BEACHCOMBER INN: BOOK 1
FOREVER SUMMER
“For sale: Beachcomber Inn. This charming B&B has seen better days, but a little TLC will bring it back to life. Price: $1 to the right owner…”
Evie Baxter-Jones has never been impulsive… Until the night she goes online to buy a new bathrobe, and winds up the proud owner of a bed and breakfast on Cape Cod. She’s hoping life in Sweetbriar Cove will be a fresh start away from the sympathetic smiles she’s been getting, ever since she was widowed before her thirtieth birthday. She’s not expecting to find a town full of quirky locals, the Inn in desperate need of repairs — or for her handsome new neighbor to make her heart beat faster in her chest. When he’s not driving her crazy with his playboy ways, that is…
Local firefighter, Noah Montgomery, isn’t looking to put his heart on the line. He’s sworn to keep his life simple and drama-free, until the new owner of the Beachcomber Inn arrives in town, and makes him think twice about his solo plans. Evie is beautiful, captivating - and stubborn as hell. She’s determined to get the Beachcomber Inn up and running again, and Noah is just being a good neighbor by lending a hand…
At least, that’s his story, but as the pair grow closer, the sparks between them are impossible to ignore. Soon, the summer is heating up with a passion Evie never saw coming. She knows heartbreak all too well, but can Noah convince her to take a chance on love again? Or will the tragedies of the past keep them from their new forever?
Find out in the new charming, feel-good trip to Sweetbriar Cove - featuring all your favorite characters!
The Sweetbriar Cove Series:
1. Meant to Be
2. All for You
3. The Only One
4. I’m Yours
5. Holiday Kisses (A Christmas Story)
6. No Ordinary Love
7. Wildest Dreams
8. This Kiss
9. Always Be Mine
10. Two Hearts (Kinsella Family #1)
11. The Story of Us
12. Back to You
13. One More Night
14. Time After Time
15. Forever Summer (Beachcomber Inn #1)
16. Simply Irresistible
17. From This Moment
1
Evie Baxter-Jones was ready for a fresh start. She’d packed up her life, quit her job, and left her friends and family baffled by her impulsive move to Cape Cod, but driving along the bumpy shore road as the sun set across the glittering bay, Evie felt it in her bones: she’d made the right decision. Wild grasses rustled on the dunes, the ocean crashed against the shore in a soothing rhythm, and the water was clear enough that she could see a handful of sailboats, bobbing merrily on the tide.
Yes, she thought, as she took a deep breath of cleansing salty air. This was exactly what she needed. A new page; a blank slate. After all the heartache and grief of the past two years, she could finally feel things turning around.
Nothing but blue skies ahead—
Then she rounded the bend and saw it there in front of her, nestled in the dunes: the reason she’d upended her life and embarked on this crazy new adventure.
The Beachcomber Inn.
And suddenly, Evie didn’t feel so certain about anything anymore. Because the house was a total, absolute, terrifying disaster.
She pulled up outside and slowly got out of her car, staring up at the house in disbelief. “Oh God,” she panicked, frozen there on the spot. “What have I done?”
The old, Victorian-style house sat squarely on the edge of the sand, gazing out over the perfect view. But that was just about the only perfect thing it had going for it. Maybe in its heyday the blue shingles and turreted roof had impressed guests, but now the wood was warped and peeling, and the whole place was in a state of shabby disrepair. Windows were cracked and grubby, the porch was full of rotting planks and broken railings, and everything was covered in a thick layer of sand, like the beach itself was trying to swallow the place whole.
Evie stood there in shock. She’d known the place needed some fixing up, but there was a difference between a few manageable projects, and this … this wreckage!
What on earth had she gotten herself into?
She should have known nothing came for free. Or, in this case, for a dollar. She’d only been looking for a new bathrobe, browsing online one night, but somewhere between the snug flannel listings, the ad had caught her eye.
For sale: Beachcomber Inn. This charming B&B on Cape Cod has seen better days, but some TLC will bring it back to life. Price: $1 to the right owner …
Who could resist a promise like that? Evie found herself clicking through to the website and filling out an application. She’d never expected it to ever come to anything, but a few weeks later, she’d gotten a call from a lawyer to say the offer was for real. The inn was hers, as long as she restored it to its former glory.
Of course, Evie was no fool, she knew that between property taxes and renovation costs, she’d still be spending her entire life savings getting the place fixed up and ready for business, but it seemed like a price worth paying. She could just imagine happy guests sitting out on the porch, drinking icy lemonade and planning their vacations around town. Bedrooms with crisp linens; open windows, sunshine, and a salty sea breeze. Being surrounded by a bustle of activity, building something new, instead of staying stuck in place with only memories to keep her warm.
Now, she took in the crumbling structure and tangle of weeds and saw those plans melt away into the blackberry thickets.
Was she in way over her head?
She pulled out her cellphone and called the lawyer. He’d already left for the day, his perky assistant relayed. “Would you like to leave a message?”
What was she going to say? I’ve changed my mind, please take it back?
But that wasn’t an option, the contract made sure of it: Evie had promised not to sell the place for five years. At the time, the lawyer had explained it was to stop her turning a quick profit to a developer who would just raze the place to the ground. Now, she wondered if it was to keep her from climbing back in her car and driving straight back to Boston as fast as her beat-up old station wagon would take her.
“No, thanks.” Evie hung up and found the only other contact she had in town. Noah Montgomery, the mysterious local who was handling things for the owner, had been spectacularly unhelpful so far, responding to her emails with nothing but gruff, taciturn replies. She’d decided he must be a grizzled old fisherman type with no time for newfangled technology—or her perfectly reasonable questions—but she’d take anyone she could get right now.
The phone rang and rang, but there was no answer there, either.
She was on her own.
OK then. Evie took a deep breath and climbed the front steps, careful to avoid the massive, gaping hole in the porch. The lawyer had sent her a package with the keys, but she could see already see she wouldn’t need them: the door was ajar. So, she braced herself and stepped over the threshold.
Inside, the large foyer was dim, so she flipped the light switch to take a better look, but nothing happened. No electricity, then. Luckily, the last rays of sunset was still spilling through the big windows, so Evie resisted her urge to turn tail and delved deeper into the house, moving past the grand staircase and down the main hallway, with its peeling floral wallpaper and scuffed wooden floors.