Catching her was my job... Keeping her was my mission.
The day I cuffed Loxley Adams and put her in my patrol car was the day I realized that the 9 pound bass I caught last summer with Gramps was no longer my greatest catch.
It was her.
Loxley wasn’t your average small-town speeder tearing through Harmony Haven, though. She was the Southern Songstress herself—a world-famous superstar trying to avoid her seemingly glamorous life. She wanted to hide, but instead of letting her run, I took her to my place. And the rules were simple:
• No one can know about my new roommate.
• Don’t fall for her.
Too bad rule #2 didn’t last long. She may have driven me crazy, but it’s hard not to catch feelings for someone who’s wearing my t-shirts, dancing around barefoot through the house, and looking at me like I invented the guitar.
Harmony Haven may be “Where Life’s a Love Song,” but it’s not where stars like Loxley belong, and I knew the day would come when she’d be ready to run again.
The question was, would I be able to let her go?
