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This book is a work of fiction. The characters, names, incidents, places, and dialogue are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

Contents

1. Chapter One

2. Chapter Two

3. Chapter Three

4. Chapter Four

5. Chapter Five

6. Chapter Six

7. Chapter Seven

8. Chapter Eight

9. Chapter Nine

10. Chapter Ten

11. Chapter Eleven

12. Chapter Twelve

13. Chapter Thirteen

14. Chapter Fourteen

15. Chapter Fifteen

16. Chapter Sixteen

17. Chapter Seventeen

18. Chapter Eighteen

19. Epilogue

Other Books in the Coastal Kisses Series

Also by Dana LeCheminant

About the Author

Chapter One

King

It’s not every day you’re late to work because a llama got himself stuck in a pool. Except, this isn’t the first time this has happened, so that whole ‘every day’ thing is becoming more and more likely. And while the llama is perfectly fine, if a little waterlogged, I’m at the end of my rope as I storm into the bakery smelling of wet camelid. Not a good smell, if you’re curious.

“King!” Meg, the only other morning employee at the bakery, practically screams my name when I stomp into the kitchen. She’s too easily startled, especially when she refuses to stop listening to music at full blast whenever she’s in the back, and she presses a flour-covered hand to her chest as she heaves in lungfuls of air. “I tried calling you.”

I curse under my breath when I realize I left my phone at home, thanks to Prince Harry and his severe lack of self-preservation. I swear, that llama is going to do me in one of these days if he doesn’t do himself in first. “Sorry,” I mumble and peel off my wet shirt. I could have changed before leaving the house, but I’m already several weeks behind on laundry as it is, and I’m not sure I would have found a clean shirt.

I had planned to do a load last night after I got home from the surf shop, but I made the mistake of sitting down to eat my microwaved dinner. I woke this morning with a half-eaten meal on my lap and a llama making ungodly noises as he struggled to keep his head above water. Honestly, I have no idea how long he was in the pool before I jumped in to save him.

Despite his impressive ability to escape his pen, Prince Harry is not a smart animal. If he had moved to the other end of the pool, his neck would have been plenty long enough to allow easy breathing. But no, my idiot llama chose the six-foot end, which is just a few inches taller than his nose.

“You okay?” Meg asks, her voice thin.

I glance over at her, wet shirt in hand, and immediately regret my thoughtless decision to remove my shirt. She’s doing her best to keep her eyes on mine, but her gaze keeps slipping downward. Meg was honestly a godsend when she applied for the open baker position. She just graduated college and is back home in Willow Cove for the summer until she starts an internship in the fall, and she has enough rudimentary baking skills to follow a basic recipe, plus availability in the mornings. I’ve got two teenagers who handle the afternoons while I’m over at the surf shop, but it’s the morning baking where I’ve needed the most help.

The problem, though, is Meg hasn’t been shy about making her interest known. I’ve got six years on her, so we never ran in the same circles, but she seems to have decided that now that she’s firmly an adult, we’re a perfect pairing. The age difference alone is enough to keep me wary, but I haven’t done much dating during the last decade. I’m not about to change that now just because a twenty-two-year-old keeps giving me bedroom eyes.

I think if Meg knew my breakfast this morning was the rest of last night’s dinner, she wouldn’t be so keen on pushing our relationship to be more than boss and employee.