BLURB:

Melody

My love life has been in a downward spiral ever since my ex-boyfriend moved out without saying a word. When I received an invitation to his upcoming wedding only three months later, I felt myself shatter all over again. The worst part is that I was given a plus-one. I'm determined to prove that I'm doing perfectly fine without him, so I intend to show up feigning confidence I certainly don't have. However, the prospect of going alone has put a wrench in that plan, leaving me feeling desperate.

After I disclose my humiliating dilemma to the local meadery owner, Eric, he volunteers to be my stand-in fake boyfriend. What I didn't expect was his proposition. He'll be my plus-one, but he'd like to take me on practice dates to help him navigate the one thing he finds daunting: the art of dating.

Eric's presence becomes a steadying hand, but as lines begin to blur, I'm starting to realize that maybe I don't have to be someone else or hide who I am to be worthy of love. Something has taken root that neither of us intended, and as the wedding looms nearer, I'm not sure my heart will remain intact once our agreement comes to an end.

Eric

Dating has never been something I've been particularly good at. It's why I put all of my energy into the meadery I own with my sister, Willa. Last year, we almost lost everything and I refuse to allow things to slip again. But finding a work-life balance could do me some good--or so everyone tells me.

When Melody--Bywood, New Hampshire's one and only honey farmer--confesses she needs a plus-one for her ex-boyfriend's wedding, I volunteer before I can talk myself out of it. I've been harboring feelings for Melody for years, content to admire her from the safety of a professional distance. I can keep things in check. We can pretend for a little while and go back to the way things were. At least that's what I tell myself.

But as I watch Melody blossom into the strong, exuberant woman she's tried so hard to tamp down for men who aren't worthy of her, I find my meticulous control begins to slip. Now that I know what it feels like to call her mine, I don't want to pretend, I want the real thing.