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Chapter One
Hey, I can tell you're exhausted from your week in Vegas but what's up with you?" Amelia asked, sliding Izzy a searching glance from the driver's seat. "I thought you'd be bouncing off the walls with excitement."
Isabel Shipley—Izzy to her friends and family—lifted a hand to rub her upper chest and wondered if it was time to break down and take something for the anxiety plaguing her ever since waking up in her hotel room this morning on her last day in Las Vegas.
The rumpled bed had said a lot of things, but it was the running shower and suddenly pounding head that wouldn't allow her to put two and two together and come up with anything other than sheer panic. Especially when a glance at the bedside clock gave her barely an hour to get to the airport and through Vegas security for her flight back home to Carolina Cove, North Carolina.
Given her frantic state to get out while the gettin' was good, she'd scrambled into clothes she'd purposely left out because shealwaysran late and grabbed the suitcase she had haphazardly packed the day before on a break from the gallery. After a last horrified glance at the open bathroom door and the scrumptiousness she left behind, she’d made a run for the hills and hopefully the return of her sanity.
She didn'tdothings like this. Ever.
So why had she?
Adrenaline had given her just enough mindfulness to hail a taxi, but the TSA line was long and she'd had to freakingrunfor her gate, arriving mere seconds before the door to the plane shut behind her as the last one to board.
Head throbbing from the stress ice pick stabbing her brain, she'd curled up against the window, her mind racing with questions and embarrassment as memories of the previous night surfaced until she fell into a fitful doze that came from too much stress, not enough sleep, a physical soreness that brought a blush to her cheeks.
Hours after leaving the hotel room and Vegas behind, her mind still hadn't come up with any logical answers. Truthfully, she couldn't even blame the champagne she'd drunk.
She’d only had three glasses over a span of time, but her excitement and adrenaline had known no bounds. And what better way to celebrate the completion of her firstrealshowcase than with a tall, dark, and very gorgeous man?
He'd made her tingle. Like, seriously,tingle. She hadn't known such a thing was possible. Even more amazing, he'd seemed genuinely interested in her art and process, which wassucha turn-on itself.
He also knew her cousin Michael and had attended her showcase because of it—which made him safer than the average Joe.
"Izzy? Seriously, you're worrying me. What's up?" her best friend asked.
Izzy watched as Amelia ran a hand over her rapidly expanding belly in a soothing-mama gesture and swallowed hard. She had to snap out of it. If anyone should be freaking out, it was Amelia. She was the one with twins on the way.
Izzy nodded to herself.Suck it up, buttercup.What was done was done. She and Everett had flirted, sipped luscious champagne, played blackjack and…made a bet. Which was how she’d wound up listening to the shower spray in the next room.
Winner gets a kiss,he'd said.
Loser has to—"I-I...I'm fine. Just really,reallytired." Because while her challenge hadn’t been anything outrageous, ithadled to the aftermath.
"But your show was a success? You texted and said you'd scored some good commissions and would text me later to tell me details."
Thankful for the distraction, Izzy turned her attention to the passing scenery. "Yeah, sorry about that. I went to the bar for a drink and...talked to friends."
Friend,rather. That's where she'd met him again. The handsome not-so-stranger who'd wandered through the gallery around each of her paintings as though looking over a Monet or something equally amazing. Everett had introduced himself as a longtime friend of her cousin Michael's, said that he'd seen her name on the signs about the gallery show, and remembered Michael bragging about his talented artist cousin and the timing of her upcoming show.
They'd chatted briefly, her entire body humming with excitement because he was so…so fine.
But it wasn't until later when she'd met up with him in the bar that things had gone from casual conversation to major flirtation.
"I thought as much. You know, sometimes it really comes down to the people you know, which is why it's so important to get out there. So? Tell me. Who bought your work? Anyone famous?"
Izzy frowned. She'd stayed so busy in Las Vegas prepping for the show after the last-minute inclusion that she hadn't had time to miss home. But now that she was here?
The familiar sights and traffic signs pointing to Carolina Cove brought tears to her eyes and comfort to her soul.
Or maybe it was the relief that she could almost shut herself inside her apartment and pretend the last twelve hours hadn't happened?
Or relive them.
To be honest, it was a toss-up as to which she’d prefer.
How could a thirty-two-year-old woman get herself into such a pickle?
