by Beth K. Vogt
Advance Praise for Almost Like Being in Love
“I love Vogt’s layered and masterful romances. Almost Like Being in Love was one of those stories you don’t want to end, and I lingered over every page enjoying the intriguing characters. Highly recommended!”
—Colleen Coble, author of Mermaid Moon and the Rock Harbor series
“Almost Like Being in Love is the perfect beach read. Beth K. Vogt delivers a charming romance with a sigh-worthy happily-ever-after ending.”
—Rachel Hauck, New York Times bestselling author of The Wedding Chapel
“In Almost Like Being in Love, Beth Vogt once again introduces us to relatable, heart-tugging characters. Caron and Kade are struggling with broken dreams, with both their careers and their love lives in upheaval. I loved the thread of hope laced through this story and the reminder that sometimes the best things in life are waiting for us behind the most unexpected doors. Another keeper for your bookshelf!”
—Melissa Tagg, author of Like Never Before and One Enchanted Christmas
“Beth Vogt is an author I look to for not only a delightful story, but one that moves me and stays in my heart. Almost Like Being in Love is no exception. Moving, romantic, fun—a great way to spend the weekend!”
—Susan May Warren, RITA Award–winning author of the Christiansen Family series
“It’s always a pleasure to read a Beth K. Vogt book. Authentic characters with realistic struggles we can all identify with bring her well-written words to life in this touching story about finding love where you least expect it and finding the courage to follow your heart. Almost Like Being in Love is another winner that fans and new readers alike will thoroughly enjoy.”
—Catherine West, award-winning author of The Things We Knew
“Love is complicated. Family relationships are complicated. In Almost Like Being in Love, Beth K. Vogt explores the collision of the two with a soft touch and deft hand. Her novel sings with grace and the journey to learn who we are and how to stand on our own. And how to do that while risking all to discover who we are and a love that will sustain us. A beautiful novel that I inhaled.”
—Cara Putman, award-winning author of Shadowed by Grace and Where Treetops Glisten
“Author Beth Vogt has done it again—a story you can curl up with and crawl into. Her characters are so real, I wish we could hang out. She has a permanent place on my favorite’s shelf.”
—Edie Melson, director of Blue Ridge Mountains Christian Writers Conference
Praise for Crazy Little Thing Called Love, Book 1 of the Destination Wedding Series
“Second chances at love, storm-chasing danger, and a destination wedding? I’m in! Beth K. Vogt’s newest book, Crazy Little Thing Called Love, hits all the right notes, touching on more serious subject matter without losing any of Beth’s signature charm. This is sure to be a favorite addition to any fan’s Christian romance library.”
—Carla Laureano, RITA Award–winning author of Five Days in Skye and London Tides
“In Crazy Little Thing Called Love, Beth Vogt shows us that indeed love is crazy, in the best possible way! This story had everything I’ve come to expect from a Beth Vogt novel: high-quality writing, a deep spiritual journey, and a poignant love story. Throw in the fun of a destination wedding and you have yourself a story that is sure to touch hearts and entertain readers. I can’t wait for the next installment!”
—Katie Ganshert, award-winning author of The Art of Losing Yourself
“Curl your toes into the sand and relish the delicious warmth of Destin, Florida, in Vogt’s Crazy Little Thing Called Love. A must-read with engaging characters, rich scenery, and the high tension of a hurricane that carries us into love, forgiveness, and the joy of discovering treasures once lost.”
—Katherine Reay, author of Lizzy & Jane
“Logan Hollister is a storm chaser by profession, but he’s never been able to tame the storms in his personal life. Crazy Little Thing Called Love is an exciting, romantic adventure as Logan and his ex-wife, Vanessa, are forced to confront both a hurricane and the emotional storm that rages between them. Beth Vogt takes readers on a heart-pounding journey through both the present and the past even as her characters try to sort out their future. Second chances are a rare gift, and Beth unwraps this one perfectly.”
—Melanie Dobson, award-winning author of Shadows of Ladenbrooke Manor and Chateau of Secrets
“Beth Vogt has done it again! Her heart-tugging characters and writing make you feel like you’re right there on a sunny—and sometimes stormy!—Florida coast. I especially loved the underlying themes of mistakes and regrets turned to joy and new hope. Another winner!”
—Melissa Tagg, author of From the Start and Three Little Words
“Second-chance love at its crazy best! Beth Vogt is a master at wringing tears from the eyes and sleep from the soul in a tender love story that both heals and haunts.”
—Julie Lessman, award-winning author of the Daughters of Boston, Winds of Change, and Heart of San Francisco series
“Beth K. Vogt’s amazing ability to create complex, true-to-life characters with realistic flaws and emotions keeps me hungering for her novels before they’re even available for sale. The depth of her stories pulls me in, leaving me to ponder the spiritual truth she has woven into the plot long after I’ve finished the book. Beth’s novels are automatic buys for my keeper shelf.”
—Lisa Jordan, award-winning author of Lakeside Redemption
“Beth Vogt is a master at capturing the sometimes stormy emotions of the human heart. In Crazy Little Thing Called Love, Vogt takes the reader on Vanessa and Logan’s road back to each other—a journey that is both deeply felt and realistic. She makes us believe in the power of second chances, all the while reminding us that it’s never too late to have faith in our first love.”
—Kristy Cambron, author of The Butterfly and the Violin and A Sparrow in Terezin
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To Rachelle Gardner, whom I am thankful to call both my literary agent and my friend:
Your influence runs deep in my life and I am a better person for knowing you. Here’s to pursuing dreams together for many years to come—yours and mine both.
ONE
A new day—another opportunity to prove herself to her boss.
Of course, Caron had complicated the whole “prove herself” challenge by working for her father.
She leaned back in the driver’s seat of her car, inhaling the faint citrus scent of Armor All lingering in her SUV. From the hubcaps to the dials of the CD player, the car gleamed. Dash and door handles wiped down with cleaner. Windows streak-free. Floors vacuumed so that not a candy wrapper or Hot Tamale lurked beneath her car seats. At this moment, she sat in the perfect car for a Realtor to transport clients to see properties.
Not that her father conducted weekly inspections of his employees’ cars. But he could inspect hers, if he wanted to.
Caron unbuckled her seat belt with a sharp metallic click. Time to get to work. It was almost six o’clock in the morning. Showing up before sunrise might earn a brief nod of acknowledgment from her father, but only if he’d been there to see her early entrance into the empty building.
She paused in the reception area long enough to place a fresh arrangement of bright purple irises and vivid blue cornflowers in the vase on the glass-topped coffee table, then switched the outdated co
pies of Real Simple and HGTV magazines with more current ones. She returned to her SUV to grab the bags of pillows she’d purchased over the weekend. Removing the teal and muted silver ones set along the back of the sofa, she added the circular pops of yellow, white, and royal blue. The final touch—a single spray of cornflowers added to the tall glass bottle on the receptionist’s desk.
Her father might not ever acknowledge her attention to detail, but their—his—clients appreciated the welcoming touches. And the coming summer season was the perfect time to update the look in the reception area.
Once she was in her office, the minutes disappeared into the silence, her thermos of cold sweet tea ignored on the corner of her desk as she studied the new homes on the MLS list. She e-mailed a prospective buyer, a military spouse flying in midweek to house-hunt, attaching photos of a few of the houses she had in mind for the family of five. Later today, she’d go visit some of the homes she’d marked down and begin mapping out the showings.
“You heading into the morning staff meeting?” Jackie appeared in the open doorway to Caron’s office, holding a mug of coffee emblazoned with the company logo.
Caron rested her chin on her hand, resisting the urge to rub her eyes and smudge her mascara. “Is it almost nine o’clock already?”
“Yep.” Jackie nodded toward the conference room, causing her sleek black ponytail to sway. “I think your dad—I mean the boss—brought in some sort of motivational speaker this morning. I only got a quick look, but there’s something familiar about her.”
“What? My father didn’t mention anything during Sunday’s barbecue.”
Of course, he didn’t have to tell Caron everything—or anything—just because they worked together. But there were the very rare times they talked business, sitting in his office at the back of the house until her mom came looking for them and demanded that they stop.
“Well, we won’t know what’s going on until the meeting starts.” Jackie took a step back. “And we both know the boss likes his employees to be punctual.”
Caron slipped on her floral heels, organizing the top of her desk before joining Jackie and making their way to the conference room. “Did you have a good Memorial Day weekend?”
“Spent it out on the bayou, water-skiing. What about you?”
“The traditional barbecue with my family and Alex’s family.” Caron lowered her voice as they entered the conference room, nodding to her father. “Alex didn’t get called away once on an emergency.”
“All the air conditioners on the Panhandle managed to stay functioning for a day, huh?”
Caron muffled her laugh with her hand, turning it into a cough as her father took his place at the head of the long table. It was their Monday-morning staff meeting—only on Tuesday morning, thanks to the holiday weekend. Time to focus, to be professional.
Caron used the logo-branded pen to surround the list of topics on the paper in front of her with various-sized arrows as her father worked his way through the list.
• Scheduling for Continuing Education Courses
• Agents’ New Listings
• Open House Weekly Caravan
• Office Total Production for Month/Quarter/Year
• Agents’ Production for Month/Quarter/Year
“I wanted to single out one agent in particular this morning—Caron Hollister.”
At the mention of her name, Caron dropped her pen so that it rolled across the table with a clatter of plastic against glass, her attention pulled away from her doodling.
“Congratulations on surpassing the proposed quota in sales not only for the month, but for the quarter.” A brief smile creased her father’s face. “If you keep this up, you’re likely to be in the top ten percent of sales in the country by the end of the year.”
A flush heated her neck, rising to her face—the round of applause from her colleagues mere background noise to her father’s public praise. Yes, the sales meant she’d satisfied her clients, but she’d also made her father proud, which made all the early mornings and late nights worth it.
“And now that we’ve discussed the usual business agenda—” Her father smoothed his royal-blue tie against his starched white dress shirt. “—I have an important announcement that affects the future of this company.”
As he spoke, a petite woman, who appeared no more than ten years older than Caron, entered the room and came to stand beside him. She was all polish and poise. Immaculate deep red dress that almost shouted designer-made. Mile-high heels. Airbrushed makeup. Blond hair cut into a classic bob. Bleached-white smile.
Wait . . . who was she? Caron scrolled through her brain, trying to put a name to the vaguely familiar too-perfect face.
Nothing.
A hush settled over the room as if everyone took a collective breath and held it. No exhale.
Wait for it . . . wait for it . . .
“I’d like to introduce Nancy Miller. I’m sure you’re all familiar with her reputation along the Emerald Coast as a well-respected Realtor. After some lengthy negotiations, I’m very pleased to inform you that Nancy is joining Hollister Realty . . . as my partner.”
The room remained quiet, as if people weren’t sure if a round of applause was in order. Caron gripped the fabric edge of her chair to keep from bolting to her feet. His partner? Her father didn’t share his business with anyone. Caron stared down through the clear glass table. Maybe if she let go of the edge of the chair, she’d fall through the glass like some modern-day Alice. Fall, fall, fall into some other world where things made sense.
Her father’s voice chained her to the how-can-this-be-true reality.
“As I’m sure you’re all aware, Nancy has a thriving real estate firm in Navarre. I’ve watched her for years and I respect her business prowess and all she’s accomplished in the past decade. We both realized that together we’d be a realty force to be reckoned with.”
Her father was standing there . . . praising Nancy Miller . . . announcing she would be his new partner . . . only minutes after he’d finally acknowledged Caron was successful—on her way to possibly earning national acclaim.
“This is going to mean great things for our companies. A name change, for one. We’ll become Hollister Realty Group. We’re already working on our ad campaign to announce our merger and our new name.” Her father beamed like a man announcing the birth of his firstborn. “At this time, no one needs to worry about any adjustments to our staffs.”
Around the room, the employees relaxed in their chairs, a collective exhale whispering through the air.
“As a matter of fact, we may need to hire additional employees. But that’s all to be determined. This morning, I just wanted to share that today’s a new beginning for our company.”
Applause splattered around the room.
“To celebrate, I requested champagne and cake. I’m not sure what the delay is.” Her father motioned Nancy forward. “I also wanted Nancy to say a few words and to give her the chance to tell you her vision for our future. While she does that, I’ll slip out and see what’s the holdup on the bubbly.”
As a wave of laughter flowed among the employees, Nancy worked the room like a pro, starting off with a joke about her early years as a Realtor. Caron slipped from her chair and caught up with her father in the hallway.
“What was that?” Her words were a timid verbal tap on his shoulder.
Her father didn’t slow his stride. “What was what?”
“That.” Caron motioned back toward the conference room. “That announcement.”
“Just like I said—it’s the future of this company.”
“I was at the house two days ago for lunch and you never said a word.”
“That was a family gathering. You found out today, with the rest of the employees, Caron.”
“But I’m your daughter.”
“Exactly. At home, you’re my daughter. Here, you’re my employee like everyone else.” He stopped outside the kitchen, where two of the receptionist
s arranged clear plastic champagne glasses and plastic plates with slices of cake on two rolling carts. “And I decided it was best you found out today.”
“How long have you been planning this?”
“Six months, maybe a little longer than that.”
Six months? For a moment, the scene in front of her blurred—the receptionists pouring streams of champagne into tiny cups seemed to fade in and out. “You didn’t think I would want to know? Didn’t realize how this would affect me?”
“My decision affects you the same way it affects any other Realtor who works for me. It’s a wise move for the business.”
Caron’s fingers worried the collar of her linen dress. “Dad, you made Nancy Miller your partner. You’ve always said that this company was yours—a family-owned business—”
“And it still is. I’ve retained majority ownership in the business.”
“But Nancy Miller isn’t family—”
“No, she’s not. She’s my partner. And I chose to expand my business by making the best decision for this company.”
Nancy Miller. Her father’s partner.
And where did that leave her?
Caron swallowed past the sharp ache slicing the back of her throat. This was not the time to give in to emotion. Her father had taught her the importance of remaining calm when negotiating. “But . . . you knew my dream was to . . . to one day . . .”
Her father stepped away from the other women, blocking them as he turned to face her. Lowered his voice, his gray eyes glacial. “Dreams don’t get handed to you. Having the Hollister name doesn’t guarantee you anything. I make business decisions based on what’s best now as well as in the future. Granted, you’ve surprised me by settling in here and proving to be a good Realtor. But Nancy Miller has years of experience that you don’t have. She’s rocketed past anyone’s expectations for her success. A good employee doesn’t question her boss’s decisions—in public or private. Given time, you’ll realize this was a wise decision.”