“It damn well better,” he whispers into my ear. A thrill shoots up my spine when his lips brush against my cheek, the subtle scratch of his scruff igniting a burned-out flame deep in the pit of my stomach. “I’ll call you later, Harp.”

With a squeeze of my arm, he takes off. I tell myself to keep my eyes trained forward, to not look over my shoulder and watch him walk away. But for the life of me, I can’t obey.

Turning just enough, I catch the strong gait in his every step, confident, without a hint of vulnerability. Head tilted down, he types something on his phone before pocketing it and making it the rest of the way down the Harbor Walk.

Inwardly I sigh as my phone vibrates in my pocket. Smiling to myself, I pull it out; Rogan’s name flashes across the screen.

Of course he’s texting me.

Rogan: Deny it all you want, but I know you were just checking me out as I was walking away. I’d be doing the same thing to you. Have a good day, Harp.

I’m in trouble. I can feel it in my bones. He’s way more smooth, more alpha, more consuming than ever before, which is going to make it that much harder to keep myself from falling too fast.

“Did Mr. Knightly take off?” Sally asks quietly, coming up next to me.

I quickly pocket my phone so she doesn’t think I’m not paying attention to the scene unfolding in front of us. “He did. He said he has a meeting, just stopped in to make sure the tenants were able to vacate.”

A knowing smile passes over Sally’s lips as she gives me a once-over. “I think he came over for more than just that.”

Heat blazes through my cheeks.

“It’s sweet, the way he looks at you, as if you’re the only woman he’s ever wanted. Is there history with you two?”

“You could say that.” I sigh; there’s no use in hiding it. If she sticks around long enough, she’ll hear all about it from the gossip train. “Rogan and I have a long history.”

“Does it have to do with the broken-love curse?” Sally asks, hope in her voice.

I chuckle. “Town gossip got to you already, huh?”

“I’m sorry, but it’s just so fascinating. Four brothers get cursed in New Orleans . . . it’s like a Lovemark movie waiting to be made.”

“Honestly, I feel like our love story could easily be a Lovemark movie.”

“Really?” Sally asks. “Do tell.”

“It checks all the boxes. High school sweethearts, small-town romance with quirky side characters, a bit of a mystery, with a whole lot of heartache. Oh, and don’t forget a classic second-chance romance. Maybe a little enemies to lovers snuck in there.”

Sally chuckles. “Well, you’ve done your research, haven’t you?”

“No research required. I’ve been watching Lovemark movies for as long as I can remember. I just never expected my life to become one.”

Sally leans in. “It happens to the best of us, but that’s what makes the journey so exciting, right? Life would be boring without the twists and turns you find in a Lovemark movie. Enjoy the ride, Harper; finding your soul mate is worth it.” She gives my arm a small pat and then walks over to Elizabeth, who’s hovering over a little TV screen.

Enjoy the ride.

Easy to say when it’s not your heart taking the plunge, though I have to give her credit. The ride might very well be worth it.

“Harper, can I speak with you for a second?” Carl whispers, gesturing to me.

“Sure thing.” I set down my clipboard and walk over to where he’s sitting in a director’s chair, bent over a tablet. “What can I help you with?”

“You lived in Vermont, right?”

“Yes, and I’ve explored basically the whole state, not that it’s very big.”

Tapping on his tablet, he finally looks up at me, worry etched in his eyes. “We’re looking at filming locations up there for our next movie, and for the life of me I can’t seem to find a good farm near Burlington—nothing that fits our needs. Would you happen to know of any farms? I know it’s a random question, but I thought I would ask.”

“You came to the right person.” I smile. I’ve spent some time in the countryside. “What kind of place are you looking for?”

“White farmhouse with a wraparound porch, old barn, white picket fence, horses . . . you know, the Lovemark works.”

I chuckle. “I know exactly what you’re talking about. Okay, let’s see . . . there’s an apple farm south of Burlington that’s beyond picturesque and borders Lake Champlain. The farmhouse is on the larger size, but the grounds and the barn are spectacular. I spent a few weekends there just soaking up the grounds. Love it there.”

“Sounds perfect. Does it have a name?”

“Yup, Hallbrook Farm. They have a website, and I believe they’ve had a filming crew there before, so they should be open to having you on their property.”

Carl pumps his fist at his side and starts typing away on his tablet again, pulling up the website. “You’re a lifesaver, Harper. Thank you so much.”

“Of course,” I answer, a smile on my face.

I helped.

When was the last time I actually felt like I helped someone, other than pointing them toward the next tour boat? I glance around. Smiles on the crews’ faces, a few locals milling about, watching as the actors tell a story. This is fun, new, and exciting. Not what I thought I would be doing as a career, but it’s breathing life into my lungs, and for the first time, I’m doing it all on my own.

“What are you going to wear?” Eve asks as she leans against the bar top. “Are you going sexy? You know, showing him what he’s been missing, or are you going ultraconservative, making him work to peel the turtleneck off you?”

I swirl the straw in my Diet Coke, hunched over the bar after a really long day on set. Let’s just say I didn’t wear the right shoes, and now my feet are killing me. It was my second day on the job, so you’d think I would have learned, but nope, I wanted to dress to impress, which meant a pair of black trousers, a wool coat, and a beautiful pair of high-heeled boots.

You can see where I went wrong.

Tomorrow, though, I’m going to change things up, show up on set like the rest of the crew in a pair of jeans and a puffy vest. They have the right idea.

I just need to find a puffy vest.

“Do you have one of those puffy vests? You know, that people wear all the time and don’t really make sense to me. Why wear a vest in the winter? Don’t your arms get cold? What’s the point?”

“You’re going to wear a vest on your date? That’s . . . new, but it could work, you know, like, Check out my arms, but you can’t see the goods.”

“Not for my date.” I giggle. “For work. Everyone seems to be wearing them, but I don’t understand why.”

“Ahh, it’s because a puffy vest is very functional for the working person who needs to stay warm.” She holds her arms out to the side. “You see, with your arms free from a baggy sweatshirt, you’re able to fully function, but the vest around your midsection keeps you extra toasty.”

“I guess that makes sense. Warmth without restriction.”

“Exactly. And yes, I do have a puffy vest you can borrow. It’s purple.”

“I don’t care what color it is, as long as it keeps me warm on set.”

An order comes into the bar, and Eve gets to work, pulling out a shaker and some vodka. “Now that the puffy-vest situation is settled, are you going to tell me what you plan on wearing on your date?”

“Yeah, what are you going to wear?”

Startled, I spin around on my stool to find Rogan standing behind me, Reid at his side. Both have their hands in their jeans pockets, both looking beyond handsome.

“You have to stop scaring me like that. I’m bound to whack you in the nuts one of these days.”

He wraps his arm around my shoulders and gives me a good squeeze, placing a kiss on my head. “Good to see you too, Harp.”

Reid takes a seat at the bar and holds up his fingers. “Barkeep, two fingers of your finest whiskey, and when I say two fingers, I mean five.”

“Do you really think I’m going to give you five for the price of two? Get real, Knightly.”

“Hey, I’ll be reasonable.” He holds his hand up. “I’ll take two fingers for the price of free.”

“Jesus,” Rogan groans. “Give him whatever and I’ll pay for it.”

Reid elbows me, grinning. “Works like a charm every time.”

Some people never change.

Ignoring his brother, Rogan tugs on my hand. “So what were you planning on wearing?”

“Like I’m going to tell you,” I scoff and take a sip of my drink. “You’ll be lucky if I don’t show up wearing a chastity belt.”

“Oh, that’s sexy. I would wear that,” Reid says. “Actually, Rogan once told me he really likes when women wear lots of layers. Like pants upon pants upon pants.” Reid stacks his hands on top of each other to illustrate. “Layer them up. The harder to see your figure, the better. He likes to leave everything to the imagination.”

“You haven’t changed one bit, have you, Reid?”

“Nope.” He takes his drink from Eve.

“That’s why he’s still single,” Eve says.

After one long gulp, Reid says, “No, I’m still single because we’re cursed. Isn’t that right, bro?”

“Can you not right now? Why did you even come along?”