When Rowanâs marriage ends with a crash, she returns home to Peace Falls, VA, riding shotgun in her sisterâs 1990 Cadillac hearse. Everything about her is damaged: her heart, her pride, her bank account, and her spineâthanks to a tourist, a Segway, and finding her husband getting busy with her boss. But Rowan is determined to reclaim her career and city life as soon as she recuperates and lands a new job.
Caleb âCalâ Cardoso didnât notice wallflower Rowan in high school, but the former football star, and Peace Fallsâs newest physical therapist, canât take his eyes off the stunning redhead now. Too bad heâs sworn off relationships. After his last hookup purposely tanked his online reputation, Cal could lose his job if a single patient leaves his care. Which is why he canât let Rowan switch to another practitioner,
despite the friction between them, and why he definitely canât act on his growing attraction.
Rowan agrees to remain Calâs patient if he helps her younger brother train for football tryouts. Though Cal hasnât touched a football since the accident that killed his best friend, he agrees, and as Cal helps heal Rowanâs body, she begins to heal his heart.
When Rowanâs marriage ends with a crash, she returns home to Peace Falls, VA, riding shotgun in her sisterâs 1990 Cadillac hearse. Everything about her is damaged: her heart, her pride, her bank account, and her spineâthanks to a tourist, a Segway, and finding her husband getting busy with her boss. But Rowan is determined to reclaim her career and city life as soon as she recuperates and lands a new job.
Caleb âCalâ Cardoso didnât notice wallflower Rowan in high school, but the former football star, and Peace Fallsâs newest physical therapist, canât take his eyes off the stunning redhead now. Too bad heâs sworn off relationships. After his last hookup purposely tanked his online reputation, Cal could lose his job if a single patient leaves his care. Which is why he canât let Rowan switch to another practitioner,
despite the friction between them, and why he definitely canât act on his growing attraction.
Rowan agrees to remain Calâs patient if he helps her younger brother train for football tryouts. Though Cal hasnât touched a football since the accident that killed his best friend, he agrees, and as Cal helps heal Rowanâs body, she begins to heal his heart.
Being a wallflower makes you thirsty, so parched for attention your heart feels brittle. Then after yearsâor in my case a lifetimeâsomeone finally sees you. The exquisite feeling seeps deep, the attention saturating your life. So, you jump, headfirst. The red flags go unnoticed. Declarations of love tossed as lightly as petals. Maybe you marry him, like I did. Maybe you bloom in domestic bliss with a house in the suburbs and two adorable kids. Maybe a dog. Bare minimum a pet turtle.
I wasnât so lucky.
After two years of marriage, instead of house hunting in the outskirts of DC, I was riding shotgun in my sisterâs 1990 Cadillac hearse, headed back to Peace Falls, VA, with everything I owned stuffed where a coffin ought to be.
Iâd cried so much in the past three hours, I could barely make out the foothills rising in the distance. My throat was raw. Crumpled tissues littered the floorboard, and lint covered my leggings.
âIâll vacuum in here later,â I croaked.
Poppy shot me a worried glance and returned her attention to the road. She blew out a breath that ruffled her short black bangs.
For two sisters who looked so much alike, we couldnât appear more different. We have the same bright copper hair as our mother, but Poppy hadnât worn hers naturally since middle school, when she bought a box of dye at Mr. Wilsonâs pharmacy and applied it while our mother was at work. Mom lost it until she realized what a great job sheâd done. I suspect my sister made a deal since Poppyâs hair has been every color but red ever since, and Momâs grays vanished overnight.
Poppy settled on black a year ago, which matched her entire wardrobe. The color, coupled with the heavy winged liner she wore faithfully, made her green eyes pop in a way I could never make my own.
âDonât forget your drink,â she said.
Had she spoken since we got in the hearse? I honestly couldnât remember, but judging by how tense her shoulders were, and the box of tissues Iâd burned through, Iâm guessing we hadnât talked much.
The tears surprised me. Apart from a couple of late-night phone calls to my mother after I left the hospital, Iâd held it together pretty well. I was too busy tying up the loose ends of my life in DC to feel anything but stressed. The moment Poppy arrived to drive me home, the tears started and built with every box, bag, and lamp we slid into the hearse.
Poppy had stopped in Manassas to pee and fill up her gas guzzler, but I stayed in the passenger seat and cried. I hadnât touched the fountain Pibb Xtra sheâd bought me, which was basically a sin. The 32oz-er had sweated in the cup holder for nearly two hours. I finally picked it up and took a long pull from the straw, letting the slightly flat, watered-down goodness soothe my throat. I drank nearly half before I put it back. I guess crying dehydrates you.
My stomach gave a loud gurgle. Understandable, since Iâd been too upset to eat much over the past week and hadnât attempted anything this morning. I tried to remember the last full meal Iâd eaten and couldnât. Normally, I baked when I felt stressed. Instead, Iâd used the tension to speed me through my task list like I was one of those wind-up cars. Hopefully, Iâd taken better care of my plants than myself.
I twisted to check how my orchid was faring, and pain shot up my spine. I shifted, but the twinge deepened into a throbbing ache. Now that I wasnât crying or dying of thirst, the pain in my back resurfaced. The doctor had warned me to take frequent breaks to stretch, and instead Iâd gone most of the trip without leaving my seat.
âCan you pull over at the scenic overlook? I need some air.â
Poppy swerved into the right lane, cutting off an 18-wheeler. âDonât puke in Tallulah.â
Air brakes sputtered in our wake, but the truck driver didnât honk. A perk of driving a hearse, perhaps, but no amount of courtesy would have prevented us from getting flattened if the semi had been going downhill instead of up.
âWhatâs wrong with you? I just need to stretch.â
As the scenic overlook approached, Poppy flicked on the turn signal, giving the semi enough warning this time before she slowed. She drove past a few out-of-state cars to the edge of the small parking lot and shut off the engine.
âSorry,â she said, patting the dashboard. âYou took down all that Pibb and then your stomach made those weird noises. Iâm a little protective of Tallulah.â
I glared and opened the passenger door. My back screamed as I pulled myself from the hearse and straightened. I took one painful step after another until I reached the stone wall that protected visitors from the steep drop to the valley below. I shuffled along, letting the wall hold my weight until I reached the center.
I turned to face the view and my breath caught. Iâd have wanted to stop at the overlook even if my back wasnât hurting. Poppy had only lived in Peace Falls. She wouldnât understand how it felt to watch the mountains surrounding our small town disappear in the rearview mirror, to search for that feeling of shelter among tall buildings and find only a claustrophobic ache for open space.
The mountains spread before me in waves, the dips and rises worn smooth with time. Summer was my favorite season in the Blue Ridge Valley. Many people preferred the fall colors or spring blooms, but seeing everything so lush and green brought back countless memories of hiking with my dad. Heâd play hooky from work a few times during our summer breaks from school, so we could enjoy the trails with fewer tourists. Our mountains were another hour down the road, but the chain began here. Waterfalls like the one that gave our town its name trickled and poured from underground springs within the mountains, visible only to those willing to weave on foot through the trails to reach them.
Whenever I came home, I always stopped at this overlook to admire the earthen giants that welcomed me back with the same pull of longing as when I left. But this time was different. I wasnât returning to visit. I no longer knew when Iâd leave the mountains again. At the ripe old age of twenty-six, I was unemployed, separated, and in more pain than Iâd ever felt in my life. Everything Iâd worked so hard to accomplish had been obliterated in two minutes, leaving me broken in every way a person can be. When I left Peace Falls, I was determined to make something of myself. To become someone people respected, or, at the very least, mentioned on occasion without a sigh and a âbless her heart.â Iâd failed.
âYouâre still wearing your rings,â Poppy said, propping herself against the wall beside me, facing the parking lot instead of the view. She crossed one combat boot over the other and examined her broken fingernails. âYouâre not planning to take him back? Are you?â
âOf course not,â I snapped. I twisted the overpriced rings and sighed. It wasnât Poppyâs fault my heart and body ached, and sheâd earned serious sister points today, minus the near-death experience. âI was afraid Iâd lose them if I packed them.â
âYou should take them off before we get to Peace Falls. Mom will notice.â
âMom will understand. She wore hers until Chris went to kindergarten.â
âThatâs why sheâll notice. And worry. Besides, you canât compare your situation to Momâs.â
I wiggled the large diamond and matching band from my left hand and handed them to Poppy, who unclipped one of the chains around her neck and slid on the rings. âGood. Iâd hate for you to move back in with all that dog poop.â
I chuckled, despite how awful I felt. âDog poop is a tamer nickname than I expected from you.â
âBradâs a dick. Iâm talking about the real dog poop.â
My stomach sank. âWhat dog poop?â
Poppy smiled, a rare and terrifying thing in the best circumstances. âWhile you were saying goodbye to your super, I might have left a few parting gifts around the apartment.â
I rubbed my forehead, which suddenly hurt more than my back. âWhere?â
âNo way. Iâm not telling. Youâll text dickhead a warning or call your super to clean it up. Plus, I canât remember where I put it all. Two pounds is a lot of crap to locate. I weighed it. A pound for every year you were married.â
As usual, Poppyâs prank was oddly poetic and over the top. âWhere did you get that much poop?â
âChris.â
âMom finally let him get a dog?â
âNah, he walks the neighborâs. He started collecting right after the accident. It was all his idea.â Poppy smiled again, a softer smile that gave a peek at the sweet person she was under all the makeup, black clothes, and heavy boots.
I get it. I do. Poppy, Chris, and I stick up for each other. We always have. My baby brother might be ten years younger than me, but that hadnât stopped him from covering Avery Petersonâs convertible with tampons soaked in Hawaiian Punch after she âaccidentallyâ spilled a carton of milk on my head senior year and told everyone I should thank her for making my hair less glaring. Poppy took the fall, of course, and high-fived Chris when she got home from yet another detention.
âRemember what happened after the tampon incident?â
Poppyâs eyes widened. âShit. You think we made things worse for you?â
âProbably.â I rested my head on her shoulder. âBut thank you.â My back gave another twinge, and I stiffened.
Poppy sighed and wrapped her arm around my waist. âWhat can we do to make your back feel better? Some yoga? A couple shots of Jameson?â
I lifted my head and narrowed my eyes at her. âPlease tell me you donât have an open container of liquor in your vehicle?â
Poppy stepped back and held up her hands. âHey, I didnât know what kind of mood youâd be in. I wanted to be prepared. Plus, Iâm twenty-three. I donât think thereâs an issue, not that Iâd be drinking it. The law is a little gray. I just figured it was good to have on hand, in case you needed it. Honestly, I didnât know what youâd need. Lauren wasnât helpful. She said to âlisten with loveâ and suggested I grab some pastries, which I totally planned to do, but then I overslept after working on a piece too late. I didnât want you there one minute longer than you had to be, so I grabbed the whiskey and dog poop and left. Times like these, I wish Tallulah had a second passenger seat. Lauren wouldnât have forgotten the pastries or assumed you were going to hurl and almost kill us, but another set of seats would defeat the whole purpose of driving a hearse.â
The corners of my lips twitched with a smile. âIf we get pulled over, Iâll say Iâm mourning my husband.â
Poppy stood taller. âDickface isnât worth mourning, Rowan. But the Jamesonâs in the glove box. I even packed Dixie cups, so you could measure, or drink like a lady, or not smash your teeth on the bottle if we hit a bump.â
I placed a hand on her shoulder and shook my head. âIâm not showing up at Momâs reeking of whiskey before dinner. Like you said, sheâs worried enough. Let me walk the length of the overlook a couple times to loosen up, and Iâll be fine.â
âYou are, Rowan,â she said, firmly, âbetter, without him.â
My eyes burned at her confidence and lack of pity. It was the reason Iâd asked Poppy, and only Poppy, to help me move. Mom would have cried right along with me, just like she had on every phone call since I left the hospital. Chris would have gotten upset the way only a sixteen-year-old boy can and done something stupider than collecting dog poop to rain on my ex. My best friend Lauren would have tried to console me with positive affirmations and 100% would have waved a burning sage stick over everything I owned before we left DC. Itâs the reason I begged them all not to come a week ago when everything happened. I couldnât handle their pity or their sadness. I knew Poppy would take whatever she was feeling about the situation and pour it into her art, but even she looked near her breaking point. I havenât seen her this agitated since our dadâs funeral when she realized sheâd outgrown her black ballet flats and refused to wear a pair of my hand-me-downs with gold sequins. Even then, she didnât cry or rage. Instead, she rambled about proper funeral etiquette with a specificity no nine-year-old should know and ended up staying at the house with a neighbor to set up the repast, missing the service. I swiped at my eyes and took a steadying breath. âI hope you got his brown Ferragamo loafers. He loves those.â
Poppy smirked. âI cannot confirm or deny.â
I linked my arm in hers, and we set off across the parking lot toward the hearse and the next chapter of my life.
We meet Rowan following an unfortunate accident that leaves her back almost as broken as her heart after she finds her ex-husband cheating on her with her boss. Rowan's brother, sister, and mother are determined to get her back on her feet after her disastrous break-up but they are also excited for her to be back in their small town after working in Washington DC with her ex for so long. By chance, Rowan's physical therapist, Cal, is also a familiar face from high school, for her at least. As Cal's ratings are tanked by an angry ex-girlfriend, he's determined to keep Rowan as a client so that he isn't fired, despite their growing, less than professional, feelings for each other.
Both Rowan and Cal have complicated backstories. It is impressive that we can learn so much about both of them in this book, especially considering Cal's backstory intertwining with characters who will be explored further in the future installments in this series.
Rowan's relationships with her friends and family are all very important to her. It's very clear that she values the people around her very much and because she left the small-town environment when she got her job in DC, everyone is excited to welcome her back. We see less about Cal's relationships with his family, however, we do see his best friends Aiden and Theo quite a bit throughout the story. Especially in this small town setting, the main characters' relationships with their friends and family are important to the story. For both Rowan and Cal, it is clear that their relationships are influential for their own decisions which is very realistic.
The last few chapters and the epilogue of this story felt a bit rushed. Often, this is the case with romance, especially small-town romances. Finding a suitable conclusion can be difficult with this trope because of the small-town element and the end of these stories is often the same. Despite this, the inclusion of Rowan and Cal's family and friends throughout the story up to the very end was a unique detail that was very much appreciated as someone who reads a lot of these stories.
I definitely recommend this spicy romance and I can't wait to read the next installment in this series!