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Happy Monday, First name / VIP Reader!

 

Tomorrow signals the end of an era for me. It's release day for The Soulmate Project—the final book in my Holly Grove Island series, which launched in 2020 with Second Chance on Cypress Lane. Ending the adventures of this close-knit group of friends and family, for now, is bittersweet. However, I have some ideas for Blaze, Izzy, and Kassie. So you never know when you might see their stories pop up in a continuation of the series. Definitely stay tuned. ;-) In the meantime, I'm sharing the first chapter of The Soulmate Project at the end of this newsletter.

 

If you're new to the Holly Grove Island series, set in a small, fictional, island town in the North Carolina Outer Banks, here's the reading order of the series:

The Soulmate Project goes on sale everywhere tomorrow. But you can still preorder your copy by clicking the button below.

 

Emerie Roberts is tired of waiting for her best friend Nick to finally notice her. When she confesses her feelings at the town’s annual New Year’s Eve bonfire, Nick doesn’t feel the same. Em is devastated. She’s ready to settle down and start the next phase of her life. If Nick isn’t her soulmate, she resolves to stop pining for him and find the man who is. Em hatches a seven-step plan to meet her love match and enlists the support of her family and friends. So why does Nick seem hellbent on sabotaging her efforts?

 

Em is the most important person in Nicholas Washington’s life. She’s funny, compassionate, generous, athletic—and beautiful. Of course, he’s attracted to her. But he learned the hard way that getting involved romantically is the quickest way to destroy a friendship. Nick promised to help Em find her soulmate. But he might’ve made the biggest mistake of his life. Because helping Em find the man who will steal her heart is breaking his. 

 

Will he realize that love is worth the risk before she ends up with Mr. Wrong?

Emerie Roberts sank onto her beach blanket at Holly Grove Island’s annual New Year’s Eve bonfire. The flames licked high, waving in the gentle breeze and casting their orange glow over the native islanders and a smattering of tourists gathered around the fire.

 

“What’s with the face, sugar plum?” Sinclair Buchanan nudged Em’s shoulder. Sin’s East Carolina accent got a bit twangier with each celebratory drink. “You look like someone done kidnapped your dog and stole your man.”  

 

Em didn’t have either, but she got the point of Sin’s colorful statement.

 

The New Year’s Eve Bonfire had always been the highlight of her year, but tonight, she couldn’t muster her usual enthusiasm.

 

“I’m fine.” Emerie forced a smile, hoping to dispel the growing concern on Sinclair’s face. Her gaze drifted toward where her longtime best friend, Nicholas Washington, was chatting up some tourist.

 

Nick was an exec at the local resort and a talented drummer. He was smart, handsome, and Holly Grove Island’s resident playboy. He seemed to have eyes for every pretty, single girl who’d graced the island—except for her. To Nick, she would always be one of the guys.

 

“So this is about our discussion on Christmas Eve.” Sin lowered her voice, her gaze following Em’s. “You still haven’t told Nick how you really feel about him?”

 

“Shh!” Em hushed her friend, glancing around to see if anyone might’ve overheard.

 

“I’ll take that as a no.” Sin heaved a sigh. “You said you were going to talk to him.”

 

“I said I’d think about talking to him,” Em reminded her. “And for the past week, I haven’t been able to think of much else.”

 

“Listen here, Emerie Roberts . . .” Sin burrowed her red plastic cup in the sand, then held Em’s hands in hers. “You are so sweet and kind. You go out of your way to take care of the people you love: family, friends, neighbors. I admire that about you, Em. But it’s time you do something for yourself. So think about this and answer honestly . . . what is it that you want, sweet pea?”

 

The sting of tears pricking Em’s eyes came on suddenly. She swallowed hard, refusing to let them fall.

 

She was the last unmarried member of her high school friend group. Something Em had become increasingly aware of with each engagement party, wedding, baby shower, and christening.

 

Em leveled her gaze with Sin’s— who patiently awaited her response. She held up the other woman’s hand, her engagement ring sparkling in the moonlight.

 

“I want what you and Rett have.” Em nodded toward her cousin, who was Sin’s fiancé. “And what Dex and Dakota have.” She indicated her oldest brother and his wife, who was Sin’s best friend. It was something she’d been afraid to admit, even to herself. But a part of her was glad she had Sin to confide in. Sinclair wasn’t just a friend. Em regarded her and Dakota as older sisters. “I’m the only person on this island who isn’t moving forward with their life. I’m stuck in this holding pattern, spinning my wheels.”

 

“That isn’t true.” Sin squeezed Em’s hand, her voice filled with compassion. “You’ve come a long way, too. You made a major career change and started your own business. And your clientele is growing.”

 

“True.” Em had worked in accounting at a factory off island where she’d dreaded every single minute of her day inside her windowless office. Two years ago, she’d started picking up freelance graphic design jobs— utilizing the discipline she’d minored in and truly had a passion for. Six months ago, the business had grown enough that she’d quit her job and become a full- time entrepreneur.

 

“You took a calculated risk with your career. And you’re much happier now because you had the courage to go after what you wanted.”

 

“True,” Em said again.

 

Her brows furrowed as Nick flashed the effortless smile that no single woman in his orbit could seem to resist. Miss Ohio or Michigan, or wherever it was he’d said she was from, giggled and tossed her blond box braids over one shoulder.

 

“So tell Nick how you feel about him,” Sin urged. “Yes, the conversation will be uncomfortable. And I understand that the possibility of things changing between you two is probably terrifying. But bottling up your feelings for Nick isn’t healthy, hon.”

 

“What if I tell Nick, and he doesn’t feel the way I do?”

 

She’d posed the same question to Sin a week ago. Unsurprisingly, Sin’s response hadn’t changed.

 

“Then at least you’ll know, and you can move on. Besides, as my granny always said, ‘Closed mouths don’t get fed.’ So put on your big girl panties and tell that man how you feel. Now. Or you will always regret not doing it.”

 

Em inhaled deeply. Sin was right. What if Miss Midwest was the woman who finally persuaded Nick Washington to settle down? She would be devastated that she hadn’t been brave enough to shoot her shot.

 

“I can’t win if I’m not in the race, right?” Em mumbled more to herself than Sin.

 

“Damn straight.” Sin raised her red cup, then took a sip.

 

“Okay. I’ll talk to Nick. Tonight.”

 

“Thattagirl!” Sinclair hugged her tight.

 

Em leaned into it, needing the reassurance.

 

“Everything okay?” Rett ambled over.

 

Her cousin was cool and laid-back. The perfect complement to Sin’s fiery, high- energy personality. One of the many reasons they were so perfect for each other.

 

“Everything is fine. Em and I were just having a little girl talk.” Sin extended her free hand. “Help a girl up?”

 

Rett pulled Sin to her feet and into his arms. She rewarded him with a tender kiss.

 

“I love you two, but you’re annoyingly adorable,” Em grumbled, and they both laughed.

 

“Sorry?” Rett shrugged.

 

“You’re blocking my view of the bonfire with your PDA; go enjoy your soon‑to‑be‑wedded bliss on your own beach blanket,” Em teased.

 

Rett grinned. “Love you, kid.”

 

“Love you, too, cuz.” Em grinned as they walked away, hand in hand.

 

Rett and Sin had been mortal enemies with secret crushes on each other back when their best friends— Dexter and Dakota— had dated in high school. While helping to plan the couple’s wedding earlier that year, they’d gotten to truly know each other, and they’d fallen in love.

 

Em was at the Christmas Eve party last week when Rett proposed to Sin and gifted her with a fur baby— an adorable black- and- white Havapoo puppy named Stella. She was happy for them. Still, she couldn’t help wishing that her happy ending was at least on the horizon.

 

Em folded her arms and placed them atop her knees as she stared into the bonfire, replaying her conversation with Sinclair.

 

 

 

But moving on seemed more frightening than holding on to her unrequited feelings for Nick— an agony to which she’d become accustomed.

 

“Hey, Em, what’s wrong?” Nick settled onto the blanket beside her; his dark eyes narrowing with concern. He draped an arm over her shoulders, as he had so many times before, oblivious to his effect on her.

 

Her temperature rose as the warmth of his skin penetrated hers through their light jackets. Her heart beat faster as she inhaled Nick’s familiar, subtle citrus and cedarwood scent. His wide shoulders and broad chest shielded Em from the chilly breeze blowing off the Atlantic Ocean.

 

“You’re not yourself tonight. You’re usually hoisting the cornhole trophy by now, but I haven’t seen you pick up a beanbag once. You weren’t even into the sing-along, which you love. And I’m pretty sure you’ve only had one plate tonight, so something is definitely wrong.”

 

“Who are you, my mother?” Em groused, her eyes squeezing shut involuntarily as she settled against her best friend, her skin on fire and her pulse racing. “Maybe I’m just tired. Did you consider that?”

 

Em opened her eyes, turning to look at him.  

 

Big mistake.

 

Bathed in the soft moonlight and the glow of the raging fire, the man looked like a freaking god with his cocoa brown skin; soulful, dark eyes that managed to be both warm and mysterious; and a half smile that always hinted at mischief or some tightly held secret. All he lacked was a thunderbolt or maybe the Tesseract, if Zeus and Loki weren’t using them.

 

“C’mon, Em.” Nick’s dark eyes glinted. His voice was a low, sensual whisper that sent a shiver down her spine and created a shudder in a place she was trying really hard not to think about right now. “I know when something’s up with you. Might as well spill it because you know I’ll figure it out.”

 

True.

 

From their meeting as kids, he seemed to understand her in a way no one else did. Even when she’d been reluctant to express how she was feeling about something, Nick had always been so perceptive. He’d been there through everything from mean girls teasing her because she was a tomboy to her first crush and every relationship that had crashed and burned since. He’d been there through the rough patches in her parents’ marriage and their eventual

divorce.

 

So how was it that Nick managed to know her so well, yet seemed clueless about her falling for him?

 

She’d realized that she was attracted to her best friend during their vacation together in Mexico five years ago. But she’d moved back to Holly Grove Island, and he’d lived in Los Angeles at the time. It had seemed best to ignore her perplexing new feelings for Nick.

 

But they were now in their thirties, living in the same city for the first time since college. They spent most of their free time hanging out together. So it was getting harder to ignore the romantic feelings she’d developed for her childhood friend.

 

Nothing about Nick’s demeanor suggested he felt the same.

 

“C’mon, Em. Whatever it is . . . you can tell me.” Nick leaned in, his face inches from hers. His warm breath, carrying a hint of whiskey and some sort of pie, mingled with the cool, crisp sea air, creating steam. “If someone upset you, point him out. You know I’ve got you.”

 

A pained smile curved Emerie’s lips. She and Nick had met when Dexter and Dakota brought them along on their date to see an animated children’s film. She was Dex’s little sister. Nick was Dakota’s next- door neighbor, whom she looked after when his parents were away on business. They became friends instantly, and despite already having three older brothers, Nick assumed the role of her protector.

 

They’d attended college on opposite coasts. Yet, Nick had been ready to hop on a plane or drive across the country anytime she needed him. She was a grown woman fully capable of taking care of herself. Yet, Nick’s sense of protectiveness hadn’t waned.

 

“It’s not like that.” Em stared into the fire. “So don’t go breaking out the boxing gloves, Baby Creed.”

 

“But it is something.” Nick didn’t address the Creed movie reference, which he always found irritating.

 

Was it her fault Nick looked like Michael B. Jordan’s long- lost cousin?

 

“So what’s going on with you tonight? The bonfire is your favorite event of the year.”

 

Em drew in a deep breath, her eyes squeezing shut. Her heart pounded as Sin’s words echoed in her head.

 

 

“No one has done anything to upset me, Nick.” Em wrapped her arms around her knees. “It’s just . . .” The sound of rushing blood filled her ears, dampening the sound of the swirling wind and the waves crashing against the shore of Holly Grove Island Beach. “I like someone, and I’m not sure how they feel about me.”

 

“You’re wondering if you should say something first.” Nick rubbed his whiskered chin and nodded knowingly.

 

“Something like that.” Em waved and smiled at Marcus and Elliot: two locals heading back inside Blaze of Glory.

 

“But it’s neither of those guys, right?” Nick tipped his chin by way of greeting but didn’t smile at either of them. “Because Marcus is a dick and Elliot is a mama’s boy.”

 

“You’re terrible, Nick.”

 

He’d always been able to make her laugh when she was uneasy about something. From a bad case of nerves before the fifth- grade spelling bee to a near- meltdown before a big client presentation two weeks ago, Nick could always get her to relax and reset.

 

“Maybe, but I didn’t hear you say I was wrong about them.” Nick stretched out on Em’s blanket. “So please tell me it’s neither of those knuckleheads.”

 

“It isn’t.”

 

“Okay. But it is someone.” Nick propped himself up on the blanket as he glanced up at her. “Is it Derrick? Or Paul down at the garage? Wait . . .” He bolted upright and frowned. “You realize Blaze is way too old for you, right?”

 

“No, he isn’t. He’s like forty- five.”

 

“And you’re thirty- one,” Nick noted. “Don’t get me wrong, Blaze is a great guy. He’d give you the shirt off his back. But—”

 

“It’s not Blaze or Derrick or Paul, all right?” Em huffed. She turned to face her friend, her heart thudding in her chest and her hands trembling. “It’s you, all right?”

 

“Me?” Nick’s eyes went wide, and he poked a thumb to his chest as he whispered the word. He stared at her as if he was awaiting the punchline of a poorly delivered joke. When she didn’t respond, Nick rubbed his forehead and cleared his throat. “Oh.”

 

 

This confession of love was an absolute disaster. She should say something, but she wasn’t quite sure what. It was too early to claim it’d been an April Fools’ joke. The few torturous seconds in which neither of them spoke felt like millennia. Heat spread through Em’s chest and filled her cheeks. Her breathing was quick and shallow.

 

Was this what a panic attack was like?

 

It felt like a whale had washed ashore and rolled onto her chest. She focused on the sounds of the waves hitting the shore, the laughter of their friends and neighbors, and the crackling of the fire as it consumed the wood.

 

She’d finally admitted her feelings for Nick. There was no turning back. She’d been surprised by her initial attraction to her best friend. Maybe Nick needed to sort through his feelings for her, too.

 

“Yes, you, Nick.” Emerie forced her eyes to meet his and struggled to keep her lips from quivering and her hands from shaking. “You really haven’t ever thought of me that way?”

 

Nick winced, his brows furrowing.

 

Em knew her friend well, too. The apology in his expression was a clear negative response. Her stomach twisted in knots, and her cheeks stung with embarrassment.

 

“Em, you’re my best friend. You know how much you mean to me. That I would do anything for you. But . . .”

 

“But you’re not into me like that.” Em whispered the words beneath her breath, saying them more to herself than to him. She swallowed hard and nodded. “I get it.”

 

“You’re beautiful, fun, amazing. Any guy would be lucky to have you, Em.” Nick squeezed her arm.

 

“Any guy but you, right?” Em blinked back the tears that burned her eyes. She sniffled. “Roger that.”

 

“There are a lot of things I do well, Em. Being in a serious relationship isn’t one of them. The friendship we have . . . We can’t risk losing that. I can’t risk losing you.”

 

Nick pointed at himself, then at her. “You’re the smart, sensible one, Em. So deep down, you know what I’m saying is true.” He nudged her shoulder.

 

The temperature seemed at least ten degrees colder. Em shivered in response to the sudden chill deep in her bones.

 

 

“You’re right. Of course.” She forced a smile. “It was the alcohol talking. Let’s just pretend this conversation never happened.”

 

“That’s probably best,” Nick agreed.

 

His phone vibrated, as it so often did with text messages or phone calls. It seemed like the perfect cue for her to take her leave. Em climbed to her feet and dusted the sand off the back of her jeans. “I’m gonna head inside, chat up Blaze, and get another drink. Can I get you anything?”

 

“I’m good. Thanks,” Nick said.

 

Em headed toward Blaze of Glory, eager to end the painfully awkward conversation that would forever make things weird between them.

 

“Em!”

 

She stopped, then turned around.

 

Nick was standing. His handsome features were marred with worry. “We’re good, right?”

 

“That whole weird, awkward conversation never really happened, right?” Em shrugged. “So why wouldn’t we be?”

 

“Right.” Nick tilted his head. “And you won’t do anything. . . impulsive tonight?”

 

“A sensible girl like me?” Em asked incredulously.

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. You should go find Miss Ohio. I’m pretty sure she’s looking for you.”

 

Em hurried toward the bar. She needed a strong drink, the comfort of sinfully decadent carbs, and to forget what had just happened between her and Nick.

 

Why on earth had she listened to Sinclair?