Take it from Aunt Hagatha, darling: Fake soulmates and secrets do not mix.
I came to Whispering Key to lie low for a while. A man who has secrets to keep (like, say, his identity as America’s favorite agony aunt) should really not find himself embroiled in the paparazzi scandal du jour.
The last thing I needed was another guy in my life, since that’s what got me into this mess in the first place... but then I met Beale Goodman.
He’s my polar opposite. The world’s largest, hottest, most virginal cinnamon roll. The human embodiment of goodness and light. A man whose blue eyes make me weak. A man who wouldn’t know a designer label if he tripped over one. A man who rescues feral cats, for heaven’s sake…
And a man who rescues me, too, by pretending to be my fake boyfriend–er, fake soulmate–while I’m hiding out here.
Trouble is, there’s nothing fake about the way he kisses me, or the way it feels to be wrapped in his arms at night. And it’s hard to lay low when the strange-but-lovable people on the island are determined to welcome Beale’s new man into their ranks.
It’s enough to make me realize I’ve been on the run for a while, and that this might be the first time I’ve found something I want to run to rather than from.
But only if I can keep my secrets from catching up with me.
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