Cal had always rolled his eyes and secretly thought his dad was making up the stories about their relatives. That he was doing what he could to perpetuate the “royal” Disney myth about soul mates and love at first sight. Now, for the first time in his life, he wavered in his long-held assumptions about how his parents had gotten together.
Shaking his head, Cal continued toward the front of the house. He was actually eager to get inside . . . because on the other side of the door was the enigmatic woman who’d caught his attention without even trying.
Juniper “June” Rose wiped her brow on the sleeve of her T-shirt for what seemed the thousandth time that day. She was exhausted. She’d been going nonstop for hours. Her stepmom and stepsister had been in a tizzy for days. Ever since they’d gotten word that a real-life prince was going to be coming to the house.
From what June had been able to figure out from the bits and pieces of gossip she’d heard while cleaning, overhearing Elaine and Carla’s excited whispers, Prince Redmon, from some small European country, was coming to the house to talk to Carla about her “stalker.”
June snorted out loud. Stalker. Yeah, right. No one was stalking her stepsister—it was just another made-up story so she could get attention. June had never met a meaner, colder, more self-centered woman in her entire life. All Carla Green was interested in was being famous, like the Kardashians. Everything she did was toward that goal. She wanted to be rich, famous, and adored.
The problem was, Carla was truly awful. She actually enjoyed making people cry. To that end, she certainly did everything she could to make June miserable. She was eight years younger than June and acted more like fifteen than her actual twenty-four.
But Carla was also gorgeous. She was six feet tall and slender, had long blonde hair and big blue eyes, and when she wanted to, could be extremely charming. June assumed that was how and why she was able to sweet-talk the man she’d met online who knew Prince Redmon.
June had accidentally interrupted her stepsister one night when she was FaceTiming with the man, Karl—and had been appalled to find Carla naked from the waist up, holding her DDD boobs aloft for the camera.
Of course, Carla had gone to her mom and accused June of spying on her, and June had to endure an hour of being yelled at and called “ungrateful” and “jealous.” Which was ridiculous, but of course, Elaine didn’t give June a chance to tell her what really happened.
June had thought about leaving more times than she could count. She was thirty-two. She wasn’t chained to the house. She could walk away at any time.
But in years past, every single time she worked up the nerve to leave, she’d look around and see the chair where her dad used to hold her in his lap and read to her. Or see the marks on the wall of her height throughout her childhood. He always made a huge deal when she grew a fraction of an inch, though at five-three, she’d always been the shortest kid in her class.
She’d remember her dad kneeling with her in the garden out back as they pulled weeds and laughed about something or other.
Her dad had adored this house. He’d scrimped and saved in order to be able to buy it, to give his daughter a better life, not the cramped apartment he’d lived in during his youth. Things had been tough, but he’d always managed to pay the mortgage, even if they had to eat hot dogs and ramen noodles for weeks on end.
And throughout all their struggles, they’d had each other. They’d played on the five acres around the house and laughed together, and he’d taught her how to cook. Cleaning never seemed like a chore when he was doing it with her.
Everywhere she looked in the house, she saw her dad. It was all she had left of him.
It was hard to believe he’d died so long ago. Throughout the years, her stepmom had slowly but surely moved the things her dad had loved so much to the basement or the attic. The rooms looked nothing like they had when it had been just June and Dad.
When he’d lain in the hospital dying, he’d told June that he’d left the house to her. That he knew she’d love it and care for it as much as he did. And she’d promised to do just that. To preserve their happy memories.
When he’d died, she’d been devastated. Hadn’t been able to think straight. At first her stepmom had been her rock, had kept June from falling apart. But looking back, June now knew the woman had been grooming her. Building her up, only to tear her down. Somehow, she’d even convinced June that college would be a waste of time and money, because she’d never been academically inclined and her dad would want her here, taking care of the house.