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chapter one

Jillian

T here were worse ways to start a Friday morning than being surrounded by the squishiest, sweetest labrador retriever puppies I’d ever seen.

“This must be what heaven is like,” I said into the camera with a laugh, trying not to tear up as I grabbed one of the puppies before she could roll off the news desk.

I held her against my chest, watching her nestle into the soft fabric of my lavender sheath dress. “I wish I could adopt them all!”

Torrance, the director of the local animal shelter, smiled as she fed another puppy a tiny treat.

“I wish you could, too. We’re beyond overrun right now.

This litter is just one of three recent abandonments.

We also found some beagle pups left in a box in an alley, but they won’t be ready for adoption for a few more weeks. ”

There was no chance of holding back my tears now.

I’d told myself I didn’t need a dog, not when I was away from home so often.

The poor thing would have to be crated all day, and I’d end up feeling so bad about its loneliness, I’d probably get a second dog.

Pet ownership was just not in the cards for me.

But that chubby black lab with her sleepy eyes and oversized paws nearly convinced me to change my mind.

I had to force myself to look up at the teleprompter, finally remembering why Torrance was here.

“But you have some big news to share, don’t you?

Do you want to tell the people of Woodvale what they can expect at the animal shelter this month? ”

“Sure!” Torrance pulled one of the more hyper puppies away from the edge of the desk. “For the remainder of June, we’re waiving all adoption fees, thanks to a generous donation from a local philanthropic couple who wish to remain anonymous.”

I had a feeling the anonymous couple was the Gardners, some friends of mine whose quiet generosity had improved Woodvale bit by bit over the past couple of years.

I was sure they’d be just as generous with their frozen margaritas on their patio tonight, which was becoming a Friday night ritual for me.

“That’s incredible,” I said. “Will these labrador puppies be available to adopt?”

“Yes, they will, even Midnight here.” She ran one hand down the back of the feisty one, who was chewing on his sister’s ear. “They’ve all had their shots, and adoption includes a voucher for our spay and neuter program. However, they’re not yet—”

She was cut off by the sound of liquid splattering against the wooden desk. Midnight, with one back leg lifted high in the air, made eye contact with me as he unashamedly urinated on the news desk, and my producer Marco’s laugh echoed from the control room.

“—house-trained,” Torrance finished, cupping her mouth with her hands. “I’m so sorry about that.”

I held up both hands to catch a roll of paper towels from a member of our production team, giggling as I wiped up the mess. “Believe it or not, that’s not the first time this has happened on-air. That’s how you know we’re live, folks,” I said, peering into the camera.

Another round of laughter erupted from the crew. Torrance and I wrapped up, and then, after a pollen report from Bernard, I closed out that morning’s broadcast with my usual sign-off. “Thanks for starting your day with me, Woodvale. I’ll be back Monday morning, but until then, enjoy your weekend!”

There was a collective exhale when the cameras shut off, and the energy in the studio immediately shifted.

It was like that every morning, but Fridays always carried an extra buzz of excitement.

The presence of puppies had everyone in high spirits, including Marco, who rushed forward to half-heartedly pet one of chocolate labs like he was trying to remain cool.

“I hope Bree’s not watching today, because she’s going to beg me to bring one of these guys home,” he said.

I leaned on the desk with a grin, scratching Midnight’s ears again.

Just as I was about to argue in Marco’s girlfriend’s favor, I caught a glimpse of a black button-up shirt in my peripheral vision.

I grinned as I took in the sight of my boyfriend, Xander, who looked out of place in this busy studio.

With his hands in the pockets of his black jeans and his eyebrows knitted together at the center, he shifted his feet to move out of the way of one of the cameramen.

“How long have you been standing over there?” I called out, smiling even bigger as I rested on my elbows.

Xander gave Marco a sideways glance as he approached. “Long enough to see you just about get pissed on.” He watched Torrance load the puppies into a crate, but his scowl didn’t fade until he looked up into my eyes. “Surprised you’re not trying to adopt them all.”

With a little chuckle, I moved my arms forward, sliding even closer to him.

The scent of his earthy body wash was always strong in the morning, and I hoped he didn’t notice the way I inhaled.

Xander and I had “officially” been a couple for less than a month, and we were still in that stage where I felt like one wrong move might scare him away.

He was impossible to read and only slightly more open than the day we met.

But I’d crack him—one of these days. “Maybe you could buy me one for my birthday,” I said.

It was hard not to notice the slight widening of his eyes. “Oh.” He shifted on his feet, glancing at Marco, who turned to walk away. “When is that… exactly?”

“Tomorrow,” I lied, just to make him squirm.

It had the intended effect, too—he cursed under his breath and ran his hand through his hair, pulling out his phone.

Before he had a chance to frantically message Meghan, my best friend and one of his fellow writers from the paper, I laughed out, “I’m just kidding.

My birthday’s not until the end of the month. ”

His panicked expression only faded a little. “That’s still not a lot of time.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something that’ll impress me,” I said, absentmindedly touching the back of my sore neck.

“Yeah…” There went his hand through that dark hair of his again. It was an honor, being one of the few people who could make Xander Pierce nervous. I enjoyed it.

With a grin, I straightened up, tapping the top of the news desk with my fingers.

“What are you doing down here, anyway?” The newspaper offices were one floor above us.

Our former CEO, the idiot that he was, had the bright idea to consolidate WWTV, the Woodvale Times , and the radio station into one media conglomerate.

Then, he shoved us all into this dilapidated old school building.

Thankfully, he got caught accepting bribes and misappropriating funds, and I was barely allowed to say his name without a lawyer present.

Silas Brown. Just thinking about that bastard sent a chill down my spine.

But that creepy feeling quickly dissipated when Graham Harlowe came around the corner, his presence commanding attention in a way it never had before he became our interim CEO.

His eyes crinkled at the corners as he held up one hand to greet Marco.

Those little lines became even more prominent when he forced out a chuckle at some asinine joke one of the cameramen hurled toward him.

Having Graham as our CEO was like a breath of fresh air after Silas, whose presence in the studio was a bit more…. ominous.

But Graham, with gray strands of hair peppering his temples and his hands permanently in his pockets, put everyone at ease.

I bit my bottom lip, barely hearing Xander’s answer to my question as Graham strolled toward the news desk.

He visited the studio every day and greeted every employee he saw, so this wasn’t a surprise.

“Hey, Graham,” I said, stealing a quick glance at his veiny forearms.

“Jill.” We exchanged smiles. “I’m, uh, thinking about moving you to the weather segment.”

I furrowed my brows at him. “I’m sorry?”

He removed one hand from his pocket to fiddle with his tie, his lips curling upward in the subtlest smile as he said, “Due to the sudden precipitation you encountered this morning.” I laughed, watching him nod a quick hello at Xander before turning back to me.

“I was just waiting for that to happen.”

“You were watching? I didn’t see you in here.”

He scratched his cheek. “I catch the broadcast from my office when I can. They gave me a TV that drops down from the ceiling and everything. Makes me feel like Tony Stark.”

Xander’s lips pressed together in a thin line as he shot Graham a sidelong glance. “Fancy,” he muttered in his usual unimpressed tone. And, turning back to me, he said, “Anyway, I came down here to tell you I probably won’t see you until tonight. Meghan’s insisting I cover the Art Walk.”

“Okay. Do you still want to ride together to the Gardners’, though?” I asked, raking my hand through my short, blonde hair. My strands just grazed the tops of my shoulders, but I’d soon be able to pull my hair up into a ponytail without half of it slipping loose.

Finally .

“Yeah. I’ll text when I’m on my way,” Xander replied, shooting an awkward glance at Graham, as though to question what he was still doing standing at the news desk with us.

Graham was preoccupied with a notification on his watch, though, and didn’t seem to notice Xander and I were having a conversation. Either that, or he was ignoring us.

Xander hesitated, glancing down at the desk like he was searching for something else to say. His hands hung casually at his sides now, but the subtle clench of his jaw hinted at his discomfort. Letting out a faint, annoyed sigh, he took a step forward.

Without a word, he leaned across the desk and pressed a quick peck to my lips—a kiss so unromantic and lacking in passion that I almost didn’t realize it had happened until it was over. It was the kind of kiss that said I don’t really want to do this right now, but I feel like I must.