Star-Crossed Crush

So what you’re saying, is you need doggy proof of life?

After my world imploded, I needed a job and a place to live. Stat. Which is how I find myself staying in what I’m sure is a ghost-mansion pet-sitting an incorrigible corgi for a billionaire who values his privacy at all costs.

I don’t even know his name. But I think it’s sweet that my mystery boss wants me to send daily doggy “proof of life” via a photo and a text every morning. I can’t help but spice up the texts, just a little. He’s so serious and grumpy—and it’s so much fun to tease him. Our back and forth banter soon becomes the highlight of my day.

Except, when my boss turns up at his coastal mansion to stay for a few weeks, I realize that he’s not so mysterious, after all. The man I’ve been texting with turns out to be Ryder Black. My brother’s best friend. One of the most famous men in the world.

And my former teenage crush.


The last person I expected to see at my late grandmother’s house is my best friend’s sister, who turns out to be my flirtatious new pet sitter. This is what happens when you have a meddling and matchmaking personal assistant.

I live for my music and the road, so I don’t have time for entanglements. I’m home just long enough to sell my inheritance and find the perfect family for the stray dog who adopted me while I was on tour.

Except I can’t concentrate. Daisy’s sunny presence is everywhere, whether she’s getting me to sing karaoke, hosting corgi pool playdates, or delivering baked goods to the paparazzi.

The longer we live together, the harder it is to remember the very valid reasons I shouldn’t fall for my best friend's sister.