Walking on Sunshine

Sweet Harmony

“Expert storytelling, heartwarming characters, and good pacing make this contemporary romance shine.”

—RT Book Reviews

“A wonderful series in a small town.”

—The Reading Cafe

“A fun, sweet, romantic read, perfect for sitting by the pool or for reading on a cool, rainy fall afternoon with a cup of cocoa.”

—That's What I'm Talking About

Wildflower Wedding

“A lovely, sweetly sexy, terrifically enjoyable read. . . . McLane's Cricket series is similar in style to Susan Wiggs's bestselling Lakeshore Chronicles.”

—Booklist

“Packed with emotion and hot, hot sex . . . a cleverly written story.”

—Fresh Fiction

“[McLane is] an amazing and unique writer.”

—Night Owl Reviews

“Sweet romance with small-town Southern charm. . . . McLane weaves together walks in the moonlight, stolen glances, and kisses under the stars with seduction and sizzling sex, populating the carefully crafted story with a cast of affable characters.”

—Publishers Weekly

“In this modern Southern romance, charming bad boy Reese and sassy Gabby's chemistry sizzles. McLane gives readers characters they'll care about as she expertly weaves a tale of love and past regrets.”

—RT Book Reviews

Moonlight Kiss

“Alluring love scenes begin with the simplicity of a kiss in this romantic Southern charmer.”

—
Publishers Weekly

“A sweet love story set in the quaint Southern town of Cricket Creek. Reid makes for a sexy hero who could melt any heart.”

—
RT Book Reviews

“McLane nails the charm, quirks, nosiness, friendliness, and sense of community you'd experience in a small Southern town as you walk the streets of Cricket Creek . . . engaging and sweet characters whose chemistry you feel right from the start.”

—That's What I'm Talking About

Whisper's Edge

“This latest foray to McLane's rural enclave has all the flavor and charm of a small town where everyone knows everyone else and doesn't mind butting in when the need arises. With a secondary romance between members of the slightly older generation,
Whisper's Edge
offers a comforting read where love does ‘trump' insecurities, grief, and best-laid plans.”

—Library Journal

“Visiting Cricket Creek, Kentucky, feels like coming home once again.”

—RT Book Reviews

“LuAnn McLane has a rich and unique voice that kept me laughing out loud as I read.”

—Romance Junkies

Pitch Perfect

“McLane packs secrets, sex, and sparks of gentle humor in an inviting picnic basket of Southern charm.”

—Ft.Myers & Southwest Florida

“A delightful . . . charming tale.”

—RT Book Reviews

“Entertaining [and] lighthearted.”

—Genre Go Round Reviews

“McLane writes a romantic, lighthearted feel-good story.”

—Romance Reviews Today

Catch of a Lifetime

“I thoroughly enjoyed this amusing tale of baseball fanatics and a quiet little town that everyone falls in love with. The residents are all amusing and interesting . . . pure entertainment!”

—Fresh Fiction

“LuAnn McLane has created a delightful small-town romance that just captivates your heart and has you rooting for these charming characters. . . . I thoroughly enjoyed this romance.”

—Night Owl Reviews

Playing for Keeps

“A fun tale.”

—Midwest Book Review

“Charming, romantic . . . this new series should be a real hit!”

—Fresh Fiction

“McLane's trademark devilish dialogue is in fine form for this series.”

—
Publishers Weekly

“No one does Southern love like LuAnn McLane!”

—The Romance Dish

C
ONTEMPORARY
R
OMANCES

Sweet Harmony: A Cricket Creek Novel

Wildflower Wedding: A Cricket Creek Novel

“Mistletoe on Main Street” in
Christmas on Main Street
anthology

Moonlight Kiss: A Cricket Creek Novel

Whisper's Edge: A Cricket Creek Novel

Pitch Perfect: A Cricket Creek Novel

Catch of a Lifetime: A Cricket Creek Novel

Playing for Keeps: A Cricket Creek Novel

He's No Prince Charming

Redneck Cinderella

A Little Less Talk and a Lot More Action

Trick My Truck but Don't Mess with My Heart

Dancing Shoes and Honky-Tonk Blues

Dark Roots and Cowboy Boots

E
ROTIC
R
OMANCES

“Hot Whisper” in
Wicked Wonderland
anthology

Driven by Desire

Love, Lust, and Pixie Dust

Hot Summer Nights

Wild Ride

Taking Care of Business

Published by the Penguin Group

Penguin Group (USA) LLC, 375 Hudson Street,

New York, New York 10014

USA | Canada | UK | Ireland | Australia | New Zealand | India | South Africa | China

penguin.com

A Penguin Random House Company

First published by Signet Eclipse, an imprint of New American Library,

a division of Penguin Group (USA) LLC

Copyright © LuAnn McLane, 2015

Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.

SIGNET ECLIPSE and logo are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) LLC.

ISBN 978-0-698-16174-0

PUBLISHER'S NOTE

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

I want to dedicate this book to my childhood pen pal, Florence Scott. Through writing letters, we forged a friendship that reached across the ocean and has lasted more than forty
years.

I would like to thank my lovely English friends in Naples, Florida. You were the inspiration for my side trip from Cricket Creek, Kentucky, to London, England. I appreciate all of the love, laughter, and support you've given me over the past few years.

Thanks again to the amazing editorial staff at New American Library. From the gorgeous covers to the details in copyediting, I couldn't ask for a better finished product. Also, thanks so much to Jessica Brock for promoting the Cricket Creek series. The reviews, blogs and tweets are the result of your hard work and enthusiasm. And a special thank-you goes out to my editor, Danielle Perez. From brainstorming ideas to tackling revisions, working with you has been a joy.

As always, I want to extend a thank-you to my agent, Jenny Bent. Your advice and knowledge are invaluable and I could not have made this journey without
you.

Risk It for the Biscuit

“R
USTY, GET BACK HERE RIGHT THIS
MINUTE!”
M
ATTIE
shouted at her brother's Irish setter, but he bolted from the kitchen with the slab of country ham dangling from his chops. “I mean it!” Mattie rushed after Rusty, knowing full well that he wasn't about to stop. Although the meat could no longer be served to her customers, Mattie felt the need to scold the naughty dog and deprive him of his prize. She also felt the need to scold her brother Mason for leaving Rusty with her again while he went fishing. Apparently Rusty, who used to be quite the docile dog while riding in Mason's bass boat, now felt the sudden urge to jump in the water without warning.

“I swear I'm never saving you a bone
ever
again!” Fuming, Mattie dodged tables and chairs while chasing Rusty around the dining room, glad that the restaurant wasn't open for breakfast just yet. For an old dog, Rusty still managed some impressive speed and agility, but this was the second ham heist this week, so Mattie was determined to catch him. Country ham and biscuits was a popular item on the breakfast menu! When Rusty headed for the big booth in the back of the dining room, Mattie threw
caution to the wind and did a half dive, half slide across the hardwood floor, hoping to snag him around his haunches and bring him to the justice he so richly deserved . . .

And came up with nothing but air.

With a groan, Mattie pounded her fists on the floor. She pictured Rusty doing a wheezy doggy laugh while munching on the salty slab of ham. “I'm gonna tell on you!” Mattie threatened with a bit more fist pounding. After another moment she started pushing up to her feet, but she looked ahead and spotted shoes. Yeah, shoes, not boots. Kinda fancy shoes at that. . . .

“Excuse me. Are you . . . are you . . . quite all right?” asked an unusual male voice that made her pause, putting her in a Pilates plank position.

Two things immediately went through Mattie's head. Number one was that the question held a measure of concern at her plight rather than the amusement that was usually dealt her way; and number two was that his accent was a distinctively clipped British one rather than a slow, Southern drawl. Mattie quickly scooted to her knees apparently just as he squatted, because suddenly they were eye to oh . . . very blue eyes. She swallowed, staring. The man was simply gorgeous.

“Um . . .” He tilted his shaggy blond head to the side. “Is something amiss?”

“No, I . . . uh . . .” What did he just ask? Her brain suddenly left the building. “Oh, a . . . ham,” she managed, and then realized it sounded as if she were clearing her throat. “H-ham. I was running after the ham.”

“You were chasing after a ham?” He shoved his fingers through his blond hair, making it stand on end.

Mattie had the urge to reach over and smooth it back into its beautiful style. There was something vaguely familiar about him that she couldn't quite place.

“So the ham ran away, did it?”

“Yes . . . well, no. It was a dog.”

“A dog named Ham? Now it makes sense.”

“What? No . . .” Mattie shook her head hard, making her ponytail swing back and forth.

“Are you quite certain you're all right?”

“Yes, why do you keep asking that?”

“Well, mainly because you
were
facedown while pounding your fists on the floor when I walked in. Cause for some concern, I'd say.”

Mattie looked down at her fists. “Oh, right, I guess I was.”

“Early in the day to be so unsettled, don't you think?” he asked gently. “Is there anything I can do? Search for the runaway ham perhaps?”

“I . . .” It was
hard to think
when he looked so cute, sounded so, well, so damn sexy. Mattie suddenly felt silly having been caught in her fit of frustration on the floor like some kind of crazy person. Should she admit that she was trying to tackle a dog? Would that be better or worse than chasing a ham? “I . . . I was having a . . . moment.”

“Ah.” He gave her a crooked grin that made a fluttery thing happen in her stomach. Must be hunger pains. “Haven't had your coffee yet? I can sympathize. You'd best serve me up a cup or I'll be joining you in your fist-pounding moment.” He stood up and then reached down to help her to her feet.

Mattie took his offered hand, finding his warm, firm grasp to be so pleasant that she felt reluctant to let go. Realizing that she was clinging to his hand, she masked her lingering hold with an introduction. “I'm Mattie Mayfield, by the way. Welcome to Breakfast, Books, and Bait . . . or BBB for short.” She then gave his hand a firm squeeze as her daddy had taught her.

“Well, thank you for the rather odd but warm welcome, Mattie Mayfield. I am duly charmed and also rather fascinated by the wide range of seemingly unrelated items you have to offer here at BBB.” He looked over to the bags of fishing bait shelved on the far wall. “Are the worms all dead, then?”

Mattie nodded. “Well, no, I mean not
dead
. Artificial, you know, plastic, mostly used for bass fishing.”

“Ah, and the fish fall for that, do they?” he asked with another boyishly cute grin.

“Oddly, yes.”

He chuckled. “It must be quite the letdown to be lured in by a silly piece of plastic instead of a tasty worm. I'd spit it out straightaway.”

Mattie had to laugh. “Yes, but there's that tiny complication called the hook.”

“Oh . . . true enough.” He winced. “Ouch. Adding insult to injury and then end up in a frying pan.”

“No, no . . .
no
.” Mattie scrunched up her nose. “You really don't want to consume anything caught in the Ohio River.” She waved a hand in the direction of the bait. “This is all mostly for catch and release, for sport and tournaments my brothers host.”

“We?”

Mattie jabbed her thumb toward the window that overlooked the dock. “My family owns Mayfield Marina,” she answered with a measure of pride. For some reason she felt it important that he think she was more accomplished than simply slinging hash and baking biscuits, not that there was anything wrong with an honest day's work. “So, what can I get for you?” she asked a bit crisply.

He looked past the bait to the rear of the shop where Mattie kept her selection of books. “I think I'll pass on the bait, but breakfast sounds lovely. And perhaps a book later.”

“Have a seat and I'll bring you a menu.”

“All right, then.”

Mattie thought he'd opt for a booth, but he followed her to the counter lined with old-fashioned round swivel stools in deep red. Mattie had been serving up breakfast for several years, and her melt-in-your-mouth biscuits were raved about, but she suddenly found herself feeling a bit nervous. “Coffee?”

“Please.”

“So, are you just passing through Cricket Creek and happened to stop down here by the marina?” Mattie asked while pouring strong coffee into a sturdy china mug. When hit with a fit of nerves, Mattie, who was usually a bit on the quiet side, tended to chatter.

He reached for a little plastic tub of cream from the dish she put in front of him. “No, actually I just bought the A-frame cabin right next door.”

“You did?” From his blue polo shirt to his fancy shoes, he didn't seem the type to settle down in Cricket Creek, but then again the little town had had quite a few unexpected people moving here over the past few years. “Wow.” Wait. There really was something familiar about him. Where had she seen him before?

“I'm sorry. I neglected to introduce myself. I'm Garret Ruleman.”

“Oh!” Mattie nearly dropped the menu she'd been about to hand to him. She had seen him all right, on the cover of tabloids at the checkout lane at the grocery story. “You are?”

“Last time I looked at my license,” he said while pouring cream into his coffee.

Feeling a bit silly by her question, Mattie decided to add a little sass. “Maybe you should check just to be sure.”

“All right, then, I'll have a look.” He reached around for his wallet, then flipped it open. “Yes, I'm still Garret Ruleman. Damn the luck,” he added with an arch of an eyebrow and a slight grin.

“So you moved to Cricket Creek to live near your father?” Rick Ruleman, famous rock star, owned My Way Records, which was located just a few miles away from the marina. It was well known that Garret and his father shared a rocky relationship, and Mattie suddenly wished she'd kept her doggone mouth shut.

“No, actually I'm back in town to rekindle my relationship with Addison Monroe.” He calmly took a sip of his coffee and peered at her over the rim of the mug.

Mattie couldn't hold back her gasp. Garret and Addison's broken engagement had been splashed all over the tabloids and was the reason Addison ended up opening up a bridal shop, of all things, in Cricket Creek. Garret looked familiar because she'd seen his face in print so many times and not usually in a flattering situation. “Addison is, um, married to Reid Greenfield, now,” Mattie informed him in a hesitant stage whisper.

“You don't say . . . well, bollocks, that throws a monkey wrench into my plans.” When his mouth twitched Mattie knew he'd been messing with her. He took another sip of coffee and then added more cream. “This stuff is going to make my hair stand on end.”

“It's already standing on end, but maybe that will offset the fact that your nose is going to grow from fibbing,” Mattie grumbled.

He reached up and touched his nose. “Wouldn't want that to happen. Actually Addison and I have mended our fences and I've met Reid. He's a great chap and Addison should thank her lucky stars that she dodged the bullet and dumped the likes of me.”

His grin suggested that he was joking, but there was something in Garret's eyes that made Mattie want to give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“So I had you going, did I?”

“That little deception wasn't one bit funny.”

“I didn't really think you'd fall for it. I was just goofing on you.”

“Goofing?”

“English slang for teasing.”

“Well, you'd think that I'd wise up, but I manage to fall for nearly everything.”
I could fall for you
zinged through her brain, but she chalked it up to a lack of coffee in her system. “I think I have
tease me
tattooed on my forehead.”

Narrowing his eyes, Garret peered at her forehead as if trying to see the tattoo. “Hmm, you do. Get that thing removed straightaway.”

“Good advice,” Mattie said, and then topped off his coffee.

“Actually I'm a studio musician and a talent scout for My Way Records.” Garret took a sip of the steaming brew. “But yes, it's good to live near my father,” he added, but Mattie thought his smile appeared forced and he started studying the menu as if there would be a pop quiz afterward.

“Do you have any questions about the menu?”

“I do, in fact.” Garret looked up at her. “What in the world is redeye gravy?”

“Gravy made with coffee and the drippings from fried country ham.” She sighed. “But unfortunately I can't offer redeye gravy or country ham on biscuits.”

“Ah . . . right, since the ham ran away with the dish and the spoon?”

Mattie nodded. “Something like that.”

“Pity, I was curious.”

“Well, I do make sausage gravy that will have you sigh with delight.”

“As it so happens, I adore sighing with delight,” Garret informed her with a slow grin that caused the butterflies in Mattie's stomach to take flight once again. “I'm sold.” It looked as if he was about to say more when his phone started playing “Hard Day's Night.” Standing up, he pulled his cell from his pocket and frowned at the screen. “Excuse me,” he said, and then answered the call. “Hello, love,” he said, making Mattie wonder if he was speaking to his girlfriend. “Ah yes, darling, I can be there by noon.”

Mattie felt an expected pang of disappointment that took her by surprise. Feeling silly, she quickly turned away and started fussing with rolling silverware in napkins. The breakfast crowd would be arriving soon and she'd best be thinking about getting ready rather than mooning over her sexy new neighbor. Besides,
let's get real,
Mattie thought to herself. Now that she knew who he was, she remembered that Garret Ruleman's bad boy reputation preceded him like his shadow. Along with
Addison Monroe, daughter of famous finance guru Melinda Monroe, Garret had been linked to various famous actresses and models. If she remembered correctly, his mother was also some kind of celebrity. Garret might have been goofing on her, as he said, but Mattie was quite certain that she was as far from being his type as a girl could possibly get. With a sigh Mattie sternly reminded herself that she was already an expert in the not-his-type field, having been ass over teacups in love with Colby Campbell since, well, ever since she could remember.

Unfortunately there were several problems with loving Colby, starting with him being Mason's best friend, which made Mattie off-limits because of some sort of hard-and-fast guy code rule. In addition, the four-year age difference between them had thrown Mattie into the annoying kid sister category while growing up. But at twenty-six she figured that gap should surely be closed! And face it, Mattie thought, she was no longer a
kid
but a grown woman, not that Colby seemed to notice. And if Mattie wanted to be honest (and she didn't), that was also where the not-his-type part came into play. Colby always had some sort of prissy, big-haired blonde, some leggy, girlie thing hanging on his arm, and Mattie was anything but a girlie-girl. Mattie usually wore her long blond hair pulled up into a ponytail or in a braid down her back and she was neither prissy nor leggy. Still, in spite of having the deck stacked against her, every time he walked in the door, Mattie's heart beat like a big bass drum.