With a big anniversary party in the works for his ex-wife’s parents, Ryan has just one weekend to play Abby’s husband . . . and win back the woman of his dreams.

Ryan McKinley has tried to move on from his ex-wife, Abby. He’s sulked, he’s gotten angry, and ultimately he bought her dream house. Big mistake. Living alone in the massive two-story has only made him miss her more. When her parents call him out of the blue about their anniversary party in Summer Harbor, Maine, Ryan believes God has dropped a golden opportunity straight in his lap.

Abby McKinley never exactly told her parents about the divorce. A strained relationship with her dad has culminated in a distant relationship with her parents, but she’s finally succumbed to her mom’s pressure to make the drive for their 35th-anniversary party.

Then Ryan shows up on her doorstep, looking as handsome as ever. When he insists he’s going to Summer Harbor, with or without her, Abby knows she can’t say no. Her parents still think they’re married and now Ryan knows it too. It’s just a one-week road trip with the man who broke her heart. What could possibly go wrong?

CHAPTER 1

The antique ring had been sitting forlornly on Ryan McKinley's kitchen counter for five months. It was an ordinary tale of lost and found, but the customary happy ending stretched just out of his reach.

He left the room, more to escape the ring than anything, and stopped by the grandfather clock on his way to the stairs. He turned the key in the slot and wound the weight to the top, thinking of Abby again. It had been her job, winding the clock. Keeping the thing going was almost a compulsion with her.

Not with him. The hands of the clock had been poised precisely at twelve past seven for almost a week. He set the pendulum in motion and shut the antique door, twisting the key as the familiar ticking filled the big, empty house. He needed to go for his run. Stretch his legs and let the thumping of his feet on the pavement beat the thoughts of her out of his head.

He couldn't get his mind off her lately. The clock, the ring ... the house. He'd already called himself a million kinds of fool. Buying his ex-wife's dream house had been a mistake, just as PJ had warned.

A knock sounded at the door, and he sighed in relief at the distraction.

PJ's wide smile greeted him as he swung the door open. Speaking of his sister. "Is it a good time?"

His eyes fell to the covered dish in her hands. "It's always a good time for food."

PJ breezed past on her way to the kitchen. "It's not meat and potatoes, sorry. Cole doesn't like crepes, so you're my guinea pig."

"It's a chore, but somebody has to do it."

In the kitchen PJ lifted the lid, and the sweet smell of chocolate drifted his way. Since dinner had come in a Stouffer's box, Ryan's stomach growled in appreciation.

PJ had started the Wishing House Grille in Chapel Springs right after culinary school. It had come complete with a free house and the man of her dreams. His baby sister had always led a charmed life.

He grabbed two forks from the dishwasher and handed one to PJ.

She eyed it skeptically. "Clean?"

He gave her a sour look as he dug into the dessert. The warm confection practically melted on his tongue. "Mmmm. Not bad."

PJ took a dainty bite. "Just enough hazelnut, I think. Maybe a little more vanilla?"

"I give it a 9.5. The details are yours to figure out."

As they finished the crepes PJ caught him up on the family, which from her perspective consisted mostly of their siblings' love lives. The love bug had bitten hard in the McKinley tribe the last few years. First Madison, then Jade, and now PJ. Two of them were married, with PJ not far behind, he suspected. And he, the oldest, still batching it. Or rather, batching it again.

When they'd had their fill of crepes, they placed their forks in the farm sink.

"I better run. Need to get to Hanover before the store closes."

PJ grabbed her purse while Ryan put the lid on the leftovers.

"Oooh, pretty." She extended her arm, waggling her fingers.

His gaze fell to PJ's finger, where Abby's ring lay glistening.

"Who's this beauty for?" she asked. "Are you holding out on me?"

Ryan shoved the Tupperware lid down hard, making it click with a loud snap. "Take it off."

"Geez, okay." She pulled the ring, grimacing as it stuck there through a few more twists and pulls.

"Seriously?" he said.

"Don't worry, I'll get it." She turned on the water and soaped up her hand. "It looks old."

"It is old. It was Abby's grandma's."

PJ gave another tug, and the ring came off. She rinsed it, along with her hands.

Ryan eyed the drain. "Careful!"

"I'm not an idiot."

When she finished, Ryan snatched the ring from her.

"What are you doing with it?" she asked.

He put it back by his cell charger. "I found it when I moved."

Abby had been so distraught the week she'd noticed it missing.

They'd turned the house on Orchard upside down looking for it. She'd never been close to her parents, but her grandmother had meant everything to her. Her passing had been hard on Abby.

It was the closest she'd come to crying in the years Ryan had known her.

"Are you going to give it back?"

"I don't know."

"You have to. It was her grandmother's. Just stick it in the mail. I think I can get her address if you need it."

"I can't stick an heirloom in the mail."

"So you're going to take it to her?"

"I don't know, PJ. Why do you think it's been sitting there for five months?"

"Soor-ry." PJ hitched her purse on her shoulder and left the kitchen.

Ryan followed, rubbing his forehead with his index finger.

The dang ring had been stressing him out. He'd been praying about it, but he couldn't seem to find any peace. He really should just stick it in the mail and forget about it. One less piece of Abby in his life.

At the door he gave PJ an apologetic smile. "Sorry I snapped."

"It's okay. Let me know if you need the address—or if you just need to talk."

"I will."

The phone rang, and PJ looked over his shoulder. "You kept your landline?"

He shrugged.

"Better get it then."

They said good-bye, and he crossed the living room. He knew the landline was redundant, a needless cost. But it was the only way Abby would know to reach him if she wanted to.

Stupid, McKinley.

But then he seemed to have a heavy dose of stupid when it came to Abby.

He grabbed the phone from the cradle, but he didn't recognize the number on the screen. "Hello?"

The pause nearly prompted a repeat.

"Ryan? Hello, de-ah. It's Lillian. I didn't expect to catch you home."

The familiar Maine accent of Abby's mom stunned him. Why was she calling? "Lillian. What a surprise."

A terrible feeling swelled inside. What if something had happened to Abby? Before he could ask, she spoke again.

"How are you? We haven't spoken in so long."

"I'm fine. You know Chapel Springs. Nothing much changes around here. How are you and Bud?"

He pressed his finger between his brows. He'd hardly spoken to Lillian when he and Abby had been married. How bizarre that she'd call now, over three years after their divorce.

"Oh, we're just fine. You know, getting ready for the party. I don't suppose Abby's there."

He frowned. "Ah, no ..."

"I didn't think so. But I've been trying to reach her on her cell, and you know Abby. She hardly answers the thing. Maybe it's best that I reached you anyway."

This was all too weird. Surely the woman wasn't suffering from dementia. She had to be still in her fifties.

"Well, Abby told me you can't come to the anniversary party, of course, but I was so hoping you'd change your mind. Work will always be there, and it's been years since the two of you visited."

His brain stalled. His mouth worked.

"I don't like the idea of Abby driving all that way alone." She lowered her voice. "And you know her relationship with her dad is ... difficult. I'd feel so much better if she had your support."

"My support ..."

"I know we haven't been close, but I'd really like to change that. I miss my only child. And maybe the time away would be good for you both. A little vacation."

He scratched his head. "I'm, ah ... I'm a little confused, Lillian."

He heard a muffled conversation, as if she'd covered the mouthpiece. A moment later she was back.

"Bud wants to talk to you, de-ah. Here he is."

"So I hear you can't take a few days away from your busy schedule to celebrate our anniversary."

Ryan had forgotten how Bud could deliver a teasing remark with just enough raw edge to make you squirm.

"Congratulations, Bud. Sounds like you have a nice party planned."

"Well, it would be if I could get my son-in-law to drive our daughter over. Lillian has her heart set on it."

Son-in-law? Why did they both—it was as if—he knew Abby wasn't close to them. Was it possible she hadn't told them about the divorce? None of this made sense.

"Cat got your tongue, son?"

"No, sir. When was Abby planning to arrive? I, ah, don't have the schedule handy."

Bud repeated the question to Lillian while Ryan's mind turned.

Maybe this was the opportunity he'd prayed for. His chance to see Abby again. To return the ring.

Yeah, McKinley. That's all you really want.

"Day before the party." Bud was back on the line. "Next week, the twenty-fourth. Now are you gonna bring her home or what?" Lillian scolded him in the background, then she was back on.

"We would so love to have you both."

Next week. His mind spun. His coaching staff could get along without him for a few days. The thought of seeing Abby again made his heart pound in his chest. Dried up his throat. Made some part of him he hadn't realized was dead and buried come alive again.

He pictured her in his mind's eye. Not the way she'd looked when he'd met her, when he'd courted her. But the way she'd looked after. When she'd come to love him. The planes of her face softened, her green eyes no longer wary and distant, but open. Hopeful. Her red curls wild around her creamy-skinned face, her cute freckles peeking out on her nose.

"Ryan, are you there?"

"Yeah." everything was coming up Abby lately. Maybe God was trying to tell him something. He felt that urging in his spirit.

Is that You, God? Is this what You want?

His heart settled as peace washed over him. everything seemed to be pointing the same direction. The ring, the phone call ...

Maybe he was just crazy, but he was going to do it.

"All right," he said, squeezing the phone tight. "I'll be there."

CHAPTER 2

It was past eight, the sun just sinking below the Indianapolis skyline, when Abby McKinley pushed through the heavy glass doors of Wainwright Investigative Services. She was more tired than she wanted to admit, and it was only Monday.

As she entered the office the air-conditioning hit her, a relief after sitting in her hot car with nothing but a stiff, hot breeze and her camera for company.

Her boss sat behind his desk, frowning at his computer screen, his salt-and-pepper hair ruffled as if he'd just run his fingers through it.

She walked straight to Frank's cluttered desk and dropped the Owens file next to an empty bag of Doritos.

"Already?" he asked.

She shrugged, taking a seat at her own desk and opening her e-mail while Frank flipped through the file. "Nice pics. So it wasn't the pool boy?"

"Too obvious. It was an old boyfriend. Reunited on Facebook and hooked up two months ago."

"You're a genius."

It wasn't that hard. A little surveillance, a little garbology, a little IT on the home computer. People left a trail whether they wanted to or not.

"I have a VIP case for you," he said. "Right up your alley.

Wife suspects affair. High-profile, gated community. I need my best girl on it."

"I'm your only girl. What's the TAT?"

"Next weekend. I know that's quick but—What?"

Abby was shaking her head. Normally she could turn a case so quickly, but ... "I'm leaving on Wednesday, remember? Road trip."

"Take a plane. I'll pay for it. Heck, I'll fly you first-class for what this lady's paying."

It wasn't the money that stopped her from flying. And she hated saying no when she was so close to that promotion. Lewis was going to ride this for all it was worth. But she'd had this trip on the schedule for weeks, and she didn't want to disappoint her mom.

"Sorry, but I can't. You'll have to put Lewis on it."

It really blew, handing the case over to her competition. She closed her e-mails and stood to leave.

Frank grimaced, running his hand over his thick mustache. She could've sworn Dorito crumbs went flying. "Abby, I need you on this one."

She grabbed her purse off the floor. "except I won't be here."

"Flight plus a bonus. My final offer."

"Believe me, I wish I could, Frank."

"You really want Lewis to take this?" The subtext was clear. How badly do you want the agency in St. Paul?

"I can't get out of this. I'm sorry." She opened the door. "See you in the morning, Frank."

"You're killing me, kid," he called just before the door swung shut behind her.

The drive home was quick and painless. She pulled into her assigned carport and walked up her sidewalk. Boo's face peeked out the curtains, her tiny paws on the low windowsill, the pink bow crooked on top of her head. Inside the building Abby drew in the savory smells of oregano and garlic. Someone was having a nice supper.

She collected her mail, then unlocked her door. The Yorkie danced around her feet. "Hey, little Boo. Mommy's home." Abby picked up the dog and accepted the kisses from her squirmy friend, smiling at her exuberance. "Sorry I'm late, little girl. Let's go potty."

Abby kissed the dog between her large pointy ears, then leashed her and took her outside. "Go potty, Boo."

Feeling guilty, she walked the dog around the apartment complex until the daylight was gone, then went back inside, thinking about the insurance fraud case she almost had wrapped up. As she heated up a slice of yesterday's pizza, her mind drifted to the upcoming weekend, the party, her parents.

Her dad.

She'd dug her wedding set from her jewelry box last night. She hadn't looked at the rings since the day she took them off, and seeing them had dredged up all the feelings. How gutted and raw and ruined she'd felt that day. It had taken so long to stop hurting. even now the thought of Ryan opened a hollow spot deep in her chest.

Stop it, Abby.

She didn't know what was wrong with her lately. Thoughts of Ryan were so close to the surface. This weekend was going to be even worse, with everyone asking about him. With those rings encircling her finger again. Bad enough she'd had to keep the last name.

You wouldn't have had to if you'd told them the truth.

She'd tried. She really had. But imagining her dad's reaction had always stopped her. He'd expected the marriage to fail. Had expected her to fail. She couldn't stand the thought of proving him right.

Besides, it wasn't as if she and her parents even had a real relationship. A Christmas card, a voicemail a few times a year. Her mom had put him on the phone when she'd called to talk Abby into coming. He'd harassed her about Ryan, questioning her, that suspicious tone in his voice.

If there could be anything worse than admitting her divorce to her dad, it would be admitting she'd been lying about it for three years. Lying to her dad carried a heavy penalty.

He can't hurt you anymore, Abby.

She shouldn't have let them talk her into this weekend. Now Lewis was going to have a chance to shine. She was jeopardizing her shot at her own agency. But she couldn't cancel now. Her mom was counting on seeing her, and Lillian Gifford had suffered enough disappointment over the years.

It would be the first time Abby had gone home since college.

Summer Harbor, Maine, didn't hold the same nostalgic feelings for her that most people's hometowns did. She couldn't deny the beauty of the rugged coastline or the bustling wharf with its handful of charming shops. But most of her memories centered around her unstable household, which only evoked feelings of fear and uncertainty.

She shoved it all from her mind. She wouldn't think about any of it until she had to.

After eating dinner she settled on the sofa, catching a mystery that was just getting started. Boo curled in her lap, quietly snoring, her little body rising and falling with each breath.

Twenty minutes later she was about to give up on the show when a knock sounded at her door. Boo was upright in an instant, diving off the sofa and charging toward the door with her sharp little yaps.

Probably Mrs. McCauley from next door. The mail carrier was always mixing up their mail. Maybe Abby would invite her in for tea. She could use the company. The distraction. And the woman always seemed lonesome despite her husband and the teenaged granddaughter who'd come to live with them a year ago.

"Shhhh. It's okay, Boo."

The dog barely glanced at Abby, her brown eyes trained on the door, her yaps coming closer together.

Abby reached for the handle and pulled the door, a smile on her lips.

Her heart stuttered. Her breath filled her lungs and stuck there, unable to find release. Her smile fell away.

His face was as familiar as her own. She knew every curve.

every angle. every golden fleck in his chocolate brown eyes.

Three years had done nothing to erase these details.

"Hello, Abby," Ryan said. view abbreviated excerpt only...

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