Page 1 of Love Songs

Fighting fires is his passion, but he’s no match for the rock star who sets his heart ablaze.

Conor Holliston has everything he needs in life: a supportive family, three lifelong best friends, a rewarding job as a firefighter, and a love of adventure. What he doesn’t need is some big-time rock star with electric blue eyes and a breath-catching smile coming to his quaint New Hampshire town and flipping it on its side.

Dallas Blade thought he had everything in life: an amazing career fronting an internationally renowned rock band, traveling all over the world, meeting thousands of fans, and no two days the same. Until fate took a sharp turn, and he discovered he had a teenage daughter who needed him and a career at a crossroads.

Fire brings Conor and Dallas together, but are the embers hot enough to keep burning when their worlds are as different as night and day?

Love Songs features a carefree firefighter suffering from pesky feelings for a rock star who’d suddenly become a single dad, lifelong best friends, a charming small town where everyoneknows everyone’s business, and the best chocolate truffles known to humankind.

FINGERS SNAPPED INfront of my face, and reality blasted into my eardrums like a freight train.

I glared at Ryan, the owner of the snapping fingers. He’d been one of my best friends since sixth grade, when he’d drawn a green alien on my cast after I’d broken my arm skateboarding.

“What’s up with you?” Ryan raised his voice over the din.

Me and my three best friends—Ryan, Sam, and Haider—along with a new addition to our unit, Sam’s boyfriend Ben, were having dinner, drinks, and a massive Death Star shaped cake at the Lakeside Inn for part two of my birthday celebrations. It was tradition. We celebrated each other’s birthdays by meeting at the covered bridge in Stonebridge—oddly enough, not made of stone—and taking a late morning walk along Parker Trail, followed by a party later that included family, friends, and coworkers.

Ryan and I sat at our table shooting the shit while Haider had gone to the restroom and Sam and Ben were on the dance floor. The lovebirds may as well have been the only ones out there, gazing into each other’s eyes as they swayed to the slow beat of Taylor Swift’s “Lover”. For all the crap I gave Haider about being a massive Swiftie, I actually liked that song. I would never tell him that, though.

“Nothing,” I lied, finally answering Ryan’s question, but unable to stop from sliding my gaze over to where Sam and Ben were moving as one.

“Oh, I see how it is.” Ryan sounded pleased with himself, as though he’d discovered some new secret to woodworking.

“See how what is?”

Ryan tipped his chin toward the dance floor. “Did youwantto marry Sam?”

I had just taken a slug of my Gansett, the unofficial beer of New England baseball, and spit it out at Ryan’s words. Unfortunately, my beer spray didn’t reach him.

“Of course not,” I spluttered, wiping the beer dribbling down my chin with a napkin. “That was a joke. Besides, I’m not the marrying kind.”

Ryan bunched his eyebrows but didn’t comment, thankfully.

Back when we were all in our early twenties, Sam and I had made a pact that if we were both still single when we turned thirty, we’d marry each other. I can’t even remember why we’d made that pact in the first place, though I remember wanting Sam to be happy, no matter what it took. I’d forgotten all about it until Haider, the first of us to turn thirty this year, brought it up during his birthday walk back in February. We’d laughed it off, but deep down I was . . . I don’t know. I felt weird about it. I’d never tell the guys that, and it wasn’t because I wanted to marry Sam. No, it wasn’t that at all. It was . . . that I was afraid I’d lose my best friend.

I glanced at the dance floor again. Sam was laughing while Ben looked up at him with stars in his eyes.

I want that.

Shit. No, I don’t.

Okay. I don’t know where that thought came from, but I most definitely did not want that. Even though I’d recently told Sam everyone wanted what he and Ben had, I loved beingsingle. I loved the freedom of coming and going as I pleased. And I especially loved not having to answer to anyone for my career choice or my sometimes-extreme adventures and the many injuries I’d sustained as a result. If it got the adrenaline pumping, I was all in, and I didn’t need anyone giving me crap for it.

But my bestest bestie, Sam Caldwell—whose great-great grandfather founded our little town of Caldwell Crossing—was the first one of us four to find his person. Their relationship was the real deal. They’d been together for a few months now and though I’d thought Ben joining us would change the dynamic of our group, he’d fit in seamlessly. And as long as Sam was happy, then I was, too. But what if the other guys found their someone, and that someone didn’t blend in as well? I didn’t want to lose any of these guys who were like true brothers to me.

Haider made his way back to our table like a beacon in the night wearing a silky, bright orange shirt. Three multi-colored neon balloons tied to his wrist bobbed along behind him. His last name was Gray, but he was color personified. And he was sleeping with the enemy and liking it. Phillip Brauning was the vice president of a massive European chocolate conglomerate that was threatening to take over Haider’s family chocolate shop. I’d never seen Haider so torn up about someone before, which could only mean he had serious feelings for the man. But did they have to be for a man who was threatening his livelihood?

I glanced back at Ryan, who was still watching me speculatively. He was probably the next to fall because he had such a huge, soft heart. Not to mention the cute writer we met last week, Adam Nelson, who was renting Ryan’s cabin for six weeks. The two of them had been sending heated looks at each other when they didn’t think anyone was paying attention.

Then where would that leave me? Odd man out. That’s where.

“Stop it,” I growled at Ryan.

He shrugged as Haider dramatically plopped down beside me, his bright blue gaze bouncing between us.

“What did I miss?”

“Nothing,” I groused at the same time as Ryan said, “Jedi is jealous of the lovebirds.”

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