I smiled to myself as I walked barefoot on the sand, my heels dangling from my fingers. The ocean roared beside me under a blazing orange sky. My bare shoulders shivered from the freezing wind that rushed over the icy water and my champagne-colored dress whipped around my legs.

Next to me, William strolled with his shoes in his hands, looking like a GQ model in his tuxedo.

“That was an amazing speech.”

He flashed me a brilliant smile. “Yours was okay.”

"Ass."

He laughed at his joke and then sobered. "They only dated a year before marrying, right?"

"Yeah." Looking behind me, I could make out Jessica in her huge, billowing wedding dress along with Luke in his dark suit. My eyes watered, and I wiped them.

“Hey, what’s this?” Will halted as he stepped in front of me.

“Oh, you know. I’m just sad that we’re all growing up.”

And moving out.

He slid his arm around my waist. “You’ll be moving in with me in the Marina and Pacific Heights isn’t that far, babe. You’re not losing her.”

I sighed. “I know, it’s just—ah!”

Icy water suddenly rushed over our bare feet, and I giggled as the wet sand gushed around my toes. Will laughed at me as the bottom of my dress was soaked and once again I marveled at how much he changed in a year. He laughed all the time. There was always a smile on his face—and Luke warmed up to him considerably. Nowadays, they were inseparable. Jessica and I joked that they were even closer than we were.

He grabbed my hand once again, and I was surprised by how fast my heart beat. Every time he smiled at me, I felt butterflies soar.

“You know what this reminds me of?”

“What?”

“Cinque Terre.”

He smiled at the memory. “Yeah.”

It was where I fell in love with him. It was where I saw the most incredible sights. Monterey had little in common with Cinque Terre. Whenever I saw the ocean, I thought about that brilliant turquoise and azure blue stretched out under a cliff of bright green vineyards.

“You’ll see it again,” he said, noticing my look. “Maybe sooner than you think.”

I grinned hard. It was my birthday in a few months. “Don’t spoil anything!”

He held up his hands. “I’m not spoiling! I said, ‘maybe.’”

Rolling my eyes, I squeezed his hand and planted a kiss on his cheek. “How’s WPF?”

WPF was the acronym for the William Pardini Foundation, which he launched months ago when we finished the website. Jessica helped write the content. The launch was one of the proudest moments of my life.

“It’s going awesome, and it’s all down to you.”

I looked at him. “Will, come on.”

“I would have never done it if you hadn’t pushed me.”

“I did it because I wanted your body,” I ribbed.

I yelped as he spun me around and held me to his chest.

“Well, it worked.” He leaned over me and paused, looking more serious than usual. “I love you.”

My passionate kiss ended any more idle talk and soon his hands were smoothing my shoulders and his eyes gleamed with the need to have me alone in our vacation rental on the beach. His gaze flicked toward it.

“Let’s go,” I whispered in his ear.

We ran down the beach, hand in hand.

* * *

If you enjoyed this modern fairy-tale romance, please remember to leave a review on Amazon! Keep reading for the first few chapters of The Mechanic, a romantic comedy. Make sure to sign up for my for more information!

Marriage and kids with him? You must be joking.

Gage Carter is the poster boy for rude, rugged, and obnoxious. He’s the town’s mechanic. When he’s not giving me a hard time about my car, he’s mocking my city girl ways.

He's a small town roughneck with a dirty reputation and a mouth to match. I'm a city girl. We go together like champagne and whiskey. 

People told me he was trouble. But that didn’t stop me from craving his filthy promises that make my blood pound for hours. Or having full body shivers whenever he says my name.

This joy ride’s gone too far. Now we’re married—by accident—no less. The town’s most ineligible bachelor is my husband. 

Oh, and I’m pregnant.

——

The last thing I need is a wife…

Especially a high-maintenance one like Olivia Stewart. I’ve got no patience for a demanding, feisty city girl who thinks she can walk into my business and order me around.

But now that I’ve tasted her, I can’t get her out of my mind. She may be a burr in my side but she’s as sweet as honey. When she’s not driving me crazy, she’s driving me wild.

One problem: Some puffed-up rich boy from San Francisco thinks she’s his, and he’ll make my life hell if I don’t give her up.

Good luck with that. I can’t be bought, and I’m not giving up my wife and baby.

He wants a fight? This means war.