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Welcome to Harmony Harbor Box Set Books 1-3
By Debbie Mason
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Format:ebook (Digital original) $15.99 $20.99 CAD
This item is a preorder. Your payment method will be charged immediately, and the product is expected to ship on or around October 31, 2017. This date is subject to change due to shipping delays beyond our control.
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Sophie DiRossi loved growing up in Harmony Harbor but now it’s the last place she wants to be. Left homeless by a fire, she’s forced to go back to the small coastal town that harbors a million secrets, including her own. Sophie sees this secret reflected every day in her daughter’s blue eyes-and she must keep it hidden from the only man she has ever loved. For Liam Gallagher, seeing Sophie again sparks a desire so fierce that it takes his breath away. Now he will do whatever it takes to show her that they deserve a second chance.
Hidden in Graystone Manor is a book containing all the dark secrets of Harmony Harbor, and Ava DiRossi is determined to find it. No one-especially not her ex-husband, Griffin Gallagher-can ever discover what really tore her life apart all those years ago. But what’s never changed are the sexy sparks of attraction between Ava and Griffin, and he won’t give her up again without a fight. He knows there’s the real possibility of a future together . . . if the truth doesn’t burn the bridge between them forever.
Olivia Davenport has finally gotten her life back together. She’s become Harmony Harbor’s most sought-after event planner and left her past behind her-until she learns that she’s now guardian of her ex’s young daughter. With her world spinning, Olivia doesn’t have time for her new next-door neighbor, no matter how handsome he is. Dr. Finn Gallagher would really like to be the shoulder Olivia leans on, and with a little help from some matchmaking widows and a precocious little girl, Finn might just win her over.
Many thanks to my editor Alex Logan for allowing me the creative freedom to follow my vision for this book and the new series. She not only works tirelessly on behalf of my books, but she also makes each one so much better with her creative insights. To the dedicated sales, marketing, production, and art departments at Grand Central/Forever, thank you so much for all your efforts on behalf of my books. They're greatly appreciated. I'm also grateful to my daughter Jess for reading the book through its many stages, and to my agent Pamela Harty for always being there when I need her.
My heartfelt thanks to Vanessa Kelly and Allison Van Diepen for all their support and encouragement. I'm so lucky to have you both in my life.
To Sharon and Scott LeClair, thank you for being the best sister and brother I could ask for. Love you both.
Thanks also to my mom and her friends for providing the inspiration for the Widow's Club in Harmony Harbor. You're not as quirky as the members in Harmony, but you're just as wonderful and fun. You're proof that seventy really is the new fifty.
To my wonderful husband, amazing children, and adorable granddaughters, I couldn't do what I do without your love and support. Thank you. You guys are my world.
To the readers who have been on this journey with me since the release of the first book in the Christmas, Colorado, series, thank you so very much for sticking with me. Your support and your lovely reviews, e-mails, Facebook posts, and tweets mean the world to me. I hope you enjoy hanging out with the Gallaghers of Harmony Harbor as much as you did the McBrides of Christmas, Colorado.
Sirens wailed, the fire engines' red and white lights bouncing off the clapboard Colonials on Main Street. People strolling along the tree-lined sidewalk turned to watch the rigs careen around a corner while cars veered to the side of the road. Ladder Engine 1 and Engine 6 were headed west of Harmony Harbor to Greystone Manor.
Three hours earlier, Liam Gallagher had been heading home to Boston. He'd stopped by the station to say goodbye to his father, Fire Chief Colin Gallagher, on the way out of town. But, because he loved his old man, who had put up with Liam for the past month, he'd made his first mistake. He'd let his dad convince him to stay another day. Taking his father up on his challenge had been a bigger one. Under the watchful eyes of the three men who knew him about as well as he knew himself, Liam would be battling his first fire in more than five weeks. Built in the early nineteenth century and modeled after a medieval castle, Greystone Manor was a firefighter's worst nightmare. And over the last month, Liam had been battling one of his own.
The chief disconnected his cell phone call and shifted to face Liam and Marco DiRossi, Liam's childhood best friend. The rest of the crew followed behind in the ladder engine. Fergus MacLeod, a burly beast of a man with russet hair and beard who'd known Liam since he was in diapers, blasted the horn at three-second intervals to clear the intersection up ahead. Liam's father raised his voice to be heard. "Manor's full of smoke, but the sprinklers haven't kicked in. Lights went out, and the generator took longer than it should to come on. A couple of guests sustained minor injuries evacuating—"
"GG and Grams?" Liam asked, unable to conceal the anxiety in his voice. He wasn't worried his father would misconstrue the reason for it or reprimand him for interrupting his brief. Liam's great-grandmother Colleen owned and operated Greystone with the help of her daughter-in-law and Liam's grandmother, Kitty.
He'd never understood what had possessed his great-grandmother to turn the manor into a hotel. If it had been up to him, she would have sold out years ago. Especially now that his grandfather Ronan was no longer there to help run the place. Liam hoped she'd be more open to the idea after tonight.
"Jasper got GG out, but your grandmother, a woman, and a young child are still inside. They can't find the little girl. Kitty and the woman refuse to leave without her." His father looked at Marco. "Jasper says she's your sister, son. And the little girl is her daughter, your niece."
Liam blew out a silent whistle. Sophie DiRossi. He hadn't thought about her in years, and there'd been a time when she'd been all he thought about. He glanced at Marco, who sat in the jump seat across from him.
Beneath an inch of dark scruff, Marco's jaw tightened. "Jasper's gotta be mistaken, Chief. Sophie and her kid live in LA. She hasn't been home since she left."
"Just wanted to give you a heads-up in case it's true," his father said then glanced at Liam and lifted his chin at Marco before facing forward.
Everyone in Harmony Harbor knew how the DiRossis felt about Sophie and her mother's defection. Within six months of Sophie and her mother taking off, the oldest of the DiRossi siblings, Lucas, had left Harmony Harbor, and a year later, their father, Giovanni, remarried and moved to Italy.
"You okay?" Liam asked his best friend.
Marco took off his helmet to stab his fingers through his dark hair. "Jasper has to be wrong. There's no way it's Sophie."
If Jasper said it was Sophie, Liam had no doubt that it was. Nothing got past the old man—a fact Liam, his brothers, and cousins could attest to. Jasper, or Jeeves as the Gallagher grandchildren referred to him, had been at Greystone for as long as any of them could remember. A tall beanpole of a man with stiff, overly proper manners, he ruled the manor and the Gallagher family with an iron fist hidden inside a velvet glove.
Since Marco knew Jasper almost as well as Liam, either his friend was in denial or he held a grudge longer than Liam had given him credit for. Noting the angry bounce of Marco's right leg, he was going with the latter. Then again…"They'll be okay, buddy. We'll find your niece. Get them out of there."
"Yeah, yeah, I know. What I don't know is why the hell she's here. After eight years, she just shows up out of the blue…" With a white-knuckled grip on his helmet, Marco gave his head an angry shake.
So Liam had been right after all. "I don't get it. Aren't you happy she's finally come home?"
"Give me a break. You have no idea what her leaving did to my family. For two years, we never heard a word from her. Now we're lucky if she calls a couple times a year. And for the amount of time she talks, you'd think we were putting a trace on her phone calls."
"So, what, you don't believe in second chances? Don't be a hothead and blow it. At least you still have a sister." Liam sensed his father glancing his way and Fergus's eyes on him in the rearview mirror.
"You're right. Sorry, I didn't think."
Fergus blasted the horn as he drove beneath a vine-covered stone arch, past the iron gates leading into the estate. The headlights and emergency lights sliced through the gloom of the late October night and Liam leaned forward. What got his attention wasn't the sprawling mansion built of local granite or the people scattering from where they'd been standing on the circular drive. It was the white smoke billowing from the manor's entrance. He opened the door as the engine rolled to a stop and smelled the air—chemicals, not burning wood. "There's no fire," Liam said to his father as he jumped onto the asphalt.
"Not yet, but could be electrical. Breathing apparatus on, Liam," his father called after him.
Liam raised his gloved hand, indicating he heard him as he jogged to where Jasper was leading Kitty from the manor. "You okay, Grams?" he asked once he reached them.
She nodded through a coughing fit.
He rubbed her arm and looked at Jasper. "Sophie and the little girl still inside?"
Jasper gave him a clipped nod. "We'd gone through most of the upper and main floors before Miss Kitty was overcome."
"All right. Go let Dad check you both over," Liam said as he started into the building then pivoted when it hit him what he was smelling. "Jasper, you didn't have the fog machine going, did you?"
"Certainly not, Master Liam. As your father directed, I expressly forbade Miss Kitty and Madame from using it this Halloween."
Since Madame didn't like to be told what she could or couldn't do, Liam didn't rule out the possibility that Colleen and a fog machine were behind the smoke. As he walked into the entryway, he tapped the switch on his helmet twice. The beam of light cut through the haze, providing him with a 180-degree view. He jogged across the lobby, calling for Sophie while trying to get an idea where the smoke originated from. He spotted what he believed was the point of origin at the same time he heard someone cough.
A woman with long, dark hair stumbled out of one of the sitting rooms. "Sophie, it's Liam." He tipped up his helmet as he closed the distance between them.
She lowered a denim jacket from where she'd held it over her mouth and nose. Her face was pale, her golden brown eyes red-rimmed. She looked exhausted and utterly terrified. "My little girl. I can't find my little girl. You have to help me—" She started coughing again.
"I'll find her, Sophie. But you need to—" He broke off as a second beam of light joined his. "Marco, get her out of here," he ordered his best friend.
Marco nodded, his expression unreadable as he reached for his sister.
She pulled away from her brother and frantically shook her head. "No, I can't go. I have to help you find her. You don't—"
Her brother cut her off. "Dammit, Soph, don't be stubborn. We'll find her, but you have to—"
"No, no, you don't understand. She's terrified of fire…of firemen. And she can't…" Her voice broke on a sob. Liam saw the herculean effort it took for her to regain control, but she did, and then she finished what she'd been about to say. "She can't talk."
He and Marco shared a glance. Their job just got a whole lot harder. "Sophie, I'll take off the breathing apparatus and my helm—"
"Like hell you will," his father said through his com. Marco said the same thing beside him.
Liam knew the reason for their concern and ignored them. He couldn't think about that now. Couldn't let the memory of the warehouse fire into his head. "I'm going to find your little girl. What's her name?"
She held his gaze as though she believed him and swiped at her eyes. "Mia. Her name's Mia." Overcome by another coughing fit, Sophie struggled to take the knapsack off her shoulder. Waving off his offer to help, she dug around inside and pulled out a pink pig with a singed ear. "We had a fire at our apartment in LA. Other than Mia, Peppa Pig is pretty much the only thing that survived. It might help if you show her…" Sophie bit her bottom lip then handed him the stuffed animal. "Please, Liam, please find her. She's all I have."
He slipped the pink pig into his pocket. "Right now it doesn't look like we're dealing with a fire. She'll be okay, Sophie. I'll find her," he promised.
"Jesus, Soph. Why didn't you call us? Why didn't…"
Liam didn't waste time waiting for Sophie to answer her brother. He jogged toward the door behind the grand staircase. It led to the basement, a place that had featured prominently in his nightmares as a little kid. Probably because his older brothers and cousins had traumatized him with stories about the long-dead pirates that haunted the narrow passageways and secret tunnels. If the upper floors had already been searched, it's possible he'd find Mia down here.
Smoke billowed through the partially open door, and Liam adjusted his breathing apparatus before opening it wide. As soon as he did, he was hit by a thick wall of smoke. The beam of light cut through the fog and illuminated the spiral staircase.
Liam started down the stairs and the stone walls closed in around him, transporting him to a wide-open space filled with movement and noise. Voices came over his radio—yelling, the rapid repeat of gunshots. Faint at first, and then the gunfire became louder. Get down. Get down. He belly-crawled to where Billy lay in the middle of the floor, laser beams zinging overhead from one side of the warehouse to the other. Shouting. Everyone shouting. A bullet shattered the concrete an inch from his head, and then another one…
Something repeatedly bumped his leg, getting harder with each jab, and the flashback started to fade. Liam looked down. A pair of small blue eyes stared up at him. It was a black cat. It took a moment for his head to clear and get his bearings. He wasn't in Boston; he was on the stairs at Greystone.
Someone yelled over the radio. "Liam, are you all right? Liam, goddammit, answer me."
"Good. I'm good, Chief. I'm in the basement. Must have played havoc with the com," he lied to his father, who must already suspect what Liam had been denying. He was so far from good it wasn't funny. "Found the problem," he said as he reached the bottom of the stairs.
To his left, barely visible behind cardboard boxes piled precariously close, sat two overheating commercial fog machines. They were damn lucky the units hadn't caused a fire. He reported his findings to his father over the com at the same time Marco thundered down the stairs.
When he reached the bottom, Marco searched Liam's face and stabbed an angry, gloved finger in his chest. "Get your head out of your ass, Gallagher, before I do it for you."
"I know. I know. But now's not the time to—" He broke off and frowned down at the cat head-butting his leg. For a second, Liam was afraid he'd zoned out again. But, no, Marco would have seen it coming on and shook him out of it. The cat meowed and looked toward the tunnels. Liam didn't read minds, cat or human, but somehow he knew this was about Mia. As though the cat sensed he'd clued in, he took off. Liam ran after him.
"Where do you think you're going?" Marco called out.
"To find Mia," he shouted back. His voice sounded like he'd been hacking up a lung. Maybe he had been during the flashback. Though now wasn't the time to think about those missing minutes and what they would have meant had they been battling an actual blaze. He'd beat himself up over it later.
As he made his way deeper into the tunnels, the smoke wasn't as bad. He pulled off his breathing apparatus, stopping briefly to remove the tank and rest it carefully against the damp stone wall. He thought he'd lost the cat until he heard an impatient meow up ahead. The beam of light from Liam's helmet caught the end of the cat's tail just before it disappeared down a narrow passageway.
As soon as Liam rounded the corner, he spotted the little girl. Sophie's daughter sat with her back to the wall, her forehead resting on denim-clad knees that were pressed to her chest. She slowly raised her head and blinked into the bright light.
"Hey, Mia." He didn't want to frighten her and crouched a couple yards away. Then he took off his helmet and set it on the ground, angling it so the light didn't hit her in the eyes. He smiled. "I'm Liam Gallagher, a friend of your uncle Marco. Your mommy too. I've known her since she was a little girl not much older than you are."
She scuttled away from him then came to her feet, her eyes darting from left to right. His chest tightened. He recognized the look on her face, the wide-eyed panic and fear of someone who'd suffered a trauma. He should know, since after tonight, he could no longer deny he'd suffered the same. "Your mommy gave me"—he wracked his brain for the pig's name—"Porky." She looked at him. "Peppy the pig?"
The faintest hint of a smile touched her adorable heart-shaped face. "Do you want your pig?" he asked, reaching in his pocket.
She gave her head a quick shake, and Liam withdrew his hand from his pocket. He got it. The singed ear was a reminder of what she and her stuffed animal had been through. "You don't have to be frightened, sweetheart. There wasn't a fire, just a lot of smoke from the fog machines." Within minutes, there might have been a fire. But looking at Mia, he couldn't let his mind go there. Couldn't think of her down here trapped and alone. "I know you're scared, and you don't know me, but your mommy's worried about you, so whaddya say we get out of here?"
She looked down, her long, dark hair shielding her face, but not enough to hide the slight flush pinking her cheeks. He frowned and followed her gaze, wondering what…He briefly closed his eyes. She'd wet her pants.
He cleared his throat. "Mia. Sweetheart." Her big blue eyes flitted to his face then darted away. "If I tell you a secret, do you promise not to tell anyone?" She glanced at him then gave him a hesitant nod. "Okay, I'm holding you to that. When I was around your age…Now that I think about it, I was way older. Like ten." He'd been five. "My brothers and cousins brought me down here to hunt for buried treasure. We had flashlights and shovels, and while we were digging, they told ghost stories. Really spooky ones. And then they turned the flashlights off. They left me down here for hours all by myself in the dark. I was so scared, I wet my pants." That part was true. "So you see, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. Happens to the best of us," he said with a smile, and shrugged out of his jacket, holding it open for her. "You can put this on, and no one will know. It'll be our secret. Sound good?" He'd find a way to tell Sophie without embarrassing Mia.
She took a couple hesitant steps toward him. "Thatta girl," he said, and leaned over to wrap the jacket around her tiny, delicate frame. "It's pretty long. Is it okay if I pick you up so you don't trip?" She nodded, and he lifted her into his arms. "You know what? You're as brave as any firefighter I know, so you should probably wear this." He put his helmet on her head, grinning when she disappeared beneath it. He tipped it up. "There you are."
She rewarded him with a smile that lit up her face and wrapped around his heart, squeezing tight.
"Mia DiRossi, you're going to be a heartbreaker just like your mother."
Sophie DiRossi stood alone in the shadow of the beech tree with her arms wrapped around her waist, staring at the manor's smoke-filled entrance, willing Mia to appear. It felt like she'd been standing here for an eternity. She'd left Harmony Harbor because of her daughter, and she'd come back for the same reason. If she'd had a crystal ball, she would have kept driving. Only she'd run out of gas, and she didn't have any money or anywhere else to go. It's how she'd ended up at Greystone. The last place she wanted to be.
A large, dark form took shape in the smoke and drew her attention. She squinted, wondering if it was her imagination. Then Liam stepped out of the haze with her daughter in his arms, and a cheer went up from the crowd. Sophie's legs buckled, relief weakening the tight reins that had held her emotions in check the entire arduous drive from California to Massachusetts's North Shore.
All the worry, fear, and guilt she'd tried to hide from Mia over the past three weeks bubbled up inside Sophie and exploded in a torrent of tears and noisy sobs. She stood there like a blubbering idiot, helpless to get herself under control. Covering her mouth with both hands only served to muffle the wracking, body-heaving sobs.
It was like she was channeling her passionate and emotional Italian grandmother. That thought alone should have been enough to put an end to Sophie's cringe-worthy performance, but she was afraid it was about to get worse when she sensed the crowd looking her way and a half-hysterical giggle escaped from between her fingers.
And then Liam was there, pulling her against his muscled chest. His arm across her back was firm and supportive, his big hand gentle as he stroked her hair. As he held both her and her daughter in his arms, Sophie leaned into him, soaking up every ounce of his warmth and comfort. She couldn't remember the last time someone had held her like this. The last time someone had told her everything was going to be okay, and she believed them.
He whispered the words against her hair—the pull of his deep, gravelly voice stronger than the urgent one in her head demanding she release the man she once prayed would notice her. He was a Gallagher—a danger, not a balm. But it had been so long since she'd had someone to lean on that she couldn't bring herself to let him go. She wanted to experience the feeling of being safe and protected for just a little longer. Her brief reprieve was cut short when the strong smell of ammonia invaded her nostrils.
She lifted her head and glanced at Mia then raised her questioning gaze to Liam. Her heart skipped a beat when she met his eyes. If she'd been asking the question out loud, the words wouldn't have made it out of her mouth. Shock and a healthy dose of feminine appreciation would have held them hostage. With her panic over Mia and the smoke in the manor, Sophie hadn't registered just how tall and broad he'd become. She didn't remember his eyes being that deep, compassionate blue. Or his face with its chiseled angles being so breath-stealingly beautiful beneath his thick, wavy black hair, his nose strong and bold above his full, sensuous lips. Her blatant study of Liam ended the moment he gave her an almost imperceptible nod. Her little girl had been terrified and wet her pants.
Sophie's view of Liam's handsome face blurred as tears once again flooded her eyes. If she hadn't caught Mia staring at her from under the helmet just then, Sophie would have subjected her audience to another ugly cry. But that wide-eyed, worried look on her daughter's face was all it took for Sophie to pull herself together. Too bad she hadn't thought of that a few minutes ago.
She stepped away from Liam and turned her head, giving her eyes and nose a quick wipe on the sleeve of her black hoodie before looking up at him with a self-conscious smile. "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. I should be thanking you, and instead I cried all…" She went to touch the damp spot on his T-shirt but quickly jerked her hand away, afraid she might be tempted to pet his rock-hard pecs or fall into his arms again. "Sorry, we've been on the road for six days, and I haven't gotten much sleep. And then when Mia—"
Liam ducked his head to look her in the eyes, a slight smile touching his perfect lips.
"Sophie, you don't have to be embarrassed. Does she, Mia?"
Her daughter looked like she was about to nod—Yes, she does—but then glanced at Liam and shook her head.
Sophie winced at Mia's initial reaction. "Thanks, but it was a pretty epic meltdown. I don't usually fall apart like that." And make a complete and utter spectacle of herself, she thought, as she lifted Mia's hand to her lips and kissed her soft palm. "You okay, baby?" she asked, hesitating before rubbing her daughter's fine-boned fingers against her cheek. These days Mia rarely let Sophie display any kind of motherly affection, and she took advantage of the moment, holding Mia's hand against her face.
What she wouldn't give to have her daughter back. The little girl who spent more time singing than talking, who giggled and made jokes and loved to play make-believe and kiss and cuddle her mother. Sophie squeezed her eyes tight to keep the tears at bay. She had to knock off the emotional crap. She'd embarrassed her daughter enough for one day.
Mia pulled back her hand and nodded. Sophie wondered what Liam thought of her daughter's chilly reception to her affection. But he was looking past her, his broad shoulders rising on a deep, inward breath.
"Liam, paramedics are waiting to check you over," his father called out.
Picking up on the tension in Chief Gallagher's voice, Sophie glanced over her shoulder. Liam's father was a tall and handsome man. Like his son, he was one of the to-serve-and-protect Gallaghers—calm and quietly commanding. But the way he was dragging his hand over his thick head of gray hair didn't seem the least bit calm. He appeared upset with his son.
She looked up at Liam. "Is there something wrong?"
"No, nothing." He smiled at Mia as he handed her off to Sophie. "I'll take this." He carefully removed the helmet from her daughter's head. "But you better keep my jacket. Temperature's dropped, and we don't want you catching a cold." He winked at Mia then looked at Sophie. "Wasn't under the best of circumstances, but it was good seeing you. Marco should be finished in there shortly. Take care. You too, sweetheart." He lightly tapped his finger on her daughter's small, upturned nose before moving to walk away.
"Liam, wait." Sophie reached for his hand. He turned, and she slipped her hand into his. His fingers were calloused, warm, and strong. "Thank you for finding Mia. For…" Unable to mention the pants-wetting episode without embarrassing her daughter, Sophie said, "Thank you for everything you did for us tonight."
He gave her fingers a light squeeze. "Just doing my job, Soph."
"I doubt comforting hysterical women is in your job description." He'd done more than comfort her; he hadn't judged her. And he'd made her daughter feel safe. He had no idea what an incredible feat that was.
"You'd be surprised." He smiled as he extricated his fingers from hers. "I better get going."
- On Sale
- Oct 31, 2017
- Page Count
- 1200 pages