Holding Ground

The Mercer Family- Book 1

I’ve been a single dad for five years. Then the wrong woman rented the guest cabin behind my house, and I knew right then she was going to ruin everything.

When Baylor's mother walked out, I made a promise—I'd be enough. Just the two of us. No one to disappoint her. No one else to leave.

Then Emelia Greene rolled into Echo Lake in a Mercedes and a power suit to convince the townspeople to change what makes our small town great. She’s everything this place isn't.

Emelia's not supposed to be kind. She's not supposed to be good with my daughter. She's definitely not supposed to be the one I find myself confiding in at the end of my dock every night.

She's leaving in three months. I know that.

The problem is, I can't stop wondering what it would be like if a woman like her belonged in a place like this.

In a life like mine.

Chasing Smoke

The Mercer Family - Book 2

I've been running toward burning buildings for a decade. Then my best friend's widow smiled at me for the first time in two years, and I knew right then I was in trouble.

After Caleb died, I made a promise—I’d take care of his wife. Keep an eye on her. Check in on her. Make sure she kept on living.

Collins insists she’s fine. She’s not.

So when she finally agrees to let me help pull her out of her grief, I vow to stand beside her however long she needs me, no matter how much it costs me.

Collins isn’t supposed to smile at me like she does. She’s not supposed to let me in. And she definitely isn’t supposed to be the best part of my day.

She was Caleb’s. I know that.

The problem is, I can't stop wondering what it would be like if Collins wasn't just someone I was meant to protect.

But mine.

Treading Water

The Mercer Family - Book 3

I’ve been secretly texting my brother’s best friend for two years, and I knew the first time that we’d crossed a line we couldn’t uncross.

It isn’t the first secret Fowler Briggs and I shared.

When my father turned me away at sixteen, Fowler drove three hours to get me and never told a soul. That night, I promised myself no one would ever get close enough to hurt me again.

Fowler was safe. He was a thousand miles away, on the other end of two years’ worth of Saturday night calls.

Until the life I’d built in Nashville started closing in, and I did what I do best—I ran.

Now I’m working behind Fowler’s bar, sleeping in his spare room, and discovering he’s a lot harder to keep at a distance when he’s right down the hall.

He’s not supposed to see straight through me. Or make staying feel easy. And he definitely isn’t supposed to become the one man I can’t walk away from.

I always run. We both know that.

The problem is, I can’t stop wondering what would happen if, for once, I didn’t.

If I stayed.