He needs this job to honor his late wife.
She needs to complete her late fiancé’s bucket list to be free.
Former action-movie star Chet has counted the days since he lost his wife last New Year’s Eve almost a year ago. When he’s given a shot at starring in a reboot of her favorite TV show, he jumps at it. But there’s a catch: the producers won’t hire him unless he can prove he’s regained emotional stability—by bringing a steady girlfriend to his five auditions.
Which means: five mandatory dates for this bereft widower.
Social worker Holly lost her fiancé to war. With his good life snuffed out too soon, she feels compelled to finish his bucket list of unselfish deeds. But four years later, several remain, and they’re ridiculously impossible. Until she accomplishes her soldier’s dreams, she can’t even consider moving on with her life.
When they meet on the beach at Getaway Bay, what she doesn’t know is homeless-looking mourner Chet is actually Colt Winchester, screen star and fashion icon. What he doesn’t know is that he’s a means to an end.
When their walls start to crumble on their Christmas season dates, can these two find love again, or will they forever be chasing ghosts?"
The wind changed, blowing sea salt into her senses.
Rip, splutter, splutter, splutter. No catch in the engine. Rip, splutter, splutter, splutter. As she grabbed the handle of the rip cord to give it a third try, footfalls sounded on the dock nearby.
“Can I help with that?” a man’s voice called.
Holly turned around and saw the not-homeless guy standing on the dock.
He jumped off the dock and into her boat. A second later, he pressed her aside and went to the engine, yanking the rip cord.
Rip, roar, tapocka, tapocka, tapocka.
“Wow. First try.” Holly stepped over the seat to keep the boat from rocking too far to starboard.
“I do have a specialized set of skills. Even if they don’t include shore fishing.” He settled himself onto a slat in the boat. “I’m Chet. Should’ve told you earlier.”
“Holly,” she said. She met his eyes. They were greener with the sun striking them. “You change your mind, then? You want to try fishing out in the bay?”
“If I do, will you listen to a proposition I want to make to you?”
Proposition! Holly took a quick step backward, her palms facing forward at her chest. “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression. I’m not really the proposition type of girl.”
A belly laugh rose from the homeless guy’s mouth. It rolled skyward and then fell back down into Holly’s ears. It rang on for a second, and then the guy held his stomach.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing. I mean, just that you misinterpreted me. I mean, wow. I haven’t really laughed like that for a while.”
Chet was weird. Green eyes might not be enough to eclipse this level of weirdness.