzels and popcorn on the table, my eyes glued to him as he told his story.

His story was my story.

It was my story.

Through the skin and flesh, bone and marrow, straight to my soul…

My story.

I knew it wasn’t exactly the same. It couldn’t be.

But he got me.

He got me.

I had good friends. People I loved.

And no one on this planet got me.

But that man got me.

All good things had to come to an end, but fortunately for me that night, that end wouldn’t be the same as it was for everyone else at The Link just off County Road 10.

I knew it was over for the others when he sang Nick Drake’s “Pink Moon,” the only cover he’d done all night, because the vibe shifted.

They knew that was his finale.

And when he was done, twisting to lay his guitar in the case lying open in the only space still available on that stage floor, he didn’t even dip his chin to the raucous applause, whistles and hoots of the people in that bar.

He just clipped his guitar into its case, grabbed the handle and got up, proving I was right, he was tall—again, not super tall, but not short by a long shot—I’d place him at about six two. Then he stepped off the stage.

Immediately, a man and woman started talking to him. I sipped at my second beer, which wasn’t even half consumed, waiting and hoping.

It was stupid to wait.

It was stupid to hope.

Every damned thing that happened to me in thirty-one years of my life had taught me that.

There might only have been about twenty-five adoring fans, but he talked to them, still carrying his guitar, and I knew that was his unspoken indication he wasn’t going to grab a whisky, sit down and gab awhile. He was going to allow them to say their words, then he was going to go home.

Five minutes slipped to ten, then to fifteen, and he didn’t look at me in any of that time.

Oh yes.

It was stupid to wait.

It was insane to hope.

I got up, shrugged on my denim jacket and wrapped my scarf around my neck.

I slung my crossbody over my head, took a last sip of beer and went out the door.

I was unlocking my faded red old Ford pickup when I heard, “You followin’ me, or am I followin’ you?”

I turned at the deep, silken voice and saw what I considered in my perhaps not-so-amateur opinion was one of the best singer-songwriters of my generation standing there carrying his guitar case.

“You’re following me,” I told him.

He jerked up his chin and headed to a big, dark-blue (lumberjack bartender didn’t skimp on outdoor lights either), one-ton GMC truck.

I got in, reversed out, and headed to the exit to County Road 10.

He followed me.

I lay naked, curled up on my side, staring at the man bathed in moonlight beside me.

He was on his back.

He was naked too.

The sheets were down to his waist.

He had the same russet-brown hair covering his evenly moving chest, one leg cocked, the knee and most of his thigh sticking out from under the covers. He had one hand resting on his flat, ridged stomach, the other arm was on the bed between us.

He snored.

And damn the man, even his snores were melodic, quiet, low, rhythmic. They were the kind of noise that would lull you to sleep, not keep you awake.

How I wasn’t asleep was a mystery.

He’d worn me out.

He was the best lover I’d ever had. The best lover perhaps in history.

Among other activities, we’d had sex three times.

He knew every inch of my body.

He was deliciously controlling in bed, so alas, I could not say he allowed me to learn every inch of his, but the (many, many) inches he’d given me, I’d enjoyed thoroughly.

I couldn’t move. After five orgasms, my body was somnolent from the tips of my toes to the ends of my hair.

But I couldn’t stop looking at him.

And this couldn’t happen.

The whole point of me being in this loft cabin in the middle of nowhere in Fret County, Washington State and not back home in Florida was to stay very, very far away from this kind of entanglement.

Of course, a girl had needs.

However, this was not the guy you used to scratch your itch.

This was the kind of guy that the first concepts from the beginning of time were the hotbed of what hopes and dreams were made of.

Dang it, I’d only been here seven months, and here I was, messing up my life again.

My hand actually ached from forcing myself not to reach out and rest it on his chest, feel that springy hair, the warmth of his skin, his heart beating.

My body yearned to inch forward and press itself to his side, wrap him in my arms, so he might turn and wrap me in his, tangling us up in the moonlight.

I was so screwed.

But I didn’t stop watching him, perhaps it was only long minutes, it felt like hours, before my eyes drifted shut, and I lost him.

In more ways than one.

I opened my eyes, delightfully tender, deliciously relaxed, totally refreshed, and I stretched my back.

The sun was shining through the window at the head of my bed.

And the pillow beside mine was empty.

No.

Strike that.

It wasn’t.

There was a wide, yellow Post-it note resting on the pillow.

I held the covers to my chest and reached out to the note, stupid, stupid, stupidly hoping it was his number and an urge to call him. Or an invitation to dinner. Or to meet him at The Link that night for a drink.

Mostly, hoping it was signed because he never told me his name.

It was not.

There was one word on that note, scrawled in black ink.

And that word was…

Thanks.

WANT MORE? Click HERE to read Chapter 2!

About Kristen Ashley:

Kristen Ashley is the New York Times bestselling author of over eighty romance novels. She’s a hybrid author, publishing titles both independently and traditionally, her books have been translated in fourteen languages and she’s sold millions of books.

Kristen, born in Gary and raised in Brownsburg, Indiana and was a fourth-generation graduate of Purdue University. Since, she has lived in Denver, the West Country of England, and she now resides in Phoenix. She worked as a charity executive for eighteen years prior to beginning her independent publishing career. She now writes full-time.

Although romance is her genre, the prevailing themes running through all of Kristen’s novels are friendship, family and a strong sisterhood. To this end, and as a way to thank her readers for their support, Kristen has created the Rock Chick Nation, a series of programs that are designed to give back to her readers and promote a strong female community. You can learn more about Kristen and the Rock Chick Nation on her website.

Connect with Kristen:

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BE THE FULL PROBLEM, an all-new small town romantic suspense novel from Wall Street Journal and USA Today Bestselling Author, Lani Lynn Vale, is available now!

I knew he was hell, yet I chose to burn with him anyway…

I blame getting pregnant on my sister getting mauled by a bear.

If she hadn’t been attacked that day, I wouldn’t have come home to check on her. I wouldn’t have run into Boone Windsor at that bar. I wouldn’t have gone home with him, ready to drown my sorrows in a different, more satisfying way.

I wouldn’t have given him that second chance.

Not after he’d so badly burned the first chance.

I would’ve gone back to work half the country away, and I would’ve kept my head in the sand where Boone was involved.

But my sister did get attacked. I did give Boone a second chance.

And I almost died because of it.

After my memories are lost in an accident that almost takes both of our lives, Boone makes me fall in love with him all over again.

And since I didn’t know all the hell that awaited me, I didn’t guard my heart.

I fell, and fell, and fell until there was nowhere else to go but down.

Then, when those memories come back and I’m faced with the consequences of my actions, I didn’t falter.

I knew he was hell, yet I chose to burn with him anyway.

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About Lani Lynn Vale:

Lani Lynn Vale is an American author of humorous romantic suspense novels. Born in the Great State of Texas, she has lived the majority of her adult life in East Texas where most of her novels are based. She’s married to her high school sweetheart whom her readers refer to as “LLV’s Bearded Half.” She published her first novel, Boomtown, in the summer of 2013 after the birth of her third child. She’s gone on to publish over 100 novels, with most of them going on to become USA Today Bestsellers.

Connect with Lani:

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A SIMPLE HELLO, a sweet and sexy new friends-to-lovers, small town romance from USA Today Bestselling Author, Lacey Black, is available now!

My easiest hello might be my hardest goodbye…

Cade

When it comes to women, keeping things casual is my forte. What can I say, I like to live life to its fullest. Then I spot the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen at The Tipsy Lizard, and I know I need to get to know her.

Like a moth to a flame, I’m drawn. The only issue is, she’s dating someone else.

So, the only choice I have is to give Oaklee my number and tell her to use it when she’s single.

To my surprise, that phone call came sooner than I expected. She’s just getting out of a relationship and isn’t looking for anything serious, which is right up my alley. Spending time with her isn’t a hardship, and sending little gifts to her office to say hello is a lot more fun than I would have imagined.

The problem is, I’m not sure I can keep her safely in the friend zone much longer.

Oaklee

Relocating to a small town was exactly what I needed. However, from the moment I arrived in Cooper Town, everything seemed to snowball. The jerk I was dating decided to cheat, leaving me in a new place with a new job and a support system of one to lean on.

Meeting Cade at a bar turned out to be more than just a casual happenstance.

Being around him is easy. He’s gorgeous, charismatic, fun, and always sends me little things to let me know he’s thinking of me. When I have to start working beside my ex, Cade kicks it into overdrive, showing me exactly how easy it could be to fall for a guy like him. Too bad he’s not looking for forever. Cade only wants right now.

Suddenly, my easiest hello might be my hardest goodbye.

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“A low drama, high heat, heart-filled, makes-you-smile kind of romance…” ~Danielle, Red Cheeks Reads

Check out Danielle’s 5 SMOOCHES review!

About Lacey Black:

USA Today Bestselling Author Lacey Black is a Midwestern girl with a passion for reading, writing, and shopping. She carries her e-reader with her everywhere she goes so she never misses an opportunity to read a few pages. Always looking for a happily ever after, Lacey is passionate about contemporary romance novels and enjoys it further when you mix in a little suspense. She resides in a small town in Illinois with her husband, two children, and three rowdy chickens.

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CROOKED, a new bodyguard/mafia daughter forbidden romance from New York Times Bestselling Authors, Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward, is available now!

Scroll down for an excerpt!

Getting involved with him was reckless…

A new, sexy standalone novel from New York Times Bestsellers, Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward…

The last thing I needed was a live-in bodyguard. And I definitely didn’t want him. Six foot two, with broad shoulders that were impossible to ignore and a talent for getting in my way, Wes Callahan was a walking bad decision.

But when you’re the daughter of a notorious mob boss, apparently your opinions stop mattering the moment your father ignites another war. I’d spent my entire life trying to escape that crooked world—new name, new city, newfound freedom. At least until I was suddenly shacked up with my new bodyguard.

Wes knew exactly how to push my buttons. He was also infuriatingly protective. And smart. And funny. And thoughtful when he thought I wasn’t paying attention.  Little by little, the walls I’d built started to crack, and falling for the bodyguard became the most dangerous thing I’ve ever done. Because if my father found out, Wes wouldn’t just lose his job. He’d lose his life.

Getting involved with him was reckless, yet I couldn’t find a way to stop it, no matter how hard I tried.  But while I was busy losing my heart, the man who took it was hiding a secret.

And it turned out, the most dangerous man in my life wasn’t my father after all—it was the one who threatened to break my heart.

ORDER YOUR COPY TODAY OR READ FOR FREE IN KINDLE UNLIMITED!

Amazon US  |  Amazon AU  |  Amazon CA  |  Amazon UK  |  Paperback  |  Alternate Cover Paperback  |  Audio

Narrated in duet by Andi Arndt & Aiden Snow

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“…a thrilling and seductive romance…” ~Danielle, Red Cheeks Reads

Check out Danielle’s 5 SMOOCHES review!

EXCERPT:

Copyright © 2025 by Penelope Ward and Vi Keeland

“Sorry for making up that story,” he said. “But I didn’t know what else to tell him. Wasn’t like I could admit the real reason I’m here looking out for you.”

I crossed my arms. “Maybe you should’ve, and he could’ve carted you away, so I don’t have to deal with any of this.”

“Now, now. Is that how you talk to your loving boyfriend?” He winked.

“Please don’t repeat that.” Especially in that annoyingly seductive voice.

“Well, you don’t think at some point we’re gonna have to pretend to be something to each other? People are going to wonder who the hell I am. How else are you going to explain me, if I’m not your boyfriend?”

“I’m hoping not to have to explain you at all because I’m counting on this arrangement ending soon.”

“Well, if you’d let me sleep inside like you should’ve, I wouldn’t have attracted the neighbor’s attention.”

“I will admit that making you sleep outside was a mistake, in hindsight.” I rubbed my pounding temples. “Do you want some coffee? I need to get a cup before my head explodes.”

He smiled wide. “I would love some.”

God, those dimples.

Had they been there yesterday?

Of course they had.

Again, I needed coffee.

After I filled two mugs, I handed him one. “As you just saw, my neighbor is very nosy. You need to keep a low profile. That means no hanging around outside my house unless absolutely necessary. She’ll try to talk to you.”

“I’ll be fine if she does. I’m a pretty good liar.”

“How commendable.”

He shrugged. “I don’t make a habit of it. But in this business, you have to be able to stretch the truth with a straight face.”

Putting my coffee down, I crossed my arms. “We have to set some ground rules.”

Wes grinned from behind his mug. “Okay…”

He’d better be taking this seriously. I took another long sip of coffee. “One, you have to sleep on the couch. I only have one bedroom. So…”

“All right. I was expecting that. No big deal. I’ve slept on worse things.”

“Not even gonna ask.” I sighed. “Also, no walking around without your clothes on.”

Wes raised a brow and laughed. “Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know. You seem like the type who might be comfortable enough in your skin to want to flaunt it or something. Just letting you know I won’t appreciate that.”

“No naked ass. Got it.” He nodded. “What else?”

“No eating anything in my refrigerator that belongs to me. I just went to Erewhon to stock up. Practically spent a week’s salary.” I opened the fridge and began moving my items to the right, leaving spots on the left of the top two shelves empty. “You can keep your stuff on this side.”

“How generous of you…” He grinned.

I tilted my head. “Are you mocking me?”

“No.” He pursed his lips, probably to keep from laughing.

I sighed. Maybe I did need to calm down. This situation was making me more high-strung than usual.

After a moment, he asked, “Are you done?”

“I’ll let you know if I think of anything else.”

“Look…” he said. “I don’t wanna be here any more than you want me here. So let’s just try to make the best of it.”

“We don’t need to make the best of it. We need to stay out of each other’s way and not make each other insane.” I downed the last of my cup of joe.

Wes’s expression dampened. Had I hurt his feelings? This situation stressed me out and made me less than pleasant. My father’s antics brought out the worst in me. I felt like I needed a time out.

On that note, I took my own advice and ventured back to my room to have my second cup of coffee in peace.

When I walked back out into the living room about fifteen minutes later, my jaw dropped. It was like I’d walked onto the set of Love Island. Wes was sitting on the couch with his feet up on the ottoman—shirtless, with every beautiful contour of his bronzed chest on full display.

What. The. Heck. I gulped. “What are you doing?”

He stood, looking confused. “What do you mean? I’m just sitting here.”

“You’ve only been here a matter of minutes, and you’ve already broken a rule.” I scoffed. “The most important one, I might add.”

He drew in his brows. “What rule?”

I glared. “Naked?”

He looked down at his chest. “I’m not naked.”

“You took your shirt off.”

“That’s shirtless. Not naked. You say naked, and I think…junk hanging out. This is not naked.”

I shook my head. “You need to wear a shirt in this house.”

He stalked toward me. “It’s hot as Hades in here. Does your air conditioner even work?”

“I don’t like it too cold. I freeze easily.”

“I guess that’s what happens to people who are already cold enough.”

As he stood there with his hands on his hips, I did feel oddly warm, actually. And it had nothing to do with the air-conditioner setting.

He smirked. A chill ran down my spine.

F*ck. Those dimples.

I’m going to kill my father for hiring this guy.

CROOKED, a new bodyguard/mafia daughter forbidden romance from New York Times Bestselling Authors, Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward, is available now!

Getting involved with him was reckless…

A new, sexy standalone novel from New York Times Bestsellers, Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward…

The last thing I needed was a live-in bodyguard. And I definitely didn’t want him. Six foot two, with broad shoulders that were impossible to ignore and a talent for getting in my way, Wes Callahan was a walking bad decision.

But when you’re the daughter of a notorious mob boss, apparently your opinions stop mattering the moment your father ignites another war. I’d spent my entire life trying to escape that crooked world—new name, new city, newfound freedom. At least until I was suddenly shacked up with my new bodyguard.

Wes knew exactly how to push my buttons. He was also infuriatingly protective. And smart. And funny. And thoughtful when he thought I wasn’t paying attention.  Little by little, the walls I’d built started to crack, and falling for the bodyguard became the most dangerous thing I’ve ever done. Because if my father found out, Wes wouldn’t just lose his job. He’d lose his life.

Getting involved with him was reckless, yet I couldn’t find a way to stop it, no matter how hard I tried.  But while I was busy losing my heart, the man who took it was hiding a secret.

And it turned out, the most dangerous man in my life wasn’t my father after all—it was the one who threatened to break my heart.

ORDER YOUR COPY TODAY OR READ FOR FREE IN KINDLE UNLIMITED!

Amazon US  |  Amazon AU  |  Amazon CA  |  Amazon UK  |  Paperback  |  Alternate Cover Paperback  |  Audio

Narrated in duet by Andi Arndt & Aiden Snow

Add to Goodreads  |  Add to BookBub

CROOKED, a forbidden new bodyguard/mafia daughter romance from New York Times Bestselling Authors, Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward, is coming March 29th!

Scroll down for a sneak peek!

Getting involved with him was reckless…

A new, sexy standalone novel from New York Times Bestsellers, Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward…

The last thing I needed was a live-in bodyguard. And I definitely didn’t want him. Six foot two, with broad shoulders that were impossible to ignore and a talent for getting in my way, Wes Callahan was a walking bad decision.

But when you’re the daughter of a notorious mob boss, apparently your opinions stop mattering the moment your father ignites another war. I’d spent my entire life trying to escape that crooked world—new name, new city, newfound freedom. At least until I was suddenly shacked up with my new bodyguard.

Wes knew exactly how to push my buttons. He was also infuriatingly protective. And smart. And funny. And thoughtful when he thought I wasn’t paying attention.  Little by little, the walls I’d built started to crack, and falling for the bodyguard became the most dangerous thing I’ve ever done. Because if my father found out, Wes wouldn’t just lose his job. He’d lose his life.

Getting involved with him was reckless, yet I couldn’t find a way to stop it, no matter how hard I tried.  But while I was busy losing my heart, the man who took it was hiding a secret.

And it turned out, the most dangerous man in my life wasn’t my father after all—it was the one who threatened to break my heart.

PRE-ORDER YOUR COPY TODAY OR READ FOR FREE IN KINDLE UNLIMITED!

Amazon US  |  Amazon AU  |  Amazon CA  |  Amazon UK  |  Alternate Cover Paperback  |  Audio

Add to Goodreads  |  Add to BookBub

EXCERPT:

Copyright © 2025 by Penelope Ward and Vi Keeland

“Sorry for making up that story,” he said. “But I didn’t know what else to tell him. Wasn’t like I could admit the real reason I’m here looking out for you.”

I crossed my arms. “Maybe you should’ve, and he could’ve carted you away, so I don’t have to deal with any of this.”

“Now, now. Is that how you talk to your loving boyfriend?” He winked.

“Please don’t repeat that.” Especially in that annoyingly seductive voice.

“Well, you don’t think at some point we’re gonna have to pretend to be something to each other? People are going to wonder who the hell I am. How else are you going to explain me, if I’m not your boyfriend?”

“I’m hoping not to have to explain you at all because I’m counting on this arrangement ending soon.”

“Well, if you’d let me sleep inside like you should’ve, I wouldn’t have attracted the neighbor’s attention.”

“I will admit that making you sleep outside was a mistake, in hindsight.” I rubbed my pounding temples. “Do you want some coffee? I need to get a cup before my head explodes.”

He smiled wide. “I would love some.”

God, those dimples.

Had they been there yesterday?

Of course they had.

Again, I needed coffee.

After I filled two mugs, I handed him one. “As you just saw, my neighbor is very nosy. You need to keep a low profile. That means no hanging around outside my house unless absolutely necessary. She’ll try to talk to you.”

“I’ll be fine if she does. I’m a pretty good liar.”

“How commendable.”

He shrugged. “I don’t make a habit of it. But in this business, you have to be able to stretch the truth with a straight face.”

Putting my coffee down, I crossed my arms. “We have to set some ground rules.”

Wes grinned from behind his mug. “Okay…”

He’d better be taking this seriously. I took another long sip of coffee. “One, you have to sleep on the couch. I only have one bedroom. So…”

“All right. I was expecting that. No big deal. I’ve slept on worse things.”

“Not even gonna ask.” I sighed. “Also, no walking around without your clothes on.”

Wes raised a brow and laughed. “Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know. You seem like the type who might be comfortable enough in your skin to want to flaunt it or something. Just letting you know I won’t appreciate that.”

“No naked ass. Got it.” He nodded. “What else?”

“No eating anything in my refrigerator that belongs to me. I just went to Erewhon to stock up. Practically spent a week’s salary.” I opened the fridge and began moving my items to the right, leaving spots on the left of the top two shelves empty. “You can keep your stuff on this side.”

“How generous of you…” He grinned.

I tilted my head. “Are you mocking me?”

“No.” He pursed his lips, probably to keep from laughing.

I sighed. Maybe I did need to calm down. This situation was making me more high-strung than usual.

After a moment, he asked, “Are you done?”

“I’ll let you know if I think of anything else.”

“Look…” he said. “I don’t wanna be here any more than you want me here. So let’s just try to make the best of it.”

“We don’t need to make the best of it. We need to stay out of each other’s way and not make each other insane.” I downed the last of my cup of joe.

Wes’s expression dampened. Had I hurt his feelings? This situation stressed me out and made me less than pleasant. My father’s antics brought out the worst in me. I felt like I needed a time out.

On that note, I took my own advice and ventured back to my room to have my second cup of coffee in peace.

When I walked back out into the living room about fifteen minutes later, my jaw dropped. It was like I’d walked onto the set of Love Island. Wes was sitting on the couch with his feet up on the ottoman—shirtless, with every beautiful contour of his bronzed chest on full display.

What. The. Heck. I gulped. “What are you doing?”

He stood, looking confused. “What do you mean? I’m just sitting here.”

“You’ve only been here a matter of minutes, and you’ve already broken a rule.” I scoffed. “The most important one, I might add.”

He drew in his brows. “What rule?”

I glared. “Naked?”

He looked down at his chest. “I’m not naked.”

“You took your shirt off.”

“That’s shirtless. Not naked. You say naked, and I think…junk hanging out. This is not naked.”

I shook my head. “You need to wear a shirt in this house.”

He stalked toward me. “It’s hot as Hades in here. Does your air conditioner even work?”

“I don’t like it too cold. I freeze easily.”

“I guess that’s what happens to people who are already cold enough.”

As he stood there with his hands on his hips, I did feel oddly warm, actually. And it had nothing to do with the air-conditioner setting.

He smirked. A chill ran down my spine.

F*ck. Those dimples.

I’m going to kill my father for hiring this guy.