Chapter one
Penn
Present Day
“To Astrid!” My older brother, Dallas, raises his glass and the rest of the crew follows his lead, echoing his sentiment as they do.
“Thank you, Dallas.” The apples of Astrid’s cheeks turn pink, but I know it’s because all the attention is on her. She’s not a fan of that, but I also know that in this moment, she fucking deserves it.
“Seriously,” he continues, “I’m pissed I’m losing my top waitress, but I’m also so damn happy for you.
” He pulls his girlfriend, Willow, to his side as she nods her head in agreement.
If it weren’t for Willow, we wouldn’t even be celebrating Astrid tonight.
Her arrival in Carrington Cove has done more than just improve my brother’s mood over the past two months.
Catch & Release, my brother’s restaurant and bar, is packed with employees and friends, closed to the public for Astrid’s going away party.
As of last week, she is now the proud new owner of the Sunshine Bakery, a Carrington Cove icon.
Greg and Jenny, the former owners, opened the doors to the bakery over forty years ago and have made a name for themselves with the townsfolk and tourists.
Astrid started working part-time for them about four years ago, just after her husband—and one of my best friends—Brandon died.
That’s the thing about living in a small town: everyone knows everyone, and we all show up for each other.
Dallas continues his speech. “Everyone here has been lucky enough to sample your talent each time you brought in your latest creation for us to try. Those days when there were cupcakes in the breakroom, you would have thought there were the winning lotto numbers scratched onto a paper for someone to find.” The room fills with laughter and several heads nod.
“And now, the entire town of Carrington Cove will be blessed to partake in your treats and talent any time they want. We will miss your smile and energy around here, but now is your time to shine.”
Astrid’s eyes fill with tears as she mouths, “Thank you.”
“To prosperity and good fortune! May your business flourish and the headaches of business ownership be mild!” Dallas calls out once more as the entire bar erupts in cheers and everyone takes a drink of their beverage in hand.
“I told you he was going to make you cry,” Willow says as she walks up to Astrid and pulls her in for a hug.
“I swear, I feel like I’ve cried more in the past week than I have in years.” Astrid wipes away a tear from under her eye. “But seriously, Willow. None of this would be happening without your generosity.”
“That’s not true. You’d make it happen.”
“Not likely—unless I had won the lottery.”
Willow Marshall is a self-made millionaire and my brother’s new girlfriend.
A little over two months ago, she unexpectedly inherited a century-old beach house on the coast that had been vacant for years, and she recruited me to do the renovations on it in order to sell it.
Well, things got complicated when my brother tried to convince her to sell it to him since he’s wanted to buy the place since we were teenagers.
In a twist that further complicated their dynamic, it turned out that the house was actually left to Willow by our father in an attempt to make amends for the past. After a brief battle of wills, Willow and Dallas’s intense feelings toward one another blossomed into love and now she’s here to stay, which worked out well for Astrid since their friendship also blossomed, and Willow volunteered to be the bakery’s silent investor.
Brandon’s death benefit paid off their house, but on her income and less than stellar credit, she didn’t qualify for the business loan on her own.
“Doesn’t matter. Now, you have the ability to make it exactly what you want. Have you thought any more about what changes you want to make?” Willow asks, taking a sip from her martini.
Astrid’s eyes drift over to me for the first time in a while. And just like every other time our eyes meet, I wait with bated breath for what she’s going to say. “Actually, I have some ideas. And I wanted to talk to you about them.” She points at me playfully with one eye closed.
“Me?”
The corner of her mouth lifts. “Yeah. Word on the street is you’re still the resident handyman around town. Or did that change in the last day or so?”
That’s right. I’m the guy everyone calls when something needs to be fixed or built.
Penn Sheppard, the Carrington Cove handyman.
The guy who helps everyone when they need it.
I guess I took after my father in that regard. And my specialty is helping Astrid, especially since Brandon died.
“Not that I’m aware of,” I reply, watching Astrid’s shoulders fall but her lips lift up.
Willow grasps her arm. “I’m going to let you two talk. I’ll catch up with you in a bit.”
“Okay.” Astrid watches Willow walk away and then she turns back to me. “Do you want a refill?” She gestures to the nearly empty glass of beer in my hand.
“Yeah, but I can get it. Remember, you’re not a waitress anymore.”
She chuckles, tucking a strand on her long, chestnut hair behind her ear. It’s such a simple move, but it still unnerves me every time. “Old habits die hard.”
“You’ll get used to it.” I stand from my stool, round the bar, pull the tap on the lager I’ve been drinking, and fill my glass before rejoining her on the other side of the bar again. “So, what’s on your mind?”
She blows out a breath and says, “I want to do some renovations at the bakery.”
I nod, taking a big drink of my beer. “I figured.”
“I know the place is a landmark, but it’s in desperate need of a face lift. New paint, new floors, new décor, and a new display case in the front, for starters.”
“You might have to shut the doors for a few days to get that done, but if I do stuff at night we could possibly avoid it.”
She nods. “I’m aware, but I know it will be worth it. I can still fill orders for the Cove Inn and other offices around town from the kitchen, but I want a clean slate. I want a fresh start so the place feels more like mine.”
“It is yours, Astrid.”
Her smile is slow and soft but completely breathtaking. And with a crinkle in her nose, she whispers, “It is, isn’t it?”
I can’t help but smile back at her. “It is.”
“What are you two grinning about?” Dallas strides up to us, taking a sip from his own beer.
“Penn is gonna help me renovate the bakery,” Astrid answers, glancing up at him now.
“Like there’s anyone better for the job.” Dallas huffs out a laugh.
“I know, but it’s going to be a lot of work.”
Dallas leans toward Astrid. “You do realize he just renovated an entire house for Willow, right?”
“Yes, I’m aware. But I also know he’s busy…”
“I’m never too busy to help you, Astrid,” I say, cutting her off.
“I just hate to ask you for another favor…”
“It’s not a favor. I want to help,” I declare adamantly. “You know I’d do anything for you.”
She reaches over and grabs my hand, squeezing it. “Yeah, I do. I can always depend on you, Penn. You’re such a good friend and I’m so lucky to have you in my life.”
Do you see that knife she just plunged into my chest? Yeah, doesn’t feel so good.
“You’re such a good friend.”
That’s me.
Mr. Dependable.
The king of the friend zone—a place I never wanted to be but reluctantly found myself the president of after one drunken night three years ago. I was just a friend before that night. But before then, that word didn’t hold the same type of meaning.
It’s just as well though. The last thing I need is to draw attention to myself by pursuing the widow of my best friend, an issue I never would have predicted having.
Astrid was Brandon’s wife. They had been together since we were teenagers. We all grew up together and were as thick as thieves. I stood as the best man in their wedding, I’m the godfather to their kids, and I’ve been there through every milestone and crisis.
The two of them were so in love, the quintessential family that everyone strives for.
Brandon would brag about his life every chance he got, especially to me.
And I always envied the life he had with Astrid, one of the most amazing women I’ve ever known and someone I’m lucky enough to call my friend, too.
And I never thought about her otherwise until a few months before that night—the night that everything changed.
“Proud to wear the title,” I mutter, trying to hide the irritation that word evokes in me. But my brother catches it, smirking in my direction.
“Great. Well, maybe when you come over this week for game night, we can talk about it more?” She blinks a few times, tilting her head at me as she waits for me to respond.
Every week I spend one evening over at her house playing games with the kids.
Bentley is eleven now, and Lilly is seven.
It’s a tradition I started with them after Brandon died.
My entire family grew up playing board games together, and I wanted to help them have that same sense of togetherness.
After losing my dad this year, I understand the absence that creates even more now.
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Astrid!” Brian, the other manager of the restaurant, calls out to her. “Get your ass over here! We’re taking shots!”
“Ugh. I really don’t want to be hungover tomorrow,” she whispers.
“One won’t kill you,” Dallas chimes in. “After that, use the vodka bottle full of water under the bar and pour your own if they keep pressuring you to take more.” He winks at her.
Dallas learned from the previous owner to keep a dummy bottle of alcohol for those patrons that just didn’t know when to stop. Pouring them shots of water never gets old, especially when they act like it tastes bad or burns going down.
Fucking funny as hell.
Grinning, she stands from her stool and smooths down her light pink top, the one that offers the perfect sliver of her cleavage. It’s a favorite of mine. “Perfect. See you boys later.”