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ABOUT LESLIE
Leslie North is the USA Today Bestselling pen name for a critically-acclaimed author of women's contemporary romance and fiction. The anonymity gives her the perfect opportunity to paint with her full artistic palette, especially in the romance and erotic fantasy genres.
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BLURB
Can these two lonely souls catch a lucky break in love?
Harley Von’s never been lucky in life, let alone in love. And her streak of ill fortune continues when her long-lost brother passes away just as they were on the verge of reconnecting. On the run from a bad relationship, she’s less than delighted to find herself sharing Sebastian’s fixer-upper with his gruff but gorgeous friend, Garrett. With her ex breathing down her neck and a baby on the way, Harley’s got plenty to deal with. Falling for a sexy SEAL isn’t part of her plan.
Navy SEAL Garrett Moore isn’t looking for romance. His life is the SEALs, end of discussion. Still, grieving and guilt-ridden over his teammate’s death, he’s determined to do what he can to help Sebastian’s sister. And Harley’s combination of vulnerability and determination is captivating. She’s like a skittish fawn refusing to back down from a mountain lion.
He can’t help feeling protective of her, especially when the ex shows up and gets physical. But Garrett’s only in town for as long as it takes to repair the old house.
Love has a funny way of changing things, though.
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EXCERPT
Prologue
Garrett raised his glass. “To Sebastian,” he said before downing the shot of whiskey. He knew he should say more to honor his best friend, but after giving the eulogy at that morning’s funeral, in a quiet cemetery in Sebastian’s hometown, he felt drained of words.
Their jobs were risky. As SEALs, he, Sebastian, and the other five men gathered in the back room of the Main Street Tavern accepted that they could be killed or injured in the line of duty. His gaze fell on his buddy Matthew’s hand, still in bandages as the burns and broken bones from the same mission that took Sebastian’s life continued to heal. Paying the ultimate price was always a possibility, but that didn’t stop it from hurting the ones who were left behind. Particularly the one who felt—painfully, down deep—that he should have prevented it, should have found a way to save his closest friend.
“I want to thank you all for sticking around to toast Sebastian.” Now that the funeral and the formalities were over, it was time for the SEAL tradition of gathering around to commemorate the fallen and share stories of the deceased.
“Got a memory to share?” Patrick asked. He was one of three SEALs who also called Hartsville, South Carolina, home. Patrick, Anderson, and Kenton were a few years older than Garrett and served on a different team than Garrett, Matthew, Jonathan, and Sebastian, but brothers in arms shared a common bond.
“Yeah. Hard to pick which one, to be honest.” Garrett twirled the empty shot glass between his fingers. “Sebastian and I go back almost ten years. Teammates, friends. You know the drill. But I saw another side of him when we were working on his house on Lake Hart. There’s something about taking a crowbar to old plaster walls at three in the morning that brings out a person’s true nature. Sebastian could be a dreamer, with all these pie-in-the-sky ideas for what he could do with that broken-down old wreck. I laughed at him when he first showed it to me, telling him he’d been hosed if he’d paid more than five bucks for the place, but he just shook his head and told me that he saw what it could become. Sebastian always knew how to see the potential in things, how to bring out the best—in everything and everyone.”
Because he’d do anything for his best friend, Garrett had signed on to help bring those dreams to life. As a teen, Garrett had spent his summers working for his dad, who was a contractor, so he’d volunteered to help out in exchange for a place to live between missions. He’d always have good memories of working with Sebastian on it. It put another little crack in his heart that Sebastian would never see the home complete, fully restored.
Garrett chuckled over something that happened the week before they’d left for the mission. “I kept thumping my head on the floor joists down in the basement, so Sebastian painted them fluorescent orange. Can’t miss ’em now.”
“Wouldn’t have needed to do that if you weren’t so damn tall,” Matthew teased, and the others laughed. At three inches over six feet, Garrett was on the tall side for a SEAL, which made his job a challenge at times in tight quarters. “But yeah, doesn’t surprise me that Sebastian found a way to fix it for you. He was always doing that—for all of us. He saved my ass plenty of times, and not just in the field. Years back, I bought a used Harley from a guy who was getting out of the service. I drove it around base for a few days and it seemed to run fine, so I figured it was good to go. I hopped on and headed north across the Chesapeake Bay Bridge. It was getting late, and I should have turned back, but I was enjoying the ride… right up until the bike died on a country road in the middle of nowhere, Virginia, after eleven at night. So I called Sebastian. He brought me enough gas to get back to base and followed behind me all the way to make sure I did. Turned out the gas gauge didn’t work.”
“Bet he helped you fix the bike, too,” Jonathan said.
