Jake stopped off at his room at the lodge. He’d had a really productive talk with Phil and Veronica, and now had a contract. He was having an entertainment lawyer look it over, but he knew that unless there was something really hinky, he was going to be signing it . . . for another three seasons. He was also excited about Mystics relocating from Vancouver, and the direction they wanted to take his character.

It was just what he wanted: the show, the role. Settling down in the Pacific Northwest. He knew that he’d love it here. There was hiking. He could kayak in the sound; he could fish, something he’d enjoyed with the guys. He’d get to hang out with Simon and Miles even more now, solidifying their friendship.

Most of all, though, it gave him the chance to do what he knew he really, really wanted to do: win Hailey. Convince her that he wasn’t going to leave—that he was a guy that stayed. And that she was precisely what he wanted.

Don’t be a dick, but don’t back down.

His phone rang, and he glanced at it. Susie.

He’d emailed and messengered over a termination notice to his agent/manager. Jake wasn’t surprised at all that she was calling. He just wasn’t sure what he was going to say. He picked up the phone.

“Susie. The notice was clear. You are no longer my representation.”

“What happened, Jake?” Susie said, sounding unnerved. “You’re supposed to be in South America! I emailed you the plane reservations, along with PDFs of the contracts—you can DocuSign them. Was there some other problem? They’re filming this week. This is just what your career needs. You’ll be perfect for it, show them what you’re really made of.”

“I’m not going.”

“What the hell? What is all this?” Susie said, her voice shaking, sounding pissed and confused . . . and maybe, just maybe, a little bit guilty. “I gave Bernardo my word you’d be on a plane . . .”

“Your word?” Jake snapped. “What about your word to me? I told you what I wanted. I wanted to be on Mystics. It was all I wanted. And you told me that the producers refused to pick up my contract. That they didn’t like my character, and wanted to replace me!”

Susie sighed impatiently. “Sweetie, I say this with love: that show was all wrong for you. They didn’t appreciate you, and never would. They just wanted you to be a beefcake, a pretty face. They never quite knew what to do with your character, anyway,” she said, and her voice was so soothing, and supportive—God, she was a better actress than he’d realized. “I’m sorry, Jake, but you’ve just got to move on. You’re going to be a huge star, and you’re going to laugh off your days on a little network paranormal series.”

He remembered Hailey’s words. I’m a lousy actress, but I’m a hell of a liar.

“I talked to Phil and Veronica today,” Jake said, pulling Susie up short. “They told me that they’d offered more money . . . and you turned them down.”

“Hon, you know you’re supposed to let me do the talking,” she said, inanely, sounding defensive and angry and obviously regrouping. “It’s like good cop, bad cop. If the stars talk to producers too much, they come off as pushy. I asked for more money. I’m an agent, that’s what I do. You just let me do the talking.”

“Apparently I let you do the thinking, too,” Jake said. “That’s on me. But I’m not making that kind of stupid choice anymore.” He shut his eyes. “Damn it, Susie. I trusted you.”

She was quiet for a minute. “I only had your best interests in mind.”

“You’re fired,” he said, feeling more tired than angry. “You’ve got it in writing and electronically. We’re done.”

“Your father is going to be furious,” Susie said. Then, softly, “He put me up to it.”

Jake was about to end the call, but he caught her last statement. “Wait. What did you say?”

“Kurt never wanted you on that show,” Susie said, sounding miserable. “He didn’t want his son on some . . . some teeny-bopper crappy sci-fi show. His words, not mine. It was bad for your reputation, for your career.”

And by proxy, his, Jake thought. “Do you work for him, or for me?”

There was silence.

“For him,” Jake said, feeling stupid as he answered his own question. He rubbed at his temple. “Always. All the guidance, all your helpful advice . . . you were always doing what he told you to.”

“He wants what’s best for you,” Susie tried to argue weakly.

“No, he wants what’s best for his image. He wants to live through me,” Jake said. “And that’s over.”

“Jake, for whatever it’s worth . . . I’m really sorry.”

“Good-bye, Susie.” He clicked off, then dialed his father.

His father picked up the phone immediately. “Congratulations!”

“What are you congratulating me for?”

“The film, of course. I heard about the director—they’re saying he’s the next Scorsese. Wouldn’t mind working with him myself, down the line. The studio threw a lot of money at him, and they’re expecting big things.” His father sounded unbearably smug. “This is the sort of work that’ll break you out, kid. Not that little TV show.”

“Dad . . .”

“I mean, I know television is where it’s at, but they mean HBO, Showtime . . . that kind of thing. But basic cable? Really?” His father scoffed. “Trust me. You’ll get much better offers. And you can always do a sci-fi film. Look at Chris Pratt, right?”

“Kurt.”

His father stopped. “What did you call me?”

“I called you by your name,” Jake said. “Because I want you to listen to me. I appreciate that you’re trying to help me. But you don’t do that by pulling strings to get me on a film I don’t even want. You don’t do that by having my agent run my jobs past you, and then go against my advice and turn down stuff I tell her to negotiate.”

“Jesus.” His father growled. “Tell me. Tell me you are not fucking this deal up.”

“There is no deal.”

“You think I pulled strings? I pulled fucking cables, Jake,” his father said, in his trademark growl. “You are going to make me look really bad.”

“Do you honestly think I care?” Jake said, his own voice cutting. “Do you think that because you’re Kurt Windlass, movie star, I need to bow down and do whatever the hell you tell me to? Jump when you say dance? You’re my father, and barely that. You don’t own me.”

“Oh, really?” his father said. “I fucking made you! You really think you made it this far on your own? You think you’ll be able to go any further without me pushing you—I swear to God, shoving you—every inch of the way? And this is the thanks I get?”

“I fired Susie,” Jake said. “And I’m renewing my contract with Mystics. I’m staying here.”

His father started cursing viciously. “This is a goddamned mistake.”

“Yeah, well, it’s my mistake.”

“And when you realize what a big fucking mistake you’re making . . .” Kurt said menacingly, his voice sounding like a gravel truck.

“Don’t come crying to you?” Jake finished. “Is this the way I repay you? Dad, you’re just using your old lines. And they sound tired. I promise, I’ll never come to you for help. I’m never going to trust you with my career again. And yeah, that might mean I may never act again. And I’m actually okay with that.”

“You don’t have what it takes,” his father spat out.

“You didn’t have what it took to be a husband or father,” Jake said quietly. “I may not have the hustle to survive Hollywood and claw my way to the top, the way you have. But I have what I want here. And I’m going to hold on to what I value.”

His father was still spluttering when he hung up. Then he grabbed the keys to Simon’s car, and headed out the door. It only took ten minutes to get from the lodge to the bookstore normally, but he made it in closer to six.

He stepped in . . . and stopped immediately. Cressida was there, cleaning up a pile of knocked-over books.

“Hey . . . are you okay?” he said, and stopped. He pointed to her shirt, the floor. “Is that blood? Are you all right? What the hell happened?”

Her eyes were huge. “Um . . . I’m fine. There was kind of an incident, though.”

Suddenly, his chest clenched. “Hailey,” he said, the word like a bullet.

“She’s at the hospital,” she said. “On the plus side, your stalker is in jail—the right one, this time, not some other stalker. So there’s that.”

“Which hospital?” He was having trouble breathing.

“Evergreen. It’s just up the hill, on the ridge,” Cressida said. “By Echo Glen . . . drive carefully, would you? She’ll be okay. She’s tough.”

He didn’t care. He bolted for the car like he was on fire.

* * *

If there was anything Hailey hated, it was hospitals. She hadn’t been in many, but they creeped her out. And the expense—she had health insurance, but the ambulance ride and God knows what tests they might try to insist on or how long they’d want her to stay for “observation,” had anxiety starting to bubble through her. She wondered if this was going to eat away all the profits from their sale, and felt tears burning at her eyes.

Nope. She wasn’t going to start spiraling down that way. She was tougher than that. Maybe she’d sue Ghost Blonde the stalker. This was her fault, after all.

She rubbed the nascent tears away from her eyes, frowning. She needed to get some clothes. They’d given her stitches. She was going to look like Frankenstein, but there wasn’t any serious damage. She needed to get home. As soon as the damned paperwork . . .

Her phone buzzed, and she grabbed it. Rachel. “I’m fine, Rache,” Hailey said, without preamble, knowing it was the first thing Rachel would want—need—to hear.

“Stabbed?”

“Sliced, technically,” Hailey said quickly, “and stitched up. I’m fine, seriously. No permanent damage. Just some wicked-looking cuts.”

“Scarring?”

“Wouldn’t surprise me.” She let out a little broken laugh. “Hey, chicks dig scars.”

Rachel sighed. “I’ll get off work early, and skip out of class tonight. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Stop that,” Hailey said. “There’s nothing you can do here, so why take the time? I’ll spring for a cab home, and hang out with Cressida.” Ugh, which reminded her . . . she had to tell the casino she might need to miss tomorrow’s morning shift. Although maybe it wouldn’t be that bad . . . she could probably still deal cards, as long as she took it easy and the pain meds didn’t make her loopy.

“Knock it off, would you? Stop being so noble for fifteen fucking minutes!”

Hailey’s eyes widened. When Rachel swore, you knew things were serious.

“Do not worry about this. You’ve been trying too hard, working too hard. And I’m tired of seeing my sisters hurting because we’ve had financial issues. I’ve got this.”

“You’ve got this?” Hailey laughed weakly. “How?”

“I’ve got enough money for us to last six months.”

Hailey goggled. “How the hell did you manage that? Did you start making meth in a trailer or something?”

“I sold Ren’s ring.”

“Your engagement ring?” Now Hailey’s jaw dropped. “But . . . no. Come on. That’s . . .”

“That was ancient history,” Rachel said firmly. “I should’ve done it years ago.”

“You loved Ren. Like, really loved him.” And, Hailey suspected, still loved him, even though she never talked about it.

“Yes, well . . . he didn’t love me,” Rachel said, and her voice was so monotone Hailey knew she was keeping it together only by sheer force of will, because there was a well of pain behind those words. “If he had, his parents wouldn’t have bought him off and had him abandon me.”

“C’mon. He was the love of your life,” Hailey said, and now that she had more of a sense of what that felt like, she could only imagine the pain her sister was going through. “I know how much that thing means to you.”

“It doesn’t mean anything,” Rachel said calmly, even though Hailey knew she was lying right down to her painted toenails. “I’d always held onto it for emergencies. And let’s face it, it’s way past time to admit: we’re in an emergency. So I sold it.”

“Already?” Hailey winced. “Can you get it back?”

“Even if I could, I’m not going to,” Rachel said. “Damn it. I’m just sorry I was too involved in night school and doing the event planning job at the casino and the stuff with the bookstore . . .”

“Only those three things?” Hailey teased, trying to get her to lighten up.

Rachel plowed on, ignoring her interjection. “ . . . to notice just how much you were struggling. You don’t have to carry the family on your shoulders, Hailey. I’m more capable than you give me credit for.” She was quiet for a long moment. “I want you to trust that I’ll take care of you and Cressida, too, just like you take care of me. That I’m your sister.”

“Of course you’re my sister,” Hailey said, but swallowed. Maybe that had been an issue, a resentment, a long time ago. But now, it wasn’t. She loved Rachel.

Now, she needed to trust her.

“So take time off from the casino.” Rachel’s voice was stern. “For God’s sake, Hales, you got attacked by a knife-wielding maniac. You need some down time.”

“All right, all right. I’ll . . . take time off,” Hailey said.

“I love you.”

Hailey’s eyes welled up. “Love you, too, Rache.”

She hung up. God. The world’s turned upside down, she thought. She was used to being the rock, the one that everyone could count on. She was used to counting on herself. Now, she was relying on Rachel. Cressida saved her life. It should have made her feel frightened. Instead, she felt . . . loved. Cared for. She’d been vulnerable. They’d had her back.

It was mind-blowing.

What else was she missing out there?

There was a knock on her door, and she looked up. “Jake,” she breathed. For a second, her pain was forgotten, and all the warmth that she’d been feeling magnified. She loved this man. She knew that, in every fiber of her being.

She just had to be brave enough to admit it.

He rushed to her side. “Oh, my God,” he breathed, and she shifted a little, trying to pull the hospital gown up to cover the gash on her chest better.

“It looks worse than it is.”

“This is my fault,” he said, and the recrimination in his voice tore at her. “I should’ve insisted Vic stay with you guys. I should’ve known that she would . . .”

“Okay, stop,” she said, taking his hand and squeezing firmly. “First, how could you know she’d attack me? We thought she was taken care of. Second, it’s not your fault. It’s her fault. Third—I’m fine, I really am fine. Just a few cuts. Not a big deal.”

He stroked her cheek with his free hand, leaning against the bed. “I don’t want you hurt. Ever.”

“Well, I don’t want to be hurt, so we’re even.” She blinked. “Wait. Aren’t you supposed to be on a plane? You’re supposed to be in South America!”

“Things changed.”

She stared at him, looking deeply into his eyes. They hadn’t known each other that long, but the seriousness, the caring, shocked her. She simply couldn’t process the idea of anybody caring about her that way—not even her sisters. Not until now.

It was terrifying.

She was tired of being scared.

She patted the side of the bed. “Sit down.”

He did, still staring at her, swallowing hard. “Hailey . . .”

“No, let me talk,” she said. “I . . . listen. I didn’t even know who you were a week ago. I mean, not other than general fangirl stuff. But the more I’ve gotten to know you . . . well, the more I . . . like you. Care about you.”

Come on. Say it!

She swallowed like there was peanut butter stuck to the roof of her mouth. They’d left her some water. She hastily gulped some down.

“I like you, too,” he said, pushing a curl away from her face. “I care about you. You know that, right?”

“I didn’t understand what that could mean,” she said softly. “But . . . I think I do. Now.”

His smile was like a sunrise.

“I have some time off, apparently.” She took a deep breath, like she was going to leap off a cliff. “So . . . I mean, I couldn’t take three months off, or anything, and I’ll be honest, I can’t afford a ticket. But if you still want me to come to Brazil with you . . . I could. I mean, I will.” She paused. “If you want.”

His eyes were shining, and his hand gripped hers hard. She squeezed back, just as hard.

“And after that,” she said, fighting off shivers, “I, um . . . well. I’ve never done the long-distance relationship thing. I mean, I’ve honestly never done anything relationship-ish. But if you want . . . maybe we could, um, see how it goes.”

“You’re willing to have a relationship with me?” he said carefully.

She nodded.

A nurse came in. “Are you all right?” she asked. “Your heart rate just went way up . . . oh!”

She’d finally gotten a load of Jake. Her eyes widened, and she smiled.

“Well. I can see why that happened! My goodness!”

Hailey burst into surprised laughter. “Um, I just need a minute?”

“Of course, of course,” the nurse said, winking at Jake. “The discharge paperwork will be ready in a few. I’ll just . . . yes, of course.” And she bustled out.

Jake was laughing, too. Then he leaned over and kissed her. It was gentle, but still full of promise.

“I am crazy about you, Hailey Frost,” he said against her lips, before pulling back. “I do have one question, though.”

She tensed. “Yes?”

“What if we didn’t do long distance?”

She felt her heart fall. “I care about you. I could fall in love with you,” she said, going for it, and was gratified when his eyes went wide. “I . . . think I already have.”

He smiled at her, and the emotion in his eyes made her chest warm like a fireplace.

“But I can’t leave my sisters,” she continued. “I won’t. I love them. And I know they can take care of themselves, but they’re family. I want to be near them, too. I still want to help, if I can.”

He nodded. “I wouldn’t ask you to do anything less. It’s part of what I love about you.”

What he loved about her? Now it was her turn for her eyes to widen.

“I talked to the producers myself,” he said. “I’m on the show.”

She let out a whoop. “Holy shit! That’s just what you wanted!” She grinned. “I’ll make sure Charlotte can handle the four-hour drive to Vancouver, buddy. Take lots of vitamins during the week. Your weekends are all mine.”

“There’s more news, although you’ll have to keep it a secret,” he said, leaning forward and whispering to her. “They’re moving production. They’re going to be filming in North Bend.”

“North Bend? As in, the next town over, just five minutes away North Bend?” she goggled.

“So you’d better get used to seeing me constantly.”

She hugged him, hard, then yelped, wincing. “Goddamn stitches.”

He kissed her, gently. “I’m not letting you get away that easily,” he said. “And I’m not letting go.”

She smiled. “I’m not letting you get away, either.” And sealed the promise with a kiss.

* * *

One month later.

“Are you sure you know how to put together a bookshelf?” Hailey called, then grinned when she heard Jake’s derisive snort.

“I am useful,” he called back from the kitchen. “I can. Ow, goddamn it!”

“Do not hurt yourself,” she said, with a low chuckle. “I can always get Kyla’s brother to help us out. Hell, I can get Kyla.”

“You think you’re insulting me with your traditional masculine roles jibes, but you’re not,” he said. “Besides, this is from Ikea. You don’t need to be male to build this, you just need to be able to follow instructions.” He paused. “In Danish. Jeez, how many pieces does this thing have?”

“Stay strong.” She burst into laughter, and she saw him bend backward through the doorway, giving her the finger before getting back to work.

“This is so awesome,” Cressida said, caressing the pieces as she put them away. There was a lot of stuff from shows, books, and movies they loved. Arrow, Firefly, Doctor Who, The Sandman, Attack on Titan . . . you name it. Cressida was lining up Marvel bobbleheads next to a Supernatural-themed Monopoly game and a Mystics version of Risk. Jake had been instrumental in getting a lot of signed stuff for them, too—from Mystics, obviously, but also from industry friends and people he knew. He had a new agent now, and she knew that he was still hurt over Susie’s betrayal and his father’s duplicity, but mostly he was happy. The show was on hiatus while they moved production from Vancouver to North Bend, so he’d spent every moment he could with Hailey. And since Hailey had gotten attacked, she’d had two weeks off, and had taken time off from the casino. Now, with the influx of money from Rachel’s ring, they were putting what they could into revamping the store.

“Frost Fandoms,” she said, nodding at the sign Kyla had painted for them. “I like it.”

Fans across the internet knew that production was moving, which meant more fans coming in. And news of Hailey’s attack had spread, thanks to Rainbow Scarf’s video and photos. Hailey was becoming a celebrity in her own right. This was not something she was necessarily comfortable with, but she loved being with Jake, so it was worth the inconvenience and weirdness. Besides, she loved fans. It wasn’t so hard, especially when they could geek out and talk about stuff they loved.

Ghost Blonde—whose real name was Samantha Deiter—had a history of stalking and mental issues. She was in a criminal psych ward, which helped Hailey feel better.

“I love this,” a woman enthused. “It’s kind of out of the way, but I love everything you’ve got here. I can see myself spending plenty of money.”

“That’s what we love to hear,” Rachel said. It was a weekend, so she didn’t have to work at the casino or go to school, and she was putting all she could into boosting the store. They’d repainted, and were putting in new shelves, new displays. The whole crowd was there, it seemed.

Miles came in. “I got those shirts you wanted.” He was friendly, kind, and obviously a good friend to Jake, which made her like Miles even more. Simon was funny, and also cared about Jake. He seemed to have his own issues with Snoqualmie, and wasn’t thrilled when they moved to North Bend, but she’d get him to hang out in the store eventually, she thought.

It was working out. She was almost scared to trust how well it was working out.

“Done,” Jake said, bringing out the new, plain bookshelf. “There we go. What do you think?”

“I want a Doctor Who display,” Cressida said.

“We said that it’d be a Mystics display,” Rachel said.

“We already have that, there,” Cressida said.

“Yes, but . . .”

They started debating. Hailey felt Jake sidle up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, just below her breasts. He pressed a kiss to her neck, and she sighed.

“They’re going to be at that for a while,” he murmured. “Think we can sneak upstairs for a bit?”

Hailey shivered. She couldn’t get enough of him, it seemed. And she didn’t have to worry about it.

“I’m taking a break,” she said, as the sisters absently nodded and continued their arguing. Then she and Jake crept upstairs.

His mouth was on her before her bedroom door closed.

“And you said you never bring sex home,” he teased, taking off his shirt as she took off hers, as well as her bra.

“I don’t bring sex home,” she said, shimmying out of her pants and underwear. Then she stared at him, her heart feeling so full, she thought she’d explode with it.

She took a deep breath.

“I brought love home,” she said, softly.

He paused in the act of stripping off his own pants. “Hailey.”

“Come here and love me,” she said, trying to brush past it. To not focus on the fact that she’d never said that word—love—to any man before. That she’d never felt it before—and certainly not like this.

“I love you, too, Hailey Frost,” he breathed, his heart in his eyes.

It was like falling, she thought. No. It was like flying.

She grinned. “Hurry up,” she said, laughing with pure joy. “We’ve got work to do.”

“All right,” he said, grinning back at her like a fool, stripping the rest of the way and diving at her. “But to make up for it, we do slow tonight.”

“We’ll do everything tonight,” she said, and held him like she was never going to let him go.