Knot on the Market (Honeyridge Falls #1)

Lila

D ay three in Honeyridge Falls, and I'm waking up without checking my phone for damage control messages from my publicist. The quiet mornings are taking some getting used to after years of LA's relentless pace, but there's something deeply satisfying about starting the day without crisis management.

More importantly, there's something satisfying about waking up in a house where I handled yesterday's problems myself. Well, mostly myself. With some neighborly guidance that I'm choosing to see as educational rather than rescue.

I dress in yesterday's jeans and the cleanest sweater I can find, a soft gray cashmere that's probably too nice for hardware shopping but is the most casual thing I packed. The walk into town will do me good, and I need to start figuring out where to buy the basics of small-town life.