From New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Kristen Proby comes a new story in her Big Sky series…

Brooke’s Blooms has taken Cunningham Falls by surprise. The beautiful, innovative flower shop is trendy, with not only gorgeous flower arrangements, but also fun gifts for any occasion. This store is Brooke Henderson’s deepest joy, and it means everything to her, which shows in how completely she and her little shop have been embraced by the small community of Cunningham Falls.

So, when her landlord dies and Brody Chabot saunters through her door, announcing that the building has been sold, and will soon be demolished, Brooke knows that she’s in for the fight of her life. But she hasn’t gotten this far by sitting back and quietly doing what she’s told. Hustle is Brooke’s middle name, and she has no intention of losing this fight, no matter how tempting Brody’s smile -- and body -- is.

**Every 1001 Dark Nights novella is a standalone story. For new readers, it’s an introduction to an author’s world. And for fans, it’s a bonus book in the author’s series. We hope you'll enjoy each one as much as we do.



Brooke has everything wrapped up in her small floral business, with big plans to expand as soon as her sister opens her bakery next door. She loves living in Cunningham Falls and though it is a small town, she has worked hard to make her business a part of the downtown landscape. When her landlord dies, her plans change upon notice that the new owner is selling the property.

Brody Chabot wants to have nothing to do with Cunningham Falls, so when he inherits his father’s properties, he can’t get rid of them fast enough. But a visit to his hometown to wrap up business puts him face to face with his first love, and in the middle of a face off he has no intention of giving up on.

The history between Brooke and Brody was developed perfectly. It was clear that each had meant a lot to the other as children, and the heartbreak they both felt over Brody’s leaving was palpable. Their current chemistry lacks for nothing either, as the sparks fly almost immediately.

This was a quick story, with great background development for as quick as the story read. I always read these 1001 Nights novellas loving the characters and wishing I could have a whole novel for each of them. There were times the story was a little predictable, but though it often felt sweet and swoony, there was a darker edge to the backstory. For the length, there was so much going on that this quickly turned into a page turner.

  “Hello?” Brody calls through the screen.
  “Hey.” I hold it open, gesturing for him to come inside. “Enter at your own risk. I’m living inside an oven.”
  “Is your air conditioning broken?” he asks, but my eyes are on the cold beer and pizza in his hands.
  “No, I don’t have it. Are we having a party?”
 “The game’s on,” he says with a grin. “It’s been a while since we watched the Cubs together, so   I grabbed some game food and came right over.”
  I feel the smile slip over my lips. He thought to come here to watch the game with me.
  Brody always was the sweetest guy I knew. Seems that hasn’t changed.
  “Fun,” I reply. “I’ll grab some plates. We should sit on the floor.”
  “Why?”
  “It’s cooler down there.”
  He blinks at me, considering, and then shrugs one shoulder and sets the pizza in the middle of the floor, sits, and opens the box.
  “Thin crust pepperoni,” he says. “I hope this is still your favorite.”
  “It is. I’ll be right back.” I hurry into the kitchen to get the plates, and take a moment to lean on the countertop, my hand over my chest, to catch my breath. If he keeps this up, I’ll fall in love with him, and that can only lead to disaster.
  He’s leaving.
  “The Cubs are winning,” he calls from the other room. I grab our plates and join him, sitting a few feet away, and reach for a slice of pizza.
  “O’Shaughnessy has been badass this year.”
  “He’s badass every year,” I reply around a bite of food, and then laugh when he frowns at me.   “What? It’s true.”
  “Hmm.” He swigs his beer, and we fall into a comfortable silence, eating and watching baseball. “Oh, come on! You should have caught that!”
  “You always did get riled up watching baseball.”
  He smiles at me, then wipes his mouth with a napkin. “There’s no other way to watch it. God, you weren’t kidding. It’s damn hot in here.”
  “I know, I’m sorry. We could go somewhere else to watch the game.”
  “No, I like having you to myself,” he replies, surprising me. “I’ll just take my shirt off.”
  Before I can find enough brain cells to form a sentence, he whips his shirt over his head and tosses it onto the couch.
  Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Times a million.
  I blink rapidly, trying not to stare at the tanned, toned, muscley goodness that is Brody Chabot, but it’s impossible.
  He’s like the most glorious work of art in the world, and I’d challenge anyone to be able to look away.
  His arms, his abs, his freaking shoulders, flex as he moves to grab another slice of pizza. How he can eat while all of my synapses are exploding one by one is beyond me.
  I think I just lost all bodily function.
  And I haven’t even seen him all the way naked. This is just the upper half.
  I bite my lip and take a sip of my beer, trying to distract myself.