I press my palms to my eyes, trying to rid the sleep from them. “How did you possibly guess?”

“Oh, I don’t know . . . you just have that Knightly hungover look.”

I sigh and rest my head on the bar, my hand the only thing between my cheek and the wood surface. “He was there.”

“I could have told you that. Come on, Jen wants nothing more than for you and Rogan to be together again. Remember she cried for a week when you broke up? She took it almost as hard as you.”

“I know, but I didn’t think she was going to try to bring us together the first night. She told me to my face that he wasn’t going to be there.” I raise my head from the bar and sit back in my chair. “I don’t know why I believed her.”

“Me neither. She’s a sly one.” Eve serves up some mimosas and sets them to the side for the servers. “So what did he say to you?”

She places a cup of coffee in front of me, and I let it scald my tongue as I take a big gulp. Wincing, I say, “Not much. He tried to run away once he realized who I was. I think the only reason he said anything to me was because his mom called him over.”

“Ahh, and you know those Knightly boys; they never want to disappoint their mama. So what did he say? Did he give you that Rogan rake-over, make your toes curl and your nipples pucker all at the same time?”

“No idea. I could barely look him in the eye.” I press my hand to my forehead. “God, Eve, it was so embarrassing and uncomfortable. He clearly wasn’t happy I was there, and then when I told him I was going to be here for a while—”

“Uh . . . be here for a while, as in, you told him you moved back?”

“I didn’t want to give the man a coronary at his brother’s girlfriend’s birthday party. He’ll find out sooner or later, but I couldn’t muster up the courage to tell him.”

“Well, it’s not like he owns the town. You’re allowed to live here too.”

“You do realize he owns like half the houses here? So yeah, he does own the town.”

Eve waves her hand at me. “Pfft, technicality. So how did you leave it?”

“Stupidly. I told him I was going to leave because technically I didn’t belong there, and then he told me I could still hang out with his family if I wanted to.” A sarcastic laugh pops out of me. “Yeah, like that’s going to happen. The only reason I went last night was because Jen practically told me she was going to come to the lighthouse and drag me to the party and I didn’t want to make a scene, especially not in front of my dad.”

“He still doesn’t know about Rogan and how he broke things off?”

I shake my head. “I didn’t have the heart to tell him. He just loves Rogan so much; I don’t want to taint their relationship. Though Rogan has kept his distance anyway. Ugh.” I slouch against the bar counter again. “Small towns suck.”

“No,” Eve counters. “Small towns that contain your ex-fiancé suck. It also doesn’t help that he gets sexier with every year that passes.”

“Yeah, thanks for the reminder.” I run my fingers through my hair, remembering the devilish smirk I caught last night, the same smirk that quickly stole my heart.

Of course Rogan Knightly would be even hotter than before, because that’s what happens with the Knightlys—they all carry this gene that makes it impossible for any of them to be unattractive. Nope, Rogan Knightly took my breath away last night, just like he used to every time he pressed his lips against mine.

In a gray sweater that clung tightly to his thick chest and wide shoulders, and jeans that adhered to his powerful thighs, he stood there like the teenager I used to know, the one who would protect me from anything. His rich brown hair curled out from his beanie, and those blue eyes begged me to look at him. But I couldn’t. I know what those eyes can do, the kind of happiness and heartbreak they bestowed upon me.

“So what are you going to do?” Eve asks just as the chef yells, “Order up,” and plops a plate in the window, which she retrieves and places in front of me.

I poke the yolks of my eggs, watching them float around my plate and ooze into my hash browns. “What do you mean, what am I going to do?”

“Are you not going to drive him crazy?”

“Didn’t plan on it. I was going to help you and my dad out until the tourist season starts up again, then start giving guided tours up and down the Port Snow coast.” Not my dream plan, but hell, it’s something.

“Oh, come on.” Eve presses her hands against the bar counter. “If you’re going to live in the same town as your ex-fiancé, then you might as well take advantage of it. Make him go nuts. Make him regret the very moment he let you out of his sight. Look at you: you’re twenty-eight, gorgeous, and single.”

“And freshly out of a horrible relationship. The last thing I want to do is try to entice Rogan Knightly, the man who dumped me like I never mattered to him.”

“You know that’s not the truth. He was in a bad place. He drove everyone away.”

Why is she defending him?

“And I’m the one person he should have leaned on. No.” I shake my head. “I’m not going to engage with him.”

“Who said anything about engaging with him?” Eve plasters an evil grin on her face. “I’m just talking about frequenting his usual spots, looking sexy as hell, reminding him what a dumbass he is for ever letting you go.”

My fork reaches my mouth, bearing a cluster of hash browns and eggs ready to be consumed. “Are you saying I should torture the man?” She smiles brightly, and I put my fork down. “I think he’s tortured enough, Eve. He doesn’t need me adding to his misery.”

Eve chuckles and then taps her finger on her chin. “Remember when I sent you that newspaper clipping years ago? The one about the curse?”

Oh my God.

I can still remember the night I called Eve after getting her little letter in the mail. I was living in Boston and had just started giving small whale-watching tours off the Cape. It had been a rough day out at sea. I’d just gotten back to my apartment and was busy nursing a tea when the mail was pushed through the slot in my door.

The Knightly boys were cursed. At least that’s what the town gossip was, thanks to Brig’s loud mouth.

KNIGHTLY BOYS: CURSED WITH BROKEN LOVE

According to the article and Eve’s scribbled note, all four of them were down in New Orleans, celebrating Brig’s twenty-first birthday, when they stumbled over a witch of some sort who cast a broken-love curse on them. According to town gossip, they’re cursed with doomed relationships . . . I guess I could possibly attest to that, but really, a witch? A curse? Come on.

“What about it?”

“Maybe the little town fable is true, maybe the Knightlys really are cursed, and having you back in town is like a cold, hard reminder to Rogan that he’s been dealt a dose of broken love.”

I scoff and push my eggs around on my plate. “Please, that stuff isn’t real.”

“But don’t you see it, Harper? You’re the reason he’s so miserable. You’re the reason he has broken love, why he’s never moved on. He knows he let a good thing go.”

I continue to push my eggs around, staring down at my plate. “If he really thought he let a good thing go, he would have come back years ago instead of starting a new life in the town where we grew up . . . without me.”

“What do you think about going down to the diner for lunch today? I heard the patty melt is today’s special,” my dad says as he soaps up one of the panes that look out over the vast gray stretch of the Atlantic Ocean.

Once a day my dad climbs the steep lighthouse stairs, soap and water bucket in hand, to clean the lantern’s panes on the inside and out. I offered to help him when I saw him carrying everything up by himself. I know he’s physically fit and one of the healthiest guys in town, but there’s something about seeing your fifty-year-old father climbing stairs, arms full, that makes you want to jump to your feet and give him a hand.

“I don’t know . . . I’m not sure I’m ready to head down to the diner just yet.”

“You went to that party last night,” he points out, confusion in his voice.

I wipe off the squeegee with a towel and carefully set it against the pane again, dragging down, being careful not to snag the chipping paint. The lighthouse, though beautiful with its plaster tower and black-and-white accents, is very old. “Yeah, that was a mistake. I should have stayed home.”

“Why was it a mistake? I thought you went to Griffin’s house. Was Rogan there?”

I tread carefully, knowing my dad still cares for the boy who stole my heart. “Yeah, he was. It just felt weird, you know? I think it’s going to take time to feel at home here.”

“I can understand that.” Silent for a moment, he wrings his towel in the soapy water and then gives the pane one more wipe-down. “Are you going to tell me what happened? Why you’re back here? I really thought you and Brandon were going to get engaged soon.”