Finding Paradise

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by Barbara Dunlop




  PRAISE FOR NOVELS BY BARBARA DUNLOP

  “An interesting read and a good mix of romance, lust and suspense. Ms. Dunlop has given her readers a story to disappear into.”

  —Harlequin Junkie

  “A perfect read for the holidays. It was funny, heartwarming and downright endearing. . . . Grab a hot cup of cocoa and snuggle up to the fire for this one—it will warm your heart.”

  —Fresh Fiction

  “A lovely little holiday small-town romance.”

  —Carries Book Reviews

  “Definitely pick this one up if you love cowboy romances that are a nice, slow burn.”

  —Remarkablylisa

  “A charming, laugh-out-loud holiday story. . . . Barbara Dunlop’s characters are passionate, multilayered, warm and funny.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  “Fast-paced, sexy, witty and romantic . . . a fabulous story which you will devour in a single sitting! Barbara Dunlop is a talented storyteller who has written an engaging and engrossing tale.”

  —CataRomance Review

  “Sparkles with bright characterization and sizzling romance; don’t miss it!”

  —Romance Reviews Today

  Berkley titles by Barbara Dunlop

  Match Made in Paradise

  Finding Paradise

  A JOVE BOOK

  Published by Berkley

  An imprint of Penguin Random House LLC

  penguinrandomhouse.com

  Copyright © 2021 by Barbara Dunlop

  Excerpt from Strangers in Paradise copyright © 2021 by Barbara Dunlop

  Penguin Random House supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin Random House to continue to publish books for every reader.

  A JOVE BOOK, BERKLEY, and the BERKLEY & B colophon are registered trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC.

  Ebook ISBN: 9780593332993

  First Edition: November 2021

  Cover design by Farjana Yasmin

  Cover image of couple by Oleh Slobodeniuk / Getty; mountains by Flashbacknyc / Shutterstock

  Book design by George Towne

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  pid_prh_5.8.0_138640739_c0_r0

  CONTENTS

  Cover

  Praise for Novels by Barbara Dunlop

  Berkley Titles by Barbara Dunlop

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Acknowledgments

  Extract from Strangers in Paradise

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Enjoying the last sip of a bubbly Dom Pérignon from her blown-crystal flute, Marnie Anton paused beneath the vaulted ceilings of LA’s Lafayette mansion to ponder irony and the twists of fate.

  “I see you need more champagne,” Hannah Lafayette observed, her voice light and cheerful as she approached Marnie in the great room. She gave a discreet wave to a nearby waiter who was standing at the ready.

  Hannah had grown up in the mansion and was completely comfortable in its grandeur and opulence.

  Marnie, on the other hand, had grown up behind an auto shop in Merganser, Kansas.

  A crisp-dressed, white-shirted man refilled her glass with the dry, deeply flavored golden champagne that foamed partway up to the rim. In a town full of entertainment power brokers, the late Alastair Lafayette still had an unbeatable wine cellar.

  “Thank you.” Marnie gave the waiter a truly grateful smile. She might have grown up playing in a wheel alignment pit instead of a wine cellar, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate a great vintage.

  “I can feel the excitement from here.” Hannah gestured to the dozen women chatting and laughing over drinks and hors d’oeuvres in scattered groups around the gracious room.

  “You didn’t have to do all this.” Marnie had been surprised when Hannah and her twin brother, Henry, had so wholeheartedly embraced supporting the Finding Paradise Alaskan matchmaking venture. They were hosting a launch party tonight, giving the selected women a chance to get to know one another before tomorrow’s flight to Anchorage, then Fairbanks, then on to the small, rural town of Paradise.

  “We’re more than happy to help out,” Hannah said with what sounded like sincerity. “I know Mia transferred ownership of the house to us, but we still consider it hers too.” She paused for a moment, a thread of humor coming into her voice. “And Henry wouldn’t have it any other way. He got a haircut, picked up a new suit and shaved at four o’clock this afternoon.”

  Marnie couldn’t help but smile at Henry’s eagerness to meet the young, eligible women who were participating in the endeavor.

  Her legal client and close friend Mia Westberg was the driving force behind the Alaskan matchmaking project. At twenty-seven, Mia was only two years older than her stepchildren, Hannah and Henry, and over the past few months, they’d battled each other in a drawn-out court case over Mia’s husband Alastair’s estate. By rights, Marnie and Hannah should still be adversaries.

  Marnie had successfully argued for the fashion empire and mansion to go to Mia—as Alastair had directed. But Mia had promptly shared ownership of the company with the twins, handed over the family mansion to them, then ceded control of the company and moved to Paradise, Alaska.

  Having met bush pilot Silas Burke and having seen the diamond ring he put on Mia’s finger, Marnie didn’t blame her friend for falling in love. But Mia had turned a clear court case win into what felt like a partial loss. It was hard for the competitive streak in Marnie to accept the final outcome.

  “Scarlett Kensington seems particularly amped up.” Hannah continued the conversation like she and Marnie were old friends, nodding to one particular group of women.

  Marnie took in Scarlett’s flushed cheeks and her brisk hand gestures where she chatted with Olivia Axler and Willow Hale in front of the wide stone fireplace that soared to the ceiling—a portrait of Grandfather Lafayette gazing down from its face. Scarlett was twenty-two and worked as a production assistant in the film industry.

  Mia and her cousin Raven, who also lived in Paradise, had carefully selected each applicant, choosing women they thought might fit in best in small-town Alaska. There were plenty of robust, hardworking men in Paradise who were eager to meet new women. And the women here were eager to meet honorable men.

  “Scarlett’s into surfboarding and parasailing,” Marnie said to Hannah, having studied the background of each of the successful applicants. “She also said she likes to hike in the San Gabriel Mountains.”
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  “I guess that’s the kind of thing you’d be looking for.”

  “Willow hang glides, and Olivia’s been fly fishing with her grandfather. We built outdoor sports into the algorithm.”

  “That seems smart,” Hannah said, tilting her head to study another of the conversation groups. “From the pictures Mia sent, Paradise is nothing but mountains, trees and rivers. You’d have to be outdoorsy to put up with that.”

  Marnie had seen those same pictures. “They have a café, a bar, housing—well, cabins and camp trailers mostly. But there’s the health center, the school, Galina Expediting’s warehouse and West Slope Aviation at the airstrip.”

  Galina and WSA were the main employers in the town, its reason for existing, in fact.

  Hannah pouted her pretty red lips. “Not a single designer boutique, no fine dining, no beachfront, never mind a country club.”

  Marnie cracked a smile at the justified criticism. “Plus, the bugs and the bears. Definitely not my idea of paradise.”

  “Whose was it, do you think?” Hannah looked perplexed, giving her champagne flute a small wave of emphasis. “Who got there, looked around and said, ‘Ahh, Paradise, that’s the right name’?”

  Marnie’s grin widened. It felt strange to chat amicably with Hannah after the bitterness of the court case.

  Marnie had later learned that Hannah’s mother, Alastair’s ex-wife Theresa, had been the driving force behind the hostility. Still, it was unsettling to have Hannah’s attitude turn on a dime like this. Marnie kept expecting Hannah to voice some sharp disagreement or have an angry outburst like she’d done a couple of times in the courtroom.

  “Silas is picking them up in Fairbanks?” Hannah asked after a moment of silence.

  Marnie nodded. “I’m not sure he’s thrilled to be dropped into the middle of the whole undertaking. But he can’t say no to Mia.”

  Hannah took a sip of her own champagne. “Mia made it sound like his boss was the real grouch.”

  “Most of the guys can’t wait to mix and mingle. The entire town is in desperate need of more estrogen. But his boss, Brodie, thinks it’ll be disruptive to his airline’s operations.”

  “It probably will.”

  “True, and he’s skeptical that any of the women will settle down in Alaska.”

  “Even if they do meet their perfect match?” Hannah asked.

  “Even then.”

  “What do you think?”

  Marnie had to agree with Brodie—even though they’d chosen women who skewed toward outdoor pursuits. “Would you leave LA for Paradise, Alaska, population four hundred?”

  “With gravel roads, a single restaurant and an average winter temperature of ten below?” Hannah grimaced.

  Marnie lifted her flute in mock toast to their evident agreement. “Exactly.”

  They both drank, then pondered for a moment.

  “I hear the guys are super sexy,” Hannah ventured.

  “I suppose they’d keep you warm at night,” Marnie allowed.

  Hannah stretched out her fingers and gazed at her perfect coral manicure. “I’d miss Celeste’s esthetic talents . . . and my friends at the club . . . and where would you even wear your Castille or your Faux?”

  Marnie couldn’t afford either of those fashion designers, but she understood the point. “I have a dozen pairs of perfectly good shoes that would not survive gravel roads and muddy pathways.”

  Hannah’s sculpted brows furrowed. “Mia’s been wearing those brown leather boots all the time up there, waterproofed, I think.”

  “Barely a heel.” Marnie had seen them in pictures, splattered in mud. They looked tragically practical, reminding her of a time in her life she preferred to forget.

  “No calf elongation whatsoever.” Hannah glanced down at her own shapely legs beneath the shimmer of her slim, steel-blue cocktail dress. Her stiletto peep toes had obviously been dyed to match the dress, and they looked terrific.

  “I’m only five foot two.” Marnie needed all the help she could get in the heel department.

  Hannah stepped back to take in Marnie’s four-inch T-straps. “Those are really nice.”

  Marnie turned her ankle sideways. “A little platform under the toe helps. Keeps the arches more comfortable when you’re standing.” She’d learned back in law school that she needed to add to her height if she wanted anyone to take her seriously.

  In front of a judge, she always wore slacks to help camouflage the lift of her shoes. She tied her hair back too. The bright copper color seemed to distract male judges, also male opposing attorneys. She’d never figured out why. It was just hair, and plenty of people had hair that color.

  “I take it Alaska’s not on your bucket list?” Hannah asked.

  “My bucket list includes places like London and the Mediterranean.”

  As for Alaska, Marnie would see the women safely to LAX tomorrow morning and onto the plane. Then she planned to take a little time for herself to recover from the flurry of activity. She hadn’t booked any client appointments for tomorrow or for Friday either, planning to extend the weekend, kick back and relax.

  Thinking about it, she could use a new manicure herself, maybe a pedicure too. Maybe she’d do an entire spa day.

  “I guess we leave the outdoorsy stuff to the hang gliders and the parasailers.”

  “I’ve played beach volleyball,” Marnie offered with a thread of humor.

  She could also navigate by the stars and survive a week in the wilderness with nothing but a pocketknife and a pound of dried beans, but she didn’t say so. And she’d sure as hell never do it for fun.

  “Tennis for me,” Hannah said. “But that’s mostly because the Turquoise Racket Club serves such a great brunch.”

  “I feel like an underachiever,” Marnie said.

  “You? You’re one of the best lawyers in LA!” Hannah paused. “I mean, you beat us without breaking a sweat.”

  Marnie sent her a sidelong glance, wondering if this was it, if Hannah was about to express her hidden hostility.

  “And we had ourselves a top-notch team,” Hannah continued offhandedly. “Brettan LaCroix spared no expense.”

  “There wasn’t much they could do with an iron-clad will.” Marnie was still tense, still on alert for an argument.

  “Mia was a highly flawed defendant. Half the city hated her. The rest thought she was a shameless gold-digger.”

  “She wasn’t.” Marnie reflexively defended her friend.

  “Turns out not. And you never gave up on her. And you represented her brilliantly. So, I’m saying, you’re not an underachiever.”

  “Oh.” Marnie sorted through the conversation in her mind. It didn’t seem like Hannah was going to get hostile after all.

  “You should come and see us next week,” Hannah said.

  “For what?” Had Marnie missed something in the exchange?

  “To look at giving us some legal advice. You worked with Mia for years, so you know our business.”

  After a stunned moment, Marnie gathered her wits. “I specialize in family law.”

  “And it’s a family business.”

  Marnie supposed you could frame it that way.

  “So, will you take us on?” Hannah asked.

  “Uh, sure, yeah, I’ll come by next week.” Who would say no to a new client who owned a mansion and a fashion empire? Not Marnie, that was for sure.

  Hannah raised her glass again, and Marnie silently toasted to the most unlikely business relationship in the city.

  * * *

  * * *

  “I’ve said it all along—distraction, disruption then fallout.” Brodie Seaton, owner of West Slope Aviation, ended his sentence on a firm note of conviction. Then, obviously confident his message had been delivered, he leaned back against the workbench of the airplane hangar in Paradise
, Alaska, his arms crossed over his chest.

  Aircraft Maintenance Engineer Cobra Stanford didn’t disagree with his boss. He’d been skeptical about the Finding Paradise matchmaking scheme from the beginning. But it was above his paygrade and none of his business, so he’d kept his thoughts mostly to himself.

  “I’m planning to keep my distance,” he said now.

  “Wise,” Brodie said with a nod. “I wish there were more like you around.”

  Cobra swung the engine cowl shut on the twin otter bush plane—one of the largest in the fleet—secured it and stepped down off the ladder. The aircraft was fit and ready to make the run to Fairbanks tomorrow to pick up the twelve LA women.

  The light dimmed to dark orange through the high hangar windows as the sun set behind the mountains in the late September evening, making the fluorescent ceiling lights appear brighter.

  “Are the pilots drawing lots to see who takes the Viking Mine run?” he asked. Whoever took the lengthy flight to Viking was sure to miss the women’s big arrival.

  “I’m assigning T-Two and Xavier.”

  Cobra gave an ironic grin. “That’s going to go over well.”

  T-Two, Tobias Erickson, was a laid-back guy, but Xavier O’Keefe was as excited about the LA women’s visit as anyone in town.

  “They’re up in the rotation,” Brodie said. “Business is not going to be interrupted by this. Besides, they’ll be back before the evening’s over.”

  Cobra moved to the bench and took a clean shop rag from the pile to wipe his hands. “I can take the right seat if that helps.”

  Cobra had trained as a pilot in the military. Although he didn’t keep his hours current enough to serve as pilot in command, he could take the first officer’s seat when needed.

  “You’re just trying to get out of town.”

  Cobra gave a shrug. “Maybe.”

  Brodie grinned. “Nice of you to offer, but I’m not making concessions to this madness.”

  “You let them take over half your staff housing.” Cobra turned to rest his hips against the workbench, matching Brodie’s posture.

 

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