Clem never liked celebrating her birthday, but today she was more leery of what was to come than she had been in any of her previous twenty-eight years. Her family had been relatively toned down since getting back from Beecham Lake and promised not to go overboard with the celebration, but she was still worried this dinner would prove to be more than she could handle.

Funny how a metaphorical broken heart could leave a person with so much actual, physical pain.

The fresh, summer evening air hit her skin when she walked out of her front door and trudged down the porch steps, reminding her it had been so long since she’d gone outside, she was probably starting to grow mold. Her sisters had been over every day, dropping off so many containers of food from her mom that she wouldn’t need to go to the grocery store for another month. With no reason to leave the house, she’d been staying inside, working on her next contract, which was proving to be a struggle once again. Her eyes immediately darted down the road to the Holy Grale.

God, she missed that place. The dark wood that smelled like mahogany and lemon. The intricate stained glass windows that carried a century of history and mystique. The buzz of people that provided the perfect background noise to focus on her work. And, of course, Jake. She’d listened to her sisters last weekend and reached out to him once more. And when he’d texted her at the exact same moment, her heart did a cartwheel inside her chest. But it didn’t stick the landing.

He missed her, but he didn’t beg her to come back. And she couldn’t blame him, no matter how much her heart ached. He’d been honest from the beginning that he wasn’t looking for anything serious, and that he was still haunted by the ghosts of his past. She was the one who’d embroiled them in lies and doomed their chances from the start. He would either decide he could move past that or not. Until then, she needed to stop thinking about him for the sake of her heart.

Hiding in her home wasn’t helping her stop thinking about him, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to go out in public yet, either. Only the promise of birthday cake got her to wash her hair, put on clean jeans, and leave the house. But what if the barbeque restaurant they were meeting at didn’t have cake? One of these days she was going to have to ask her mom to teach her how to bake so she never suffered another cake emergency. Then she’d really never have to leave her house again.

With a small sigh, she climbed into her Forrester, set the car into reverse, and turned up the volume on her radio, hoping to squeeze in a few more minutes of the audiobook she’d been listening to.

But it wasn’t the narrator’s smooth, female voice she heard.

This story is pretty simple. Once upon a time there was this guy. I’m not going to call him a hero because he was actually an idiot. The most idiotic idiot in the history of idiots because he almost let the best thing in his life walk away from him.

“Jake,” she whispered, as though just saying his name would make him magically appear in the seat next to her.

But there was hope for this idiot, because he had a plan to win her back. But first there was something he needed to say. He was sorry for his epically bad timing. Sorry for hurting her. Sorry that he’d gotten so caught up in the shadow of his self-loathing that he didn’t even realize the sun was shining directly on him the day the most incredible woman walked into his bar. Oh, and really sorry that he didn’t tell her how great her legs look into those cut-offs.

A small laugh escaped her lips. His delivery was stilted, filled with too many “umms” and awkward pauses, but it was the best thing she’d ever heard.

So this idiot got a lucky break in life when the heroine of the story got caught up in a little white lie and needed his help. This was the idiot’s chance to be a hero, and for a while he actually pulled it off. He found a way to make her laugh and smile. And then he fell for her. But when things hit a rough patch, he panicked. All he could think about was all the ways he would screw things up and how he didn’t deserve the heroine. Maybe he didn’t deserve her, but he was willing to try to become the kind of man who did. Even if it meant making this silly recording on his iPhone. So this is the part where you, Clem, the heroine of this story, turn the car around.

She veered the Forrester so hard, she nearly took out a fire hydrant, tires screeching against the pavement.

You’re not going to the Sticky Fingers BBQ Joint. Well, you can go there if you want because you don’t have to listen to an idiot like me, but your family isn’t at the restaurant. They’re here at the Holy Grale with me. Where you should be. Where you belong. Please come back.

She stepped on the gas and raced to the Holy Grale, blowing right past her own driveway. There was no time to stop. She was so full of adrenaline, any wasted second would make her explode. She came to a stop in the parking lot and performed the crappiest parking job in the history of gas-powered automobiles before jumping out and dashing to the front door.

Every seat in the place was full, but she didn’t see Jake anywhere. Neither could she find her family, who usually stuck out in any crowd like a bright blond cluster of chaos. Confusion seeped into her mind as she scanned the place again.

A woman sitting at a tall bar table near the entrance swiveled in her chair. “Oh hey, this is for you.”

It took Clem a moment to realize the woman was talking to her, holding a small piece of paper. Clue #2 at your spot.

The woman waved her off with a sly wink. The note was written in bright blue ink against what looked to be a shredded piece of a page of a book. One of her books. The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, to be exact. What the heck?

Clem dashed to her usual seat at the bar, trying to hold back her flaring jealousy when she found a guy in a triple-X Seahawks jersey occupying it. He was surround by a large crowd of similarly clad buddies, all of whose attention was firmly fixed on the game playing on the flat screen in the corner.

Crap. She was going to have to get this guy’s attention and actually talk to him. In any other circumstance, she would say screw it, head home, and abandon her plans in favor of a good book and tub of ice cream. Why was he pushing her out of her comfort zone like this?

Because I’m the heroine of this story. She would have face-palmed if she hadn’t spent the last twenty-eight years of her life avoiding drawing attention to herself. That’s what Jake meant. The heroine of every story needs to find the courage to overcome adversity.

She cleared her throat, which got her nowhere with the burly guy. She steeled her courage and reached her index finger to gently prod his arm. The crowd erupted in cheers, jumping from their seats. The man spun around and wrapped his thick arms around her, lifting her off the ground.

“Yes! Touchdown! Oh—” he dropped her to her feet. “Oh! Here, this is for you.”

He handed her a paper—this time from one of her favorite cozy mysteries—that said “Don’t look down.”

Ever the gullible fool, she immediately glanced at her feet. That’s when she realized nearly everyone in the space was watching her. Smiling. Scott, the bartender, shook his head in a clear attempt not to laugh at her and pointed up.

Right. Don’t look down; look up. There was a mezzanine that was pretty much only used for small events—a fact she knew from the sheer amount of time she spent here even though she’d never gone up there before. She climbed up the steps on the far left side of the bar, holding tight to the wrought iron railing.

Jake was waiting at the top, holding a plate with a slice of cake and a lit candle on top. Red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting. She would recognize that deliciousness anywhere. “Glad you made it.”

“I had a few obstacles, but I figured it out.” Her smile was so wide, her cheeks ached, but the rest of her body seemed to be frozen in the spot.

“I knew you would.”

She raised one eyebrow, earning a small laugh.

“Fine. I’ve been an obnoxious wreck for the past twelve hours. I’ve cleaned every surface in the back and front rooms hoping this stupid scheme would work. This place hasn’t been the same without you. I haven’t been the same without you.”

“I’m here now.”

His smile was so big, it felt like the sun to her earth. “Yeah, you are.”

She closed the distance between them and threw her arms around his neck. His mouth met hers and everything else in the world felt completely, utterly insignificant. The only thing that mattered was the press of his lips against hers. The way his arm wrapped around her waist. The way he felt like home.

He broke the kiss and lifted the cake into her view with his free hand. “Does this mean my apology is accepted?”

“It means you had me at cake.”

“Good, because I convinced your mom to give up her red velvet with cream cheese frosting recipe so I could add it to our menu. Now, don’t forget to blow out the candle.”

She made a show of sucking in a breath, but instead of blowing, she swiped her finger along the top of the cake and popped the bite of frosting into her mouth. The rush of sugar was the closest thing to a non-sexual orgasm she’d ever experienced.

“The candle?”

She shook her head. “Nah. My sisters told me that every candle not blown out equals one boyfriend.”

“Right answer.” The hunger in his eyes was almost more delicious than the cake. He kissed her again. Fiercely. His tongue swept against her in a private dance—one only they knew the steps to. She melted into him, losing all track of time, until he broke the kiss again.

“Come on, there’s more.”

He led her to a door at the far end of the mezzanine. She could hear the buzzing of her family behind it, particularly her mom’s voice shouting at everyone to be quiet and not ruin the surprise.

He stopped at the door, a sheepish look on his handsome face. “I know that being with you means that sometimes you’ll need to zone out for a few hours alone. And I know that sometimes it means being with your family, too. And that’s okay, because I want it all. I want to see you across the bar from me every day while you work, and watch the way every thought from your brilliant mind plays out on your lips. I want the quiet evenings with you curled up on the couch in front the fireplace. I want the explosive nights in bed with you. And, yeah, I even want Sunday dinners at your mom and dad’s house, because no one has ever made me feel like I belong in a family the way they have.”

She didn’t think her chest could squeeze any tighter in that moment. “And here I thought it was just the marshmallow salad drawing you back.”

He shook his head. “Just you. Always you.”

The door opened a crack, and Millie’s face poked out. “You’re supposed to come in for your surprise now,” she whispered with wide eyes before disappearing behind the opaque wood panel.

“Come on, we can’t keep them waiting, or they’ll explode from the excitement and my insurance doesn’t cover that.”

There was so much she wanted to say. So much left to tell him, but everything in this moment was too surreal to process.

Everyone jumped to their feet when she stepped inside the crowded room. “Happy birthday!”

There wasn’t a glitter cannon in sight, but still her mouth parted into a perfect ‘O.’ There was a big, comfy-looking leather couch that was currently holding five people and two matching wingback chairs. The walls of the space were lined with bookshelves.

She recognized every single book.

“Do you like it?” Jake asked.

“These are my books,” she whispered, still in shock.

“Most of them. I had to order the ones I couldn’t find at the bookstore, but they should be here in a couple of days.”

“But how?”

“We helped Uncle Jake!” Millie said. “We had to stay up all night putting all the ripped pieces of your books together like a big puzzle!”

“All night!” Ellie echoed.

Jake cleared his throat. “Just the covers. Not like the whole books or anything.”

Ellie grinned. “We didn’t sleep at all.”

The redness in their eyes and purple bags beneath suggested they were telling the truth.

Never in her life had she seen Jake look so uncomfortable. It was positively adorable. “It only took three hours, and everyone helped. Except Poppy. She just ate the pages so we had to fire her.”

Millie tugged on his sleeve. “You owe us fifty dollars, Uncle Jake. Don’t forget!”

Clover pulled the twins back and locked them in place with her arms. “That’s going straight into your college fund.”

Tears prickled Clem’s eyes. “I can’t believe you did this for me.”

“I think we’re going to take you up on that offer for a tour of the brewery now. Everybody out,” her mom said. She ushered everyone out of the room, stopping only to pat Clem on the cheek. “I know I’m just your mom, and you don’t like taking my advice about your love life, but I think you should forgive him.”

“I already have.”

He closed the door behind them, leaving just the two of them in complete privacy. She studied the bookshelf, running her finger along the perfectly intact spines. He came up behind her and tucked his hand along her belly. “You can take these home, but I’m planning on filling the shelves up with some more books.”

“I can’t believe you did this.”

“It’s too easy to say the right words, even when you don’t mean them. I wanted to show you what you mean to me. I wanted you to always feel welcome here.”

“That’s good, because I’m never leaving.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way. From now on, just you, me, and nothing but the truth.”

She nodded. “I promise. Come on, let’s go find my parents.”

“I don’t think they’ve done the tour yet.”

“I know, but this can’t wait. I need to properly introduce them to my new boyfriend.”

He laughed and entwined his fingers with hers. “Anything for you.”