Stella’s life in the small coastal town of Monarch Bay, California feels idyllic. She’s running a pastry shop with her husband David, they have a son, and her abusive ex-husband, Robert, is out of their lives forever, in prison for trying to murder David. Then two events upend Stella’s life: David suffers traumatic brain injury in a car accident, and Robert gets an early release from prison.

The changes in both men have a profound impact on Stella. David no longer recognizes her or his family and his new abusive behavior is eerily reminiscent of Robert’s. Robert, on the other hand, has undergone intense psychotherapy during his time in prison and is ready to atone for the past. People can and do change, but can Stella risk letting Robert back into her life? As Robert and Stella grow closer, old feelings are rekindled. Can David recover enough to reclaim Stella’s heart, or will she find a new future with the man from her past? Stella will have to choose: the man who no longer loves her or the man she used to love.

This is a new author for for me. I really liked it. I can’t wait to read the other books they have written. Read this book today!

Chapter One

Stella slid the last tray of chocolate croissants into the display case, took a step back and
gazed out the front window of Patti’s Pastries. When was the last time she’d stopped to
smell the roses, to use an overly worn cliché?

Since she’d moved to Monarch Bay almost seven years ago, the weather had proved to
be even more perfect than her sister Kat had told her. Blue skies were almost a daily
occurrence on the Central Coast of California. White clouds formed undeniable pictures of
ice cream cones, frolicking dogs, and any number of recognizable entities, if one took the
time to sit (or lie down) on the beach or the grass and look at the sky. Something Stella
hadn’t done since the first year she’d moved here. Or, she should say, since she’d escaped to
Monarch Bay, which would be a more appropriate description.

But she didn’t feel like reminiscing right now. The thermometer she tacked up on the
outside wall of Patti’s Pastries read 74 degrees. How perfect was that? And here she was,
same as every other day, Monday through Sunday, seven days a week, schlepping
croissants, pies, cakes, cookies, and donuts from the bakery in the back of the building to
the front of the shop, where anyone who entered this quaint establishment could see the
artwork David and Sunny created for the people of Monarch Bay.

A bright orange and black monarch butterfly fluttered near the rose bush outside the
window, wings floating gracefully up and down as it flew from one rose to the next, yellow
pollen covering the delicate edges of its wings like shaved chocolate on the almond tort
cakes David and Sunny created each morning.
Which reminded her how many hours she’d been up and at ’em, like every day of the week.

Four or five a.m. seemed to come quicker than in the past, when she’d started
working at Patti’s Pastries. So much had happened since then. But that was for another
day of thought-gathering. She didn’t have time right now.

Their assistant, Sunny, scuttled to the front of the shop and checked the coffee
canisters. At twenty-five years old and slender, he looked more like a high school student.
His cropped, white-blond hair stuck straight up in a military-short cut, and his jeans hung
low on his hips, as was the style, especially here in California. “Full to the brim and
steaming hot.” He turned to Stella and tilted his head. “Everything all right, boss?”
Stella leaned on the top of the glass case, eyes wide. “I think this is one of the most
beautiful places I’ve ever lived.” She turned to him. “And I don’t take advantage of that
very often, you know? Neither of us, David or I. All we do is work.”

Sunny walked toward Stella and stood in front of her, blocking her view. “That could
easily be changed, boss. I can handle it here while you and David take some time off for
yourselves. David taught me all the baking I need to know. And if your daughter can sub
for you like she does when you have a doctor’s appointment or whatever, you’d be all set to
go whenever you want. Just name the date, and Loreen and I can run this place while you
and David are gone.”

Stella pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Loreen’s my accountant, Sunny.
She doesn’t have time to do both my job and her job every day. She’d never be able to
leave this place.”

Sunny smirked. “Sounds like someone I know. But, hey, boss, she got her bachelor’s
degree in accounting from San Luis Obispo College. She can do that number stuff in her
sleep. And what? We’re talking about a week, maybe two weeks, you and David would be
gone?” He shrugged. “Piece of cake.” He chuckled. “Apropos in this case.”
Stella blinked, reverting her view to the drifting clouds dotting the sky. “A week would
do. Two weeks would be pushing it.”

Sunny patted Stella’s arm. “Start small, if that’ll make you feel more comfortable.
Start planning now. Talk to Lo too. Feel her out.”

A wide smile lit up Stella’s face. “I’ll run it by David when he gets in. See what he
thinks.” She glanced at the clock on the wall behind her. “Where is he anyway? He should
have been here by now.”

“Was wondering the same thing,” Sunny murmured, wiping off a nearby table. “I’ll
finish up here and take an early lunch, if you don’t mind.”
“Fine by me. It’s always slow after the morning rush. I’m going to go in the back and
talk to Loreen. I’ll hear the bell if someone comes in.”

She lifted the apron over her head and slung it across her arm as she walked through
the swinging double doors marking the entrance to the bakery in the back. She paused in
front of a dark wooden door marked “Accountant at Work” in bright white letters. She
smiled and knocked lightly. “Loreen?”

“Come in, Mom.”

Stella entered the sunny office, the wall of windows brightening the rooms that ran
along that side of the building. “Have time to talk, Lo?”
Loreen swiveled her chair to face her mother, wide pouty lips lifting up at the edges in
an easy smile. “Wassup?”
Stella sat in the chair in front of Loreen’s desk, leaned back, hands cupping the arm
rests. “I need your opinion about something.”

Loreen reached up and adjusted the scrunchy holding her long, blonde ponytail in
place, looking much like she could be Sunny’s twin sister instead of Gabriel’s. “I’m all
ears.”

Stella recalled her ex-husband Robert ranting and raving that Stella must have had
sex with another man to have given birth to a blonde baby. Robert was classically tall,
dark, and handsome. Stella’s auburn hair, which lightly grazed her shoulders, hung free
and wavy, flattering her naturally pale skin. Robert could have had a DNA test done, so
Stella could prove he was the father. But the enjoyment he got from his emotional
hammering outweighed his need for physical proof of the fact. But again, no more walking
down that lane of broken glass. He was long gone and out of their lives forever.
“I was just talking to Sunny about how David and I… well, all we do is work. We
never take the time to play and have fun. I was thinking we might go on a short vacation.
The only way we could pull it off is if you subbed for me. Sunny would do all the baking,
and the accounting would have to be put aside for a short while. Otherwise, you’d be
working into the night, every night. I don’t want to burden either you or Sunny.” She
paused, lifting her gaze to the tree swaying in the breeze outside the window. “I want your
honest opinion about my plan.”

Loreen placed her elbows on the arms of her chair and put her hands together,
interlacing her fingers. “Totally doable, Mom. Where are you gonna go? And when?”
“Hold your horses, young lady.” Stella shook her head and chuckled. “I haven’t even
decided yet whether it’s, as you call it, doable or not. What about Charlie? You usually
pick him up every afternoon from school. You’d be too busy here to leave, working as
cashier, dealing with all the customers.”

“I can pick up my little brother from the Academy in about five minutes, bring him
here, set him up at a table with a bunch of Star Wars Legos or something. He’s easily
entertained, Mom.” She rolled her eyes. “He’s only five.”
“But what about after the bakery closes? You always walk to your Aunt Kat’s house
and visit Peter, almost every day. It’s your special time with him. I don’t want to interfere
with that either.”

Loreen swiveled back and forth in her office chair, shaking her head. “Seems to me
you’re just looking for excuses not to go. It’s only gonna be for a week, Mom. Not a
month.” She paused. “I see my son almost every day. And I can take Charlie with me.
They’re best buds anyway.”
Stella jerked her head back. “You said your son? Does he know already? Does Peter
know you’re his—”

“His mom? No, not yet. But Aunt Kat and I have been talking about that lately.
Originally we thought when Peter entered first grade, that might be a good time to
introduce the fact I’m not his auntie but his birth mom. We don’t want him to hear some
gossipy crap from one of the other kids who heard from their mothers and fathers that
Aunt Kat adopted my baby.”

“Sounds like a good idea to me, honey. A preemptive strike. Take control of the
situation before it blossoms into something you never wanted. Not that you asked my
opinion.”

Loreen tilted her head to the side. “Mom, you know damn well I value your opinion.
Above all others, for sure. As much as I love living in Monarch Bay, we all know it’s a
small town. People talk. Not in any malicious way, but kids overhear stuff. And one day

that ‘stuff’ is gonna be who Peter’s real mommy is, and Aunt Kat and I don’t want him
finding out that way.”

Stella nodded. “Exactly. No disagreement from me on that one. But…” She stared out
the window, chewing on her bottom lip. “What about Harley? Doesn’t he want to be with
you when you explain to Peter who his birth parents are?”
Loreen took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly through her lips. “He said he did. I
mean, in the beginning.”

“What’s wrong, Lo? You’re acting weird. I thought you two were on the same page
about this whole thing.”

Loreen flicked her eyes toward the ceiling, then stared at her mom. “We aren’t really
doing all that well together, you know?”

Stella’s eyebrows drew together. “No, I didn’t know. Last time we were all together
he—” Stella paused. “Actually I don’t remember the last time he came to a family dinner
at our house or Aunt Kat’s place.”

Loreen pursed her lips. “He’s not doing all that good. In my opinion at least. He
dropped out of school. Doesn’t wanna be a psychologist any more. He’s fixing motorcycles
out of his aunt and uncle’s garage, making shit for money.”

“I’m so sorry, Lo. I had no idea. So did you actually break up?”

Loreen shrugged. “Not yet, but I have a feeling it’s inevitable. I mean, Mom, he’s
going nowhere. I don’t blame him for not knowing what he wants to do with his life, but
he’s gotta pick a direction and walk down that road, and if it’s the wrong road, then pick
another road to walk down. But fixing motorcycles? Most of the time it ends up him
hangin’ with his bros and not doing much of anything but fixing their bikes for free. They
always say they’ll pay him and that he, quote unquote, knows they’re good for it. He never
gets that money. So we can’t move in together like we planned. He can’t afford the rent.”
She paused. “And I feel bad saying it, but he’s not a shining example of a dad who I want
my son to follow in his footsteps, ya know?”

“I can relate to that part, Lo.” Stella sighed. “Which is why I took you away from
your father. I didn’t want you and Gabriel to think that’s what all marriages were like.
Hitting, yelling, cursing—that’s no way to grow up, thinking that’s what marriage is all
about. That sickened me.”

“I know, Mom. And Gabe and I are forever grateful you got us out of there when you
did.”

Stella stood. “Luckily all that is water under the bridge, honey. Robert’s in jail, and
we never have to see him ever again.” She leaned over Loreen’s desk and kissed her on the
forehead. “Thank you, Lo. For telling me about Harley and also talking about your plan to
tell Peter about his birth parents. Either way, Peter will eventually want to know who his
father is. But you’ll figure that out with Harley. I’m sure of it.”
“Thanks, Mom. You know… for your faith in me.” She swiveled back to her
computer, then quickly turned around again to face her mom. “Where’s David anyway?
He’s never not here.”

Stella’s cell phone played a rap song she’d always been fond of, “Ayo,” by Chris
Brown and Tyga. She pulled the phone out of her pocket, glanced down, smiled, and
answered. “Hi, Kat.” She held the phone pressed to her ear, nodding. “What?” Her brows
squinched together. “But how…?” She dropped into the chair, frowning. “But how could
that be? David wasn’t going anywhere this morning. He…” She paused, stared at her

daughter, eyes glistening. “I forgot. He had to go to San Luis Obispo to pick up a piece of
equipment for the oven.” She stood abruptly. “I’ll head there right now. I’ll call you as
soon as I know anything.” Stella shoved the cell phone into her pocket.
Loreen rounded the desk and stood in front of her mom. “What happened? Did
something happen to David?”

Stella stared into her daughter’s eyes and it was as if she was looking at herself, albeit
a blonde version, back when she was twenty-four years old. “Kat said she was watching the
news, and there’s been a terrible accident on the 101 North. She swears it’s David’s van
lying on its side, smashed up against the concrete barrier between the two sides of the
freeway. She saw the Patti’s Pastries logo.”

Loreen grabbed her hoodie and took hold of her mom’s elbow. “Let’s go. I’m sure
they’ll take him to our hospital. It’s the closest one in the area. Just down the street. Come
on, Mom.”

Sirens blared in the distance. Loreen and Stella halted, turned toward each other.
A solitary tear slid down Stella’s cheek. “It can’t be David. It can’t.”
Loreen slid her purse onto her shoulder and headed toward the back of the bakery.
“Come on, Mom.” She clicked the remote, and a small chirp pierced the silence behind the
building. “Get in the car. I’ll tell Sunny what’s going on.”

Stella ran out the back door and bolted for Loreen’s Jeep. As she slammed the door
shut behind her, Loreen rushed out of the back of the bakery and slid into the driver’s seat.
“Please don’t let it be him,” Stella whispered.

Loreen jammed the gear shift into reverse, glanced behind her, and screeched
backward, then shifted into drive and flew out of the parking lot. “Don’t go there, Mom.
We’ll find out everything in a few minutes.”