CHAPTER ONE

 

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JORDYN KRAIG CURSED when she heard the unmistakable noise. Not even Bruno Mars and the beat of his Uptown Funk could drown out the sound.

Damn it. She always had her car checked out from top to bottom before a road trip. Unfortunately, the most thorough mechanic couldn't prevent a flat tire.

With a sigh, Jordyn pulled to the side of the deserted rural road. Up before the sun, determined to miss the worst of the morning commuters, she'd left her brownstone on Seattle's Queen Anne Hill with a spring in her step and a familiar sense of anticipation.

The dark clouds overhead couldn't get her down. Jordyn was a Western Washington native. Born, bred, and entrenched for the long haul. Despite the exaggerated cliché of Seattle weather as rain, rain, and more rain, they did get their share—and more.

Early spring in the Pacific Northwest could be wet—very wet. This year, if the amount of early April showers was anything to go by, they would find themselves swimming in May flowers—literally.

Resigned to the delay, Jordyn turned off the ignition. The console on her car's dashboard flashed, asking for confirmation. Yes, she responded, hitting the button with more force than necessary. I have a flat tire. Yes. I need roadside assistance.

Modern technology saved Jordyn the trouble of calling for help. In a pinch, she could have changed the tire herself. Her father made certain his children—boy or girl—knew the basics of auto maintenance before they were allowed to drive solo.

Jordyn admired her newly manicured nails—Alluring Apricot—before glancing out the window as the sky chose that moment to open—a fresh deluge drenching her car. Yes, she could change a tire. However, could and would were two very different beasts.

Why chip her polish or ruin a brand-new pair of Italian leather boots when she could sit in the warm, dry comfort of her luxury SUV while somebody else took care of the frustrating, yet hardly life-altering inconvenience?

Jordyn checked her watch. She had an appointment in two hours. No matter how quick the repair, she still had another fifty miles to drive. Up, into, and over mountain terrain she'd never traveled.

In need of advice, Jordyn took out her phone and hit the number at the top of her contacts list.

"I didn't expect to hear from you until tonight."

Blue O'Hara. Best friend since childhood. Staunch, unwavering supporter of all ideas—from the possible to the downright crazy. From schoolyard bullies to jerk first boyfriends, Blue stood beside her, fists clenched.

Just the sound of her voice loosened the fiercest knots that had clustered at the base of Jordyn's neck.

"Flat tire." Blue understood her better than anybody, which gave Jordyn the leeway to jump right in without a bunch of unnecessary chit-chat. "I've spent three months charming a meeting out of Anastasia Perkins. I rehearsed my pitch until I'd achieved the perfect balance of charm and hard-nosed businesswoman."

"Breathe," Blue interjected.

"Right." Jordyn filled her lungs. In. Out. In. Out. Sometimes when she worked herself up, she forgot. Another reason she loved Blue.

"You always give yourself a ridiculously padded cushion of time."

"I know. Before the early bird could think about getting the worm, I was on the road. Herbal tea in the cup holder. But you know these off-the-beaten-track towns. The Cascades are full of them."

Jordyn didn't understand the desire to get away from it all. For centuries, people worked their butts off to improve their lot in life. She was all for a hike through the woods, if at the end of the trail waited indoor plumbing, a hot shower, ultra-soft cotton sheets, and a big bowl of microwave popcorn to eat while she binge-watched the latest season of Chopped.

To each his own, Jordyn sighed. Or her own. The problem was, to keep her high-end beauty boutiques supplied with the latest can't-do-without lotions and potions, often, she had to go to the source.

Today was a perfect case in point.

"My car's GPS system is state of the art. The roads aren't. Three wrong turns and my cushion's been reduced to a fast-closing window."

"You have no choice. Call the woman—Anastasia Perkins? Tell her your situation. And remind her—in a gentle, yet firm manner—that you have the power to make her a lot of money. Enough to keep her in granola and Birkenstocks for many years to come. Or, Manolos and caviar." Jordyn could almost see Blue's live-and-let-live shrug. "Whatever her weak spot."

Sympathetic friend one second, no-nonsense business executive the next. Jordyn could count on Blue. Whatever. Whenever.

As the head of public relations for the Seattle Cyclones baseball team, Blue had to deal with one crisis after another—sticky situations that often involved pulling high-salaried athletes' balls out of the fire.

Team owners or petulant jocks, Blue never blinked first.

"You're right." As usual. "I can always find another miracle cream. I simply need to remind Anastasia Perkins that she needs me more than I need her."

Blue chuckled. "Jordyn Kraig. Barracuda businesswoman."

"Damn right."

As little girls, Jordyn and Blue used to share their dreams—future world beaters—determined nothing would stand in their way. Not even thirty years old, and they were on track straight to the top.

"How are things in Arizona?" Jordyn asked.

"Sunny and eighty-one degrees."

Jordyn felt her newly restored good mood dip—slightly. She might envy Blue for the weather, but not the accompanying baseball.

"Spring Training games. Is there anything more boring?"

"Just off the top of my head, I can think of a few. Sitting in a car—in the pouring rain—waiting for a tow truck tops the list."

"Touché. At least you have a devoted fiancé to help pass the time."

"Spencer is in Arizona to hone his considerable athletic skills and get ready for the regular season. He isn't here to entertain me."

Jordyn felt a glow of happiness every time she remembered her best friend and her brother were back together and planned to marry next fall. Their story proved that true love could conquer all.

"Come on," Jordyn teased. "You and Spencer can't keep your hands off each other. You can't tell me the two of you aren't enjoying a little fun in the sun."

"Maybe. A little." Blue turned the teasing back on Jordyn. "Want details?"

"About you and Spencer? Not on your life."

The only drawback to the Blue and Spencer love fest? Jordyn couldn't enjoy a vicarious thrill from her friend's very active sex life. Anything about her brother was strictly off limits. Just the thought made her shudder.

The computer on the dashboard of her car flashed, drawing Jordyn's attention.

"Tow truck is approximately a mile away."

"Good. With any luck, you'll make your appointment." Blue's optimism was contagious.

"Fingers crossed."

"I'll be back in Seattle next week. Wine and pizza at your place?"

"Sounds good."

"Take care of yourself."

The phrase was familiar—but heartfelt. Jordyn spent a lot of time traveling. By car. By plane. Occasionally, by train. A woman alone—even a savvy one—was vulnerable. Though they kept their thoughts to themselves—for the most part—her family worried. Blue worried too. However, she wasn't as reticent about holding her tongue.

"Name somebody better at taking care of herself than me."

"A black belt in karate is impressive."

"Thank you."

"Make sure you check Mr. Tow Truck's identification."

Jordyn chuckled.

"I love you, Blue."

"Love you, too."

How lucky was she? Jordyn thought as a truck with a huge winch on the back pulled to a stop in front of her SUV. Her friend was the best of the best. Her family—mother, father, three brothers—ranked right at the top of any list. They worried and fussed and meddled. Poked and prodded. They could be annoying as hell.

And Jordyn wouldn't have traded a single one of them for anything in the entire world or beyond.