The Widow's Guide to Second Chances (Guided to Love, Book 1)

He’s always wanted her. She doesn’t do long term. Can he convince her to take a second chance on true love?

Devon Rayne has spent five years running from memories of the firefighter husband she lost. But when her grandmother’s will demands she return to take possession of her childhood home, she has no choice but to stay the required six months. She just needs everyone to leave her alone. And the scraggly dog that’s shown up is a definite no.

Paramedic Aaron Joseph wanted Devon the minute he saw her all those years ago. So when she falls at his feet–literally–her first day back, he figures his time has come. Lucky for him, he’s got the whole town on his side, from his meddling fire chief to some cantankerous old ladies. And the dog can definitely stay.

Aaron is ready to push past all his doubts for the woman he loves. Can Devon face her fears and open her heart to love a second time?

My grandmother Gigi always said in order to succeed, you have to know your strengths. And while I wasn’t successful by pretty much anyone’s definition, I was good at travel. The rock star of road trips. Mistress of miles. President of packing and pit stops.

Planning to live out of a backpack for a month? I got you. I was capsule wardrobing before Pinterest launched. Want a list of the best gas stations on I-40? Most impressive selection of snacks on I-95? Tips on which roadside attractions in middle America are really worth it? Me. I’m your person.

Which is why it was not at all okay for my brother Rick to stand in front of me and declare that we would be driving straight home to Talladega. No pit stops. No looking for the world’s biggest balloon animal installation or anything else remotely approaching fun and adventure on my way to months of forced stillness. My skin itched at the thought of it.

“We can’t make it to Talladega in twenty-five hours.” I glared at him as we stood on opposite sides of his SUV.

My beloved Highlander had given up the ghost in Arizona, where I’d had a gig leading hikers around Antelope Canyon, and Gigi herself had died a week later. I’d already flown in and out of town for the funeral, unwilling to stay in Talladega any longer than necessary, but thanks to Gigi’s will, Rick was here to drag me back home for at least six months after years of near-constant road-tripping.

Home. It wasn’t really home. Not anymore. “It’s impossible.”

“We can if we drive straight through,” he said.

“Rick!” I gestured at the air, as if it could help. “You know how I feel about this.” I learned to drive on a road trip to Tarpon Springs, Florida; got my first period standing in the room where the Declaration of Independence was signed; and had my first crush over a boy in the other family on our walking ghost tour of Charleston, South Carolina. It was a road trip through Mississippi and Louisiana in search of the perfect tamale that made my husband and I fall in love. “This is ridiculous! If Gigi were here—”

“She’s not.” He said it softly, like he was testing how far he could push me.

I wouldn’t let his gentleness sway me. Not this time. “I know, Rick. She’s been dead for weeks. You’re also aware we’ve lost our parents, and my husband’s dead, but I’m not so fragile that I’m going to fall apart.”

He held his hands up in surrender. I wasn’t letting up. “So yes, she’s gone, and she is rolling over in her grave, she is literally churning in that coffin at the audacity of us driving straight home to Talladega. Who does that?”

He narrowed his eyes. “We do that,” he said flatly, clearly done handling me with caution. “Because we spent all day yesterday walking around.” He opened the door and got in.

I gaped at him, then opened my door to make sure he heard me. “Rick, we spent yesterday hiking Antelope Canyon. We weren’t just ‘walking around.’”

“And now we need to go home.” He gestured for me to get all the way in. His expression was firm, his jaw set in a familiar line that I could still see even underneath the salt and pepper beard he sported these days.

I made one last swing. “You do realize that this no longer qualifies as a road trip—it’s just miles and miles of road. No trip.”

“Sorry, little sis. I never said it was going to be one. Ceci needs me home. The twins—”

“Are absolute angels and should not be used as an excuse.”

“Are a lot of energy for one person to handle,” he hedged. “They’re awesome kids, but tell me the last time you hung out with a pair of three-year-olds.”

“Angels. They are angels.” I was adamant on this point, despite my brother guffawing. “They are angels and you two just don’t appreciate their…their…angel-ness.”

He kept laughing. “Sure I don’t. I also can’t wait to leave them with you while I take my wife away for a weekend. On a road trip.”

I gave him the stink-eye. “That was low.”

He grinned and adjusted his baseball cap. “Ah, man, that was better than all of last year’s dad jokes combined.” He started the ignition.

I shook my head. “How does Ceci put up with you?”