Wrong for Him

By Christi Barth

Amelia Kirkland’s been head-over-heels for Teague Sullivan forever. Not that she’s ever let him know—as her brother’s best friend, he’s officially off-limits. That’s even more true once they become partners in rehabbing a historic inn. She can’t risk what she’s building with her brother and her friends just to fulfill a lifelong crush. Can she?

When Teague left the Special Forces, he didn’t know what would come next. Until his best friend, Alex, won an inn as a lottery prize and made him a partner. It’s his shot at getting everything he’s always wanted. Except for Alex’s beautiful sister. Amelia’s friendship was a lifeline while he was deployed, but that’s a line he can’t cross. He owes his friend too much to betray his trust. Now, though? Working and living with her every day? He wants more.

If their secret romance is discovered, it could ruin everything before the inn has a chance. But does their one shot at happiness require them to break all the rules?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tule Publishing
• Release date: Sep 27, 2021
• ISBN: 9781954894303

Christi Barth

Christi Barth writes sassy, sexy and smart contemporary romances. She earned a Masters degree in vocal performance and embarked upon a career on the stage. A love of romance then drew her to wedding planning. Ultimately she succumbed to her lifelong love of books and now writes contemporary romance. Christi is lives in Maryland with her husband.

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Acknowledgments

To all my readers, thank you so very much for sticking with the entire Love Lottery series. This is my first series set in my home state of Maryland. I love sharing its awesomeness with the world. The Three Oaks Inn is modeled on the historic Brampton Inn on Maryland’s Eastern Shore (go visit—it is delightful!) but all the foibles and problems of it are purely my imagination. The Civil War era couple is not real, but they do represent a reality of tragic love that was all too real—not just in Maryland, but up and down the coast. Ooh, and the Pirate and Wenches weekend is an annual festival in Rock Hall.

This book contained a little bit more of me than usual. The description of Amelia’s anxiety attack is, well, true-to-life. I’ve experienced anxiety for years, and want to offer hope to anyone out there who also does: it has taken lots of hard work (practice, in this case, does not make perfect—it just makes things better) but my ability to deal with anxiety has improved tremendously. If you are experiencing anything similar, please seek help—there are myriad options, some as simple as breathing techniques. It can get better!

Huge thanks to Jane Porter for letting me bring this series to life when it had been stagnating in my head for years. This was yet another book written completely in quarantine—but I had no problem churning it out because I had my husband locked down with me every day, reminding me just how joyous true love is, no matter what the situation. Mary Vaughan, Erin Watson & Robyn Neeley have been superb write-in partners over Zoom, helping me stay on track and stay motivated.

Prologue

December 25

"That was the best Christmas dinner ever," Alex Kirkland said, patting the red tie draped over his stomach.

Amelia scowled at her brother. "You say that every year. The compliment loses its potency if it’s automatic. Especially since I haven’t changed a thing. So it can’t be the best ever. At most, it can be just as good as last year."

Was that cranky? Yep.

But the joy of sharing the holiday dinner with only the three people closest to her in the world meant that she didn’t have to be on her best behavior. She could be real, instead. And real absolutely included poking at her older brother.

Well, my last decade of Christmas dinners were in a tent in Afghanistan or Iraq. Teague Sullivan, her brother’s best friend, raised his wineglass in a silent toast. "So Alex may be blowing smoke, but I can unequivocally state that this was the best one I’ve had in years. Thanks, Amelia."

She warmed at the compliment. Sure, comparing her to the cooks in his Army Special Forces unit was a pretty low bar. But any compliment from Teague set her pulse thrumming and her cheeks heating.

Because of her stupid redhead’s complexion.

And because she’d had a crush on him for her entire life.

Everleigh nodded, sending her long dark hair flipping over her shoulders. Because pretty much any motion she made involved her hair. It was delicious. And I know how hard you worked to put it all together. Mostly because I was right next to you, helping.

That’s right. Ever gets half the credit, everyone. Amelia threw an arm around her bestie’s shoulders.

Alex cleared his throat. All I meant is that the potatoes, the green bean casserole, the yams and ham and pie—it’s all just like Mom used to make.

Really? It was what Amelia was going for, every year. Ever since she was eleven and their parents had been killed. Chances were good that those first few years had not been anywhere close to excellent. There’d been the time when she didn’t peel the yams. Oh, and put Christmas tree Peeps on top instead of marshmallows, turning the whole dish nuclear-waste green.

Alex’s eyes, the pale blue of the ice on the edges of the Allegheny River, beamed at her. It tastes exactly the same and makes me think of her. So, thanks, sis.

I can’t so much remember, for sure, what her meal tasted like, she admitted. It stung. Sense memories were supposed to be the strongest. But fourteen years later, her nose and taste buds couldn’t remember if their mom had used more cinnamon or nutmeg in the cranberry apple pie.

Well, you’ve eaten your potatoes more years than you ate hers at this point. It makes sense. And I know it might bore you guys— Alex gestured at Everleigh and Teague —but I’m really glad you keep up the tradition of this meal.

What if you’d gone all fancy and made some weird French thing? Or made lasagna—which I love—but should never be served on Christmas? Teague shuddered in horror. Which made the jingle bell she’d forced around his neck—if he put up with the jangle of dog tags all these years, he could wear a bell for twelve hours to be festive—tinkle. Christmas means ham and potatoes, carols on the speaker, pine candles, and a tree. That’s what I wanted for my first holiday as a civilian, and you delivered. This dinner is the only thing keeping Christmas from sucking.

Ever stood to start clearing. And, evidently, to thwack Teague across the back of the head. Hey. Don’t talk about Christmas like that. The four of us are here, in one piece, together. That ought to be enough of a celebration.

Don’t pretend you’re not materialistic, Ever. You’ve never met a purse you didn’t want to buy or a necklace you didn’t want to wear. Wouldn’t you have been happier if there’d been a shoebox under that tree with your name on it? Instead of zero presents?

Yes. Of course. She stacked the plates with a decisive clink. But it isn’t like Santa forgot us. We agreed on no presents due to… she bit her lip before continuing …recent events.

"Jesus, Ever—it’s not like saying Voldemort’s name out loud. Things won’t get any worse if you say that your jerk of a cheating boyfriend fired you and kicked you out of the apartment."

I’m trying not to give Randall any mental space whatsoever, she murmured. Except that Amelia knew that wasn’t entirely true. Because Ever had shared her bed for the last two nights and had cried herself to sleep.

Teague barreled on. "And that Alex got unjustly fired from the hotel and lost his suite there."

Alex shoved back from the table to collect the empty wineglasses. Hey, I’ll find a new place to live. It’s just impossible to get appointments to do walk-throughs at the holidays. Nobody wants to take time away from wrapping and baking to let me assess the strength of a showerhead.

Holding up his hand to prevent Alex from explaining any more, Teague continued his litany of pathetic-ness. "That Amelia got downsized out of her job and is about to lose this place for not affording the jacked-up price of it going condo. And that I just mustered out and have no place to live besides Amelia’s couch and no job prospect that fits my special skills involving sniper acuity and bombs."

My version used way less words, Everleigh said with a sniff and a hair toss.

Teague guffawed. You’ve got me there.

They’d all put in an effort to make it a fun Christmas. Amelia had made a house rule that you had to sing a carol to gain admittance to the bathroom. Teague managed to prove it was possible to toss red and green M&M’s into Alex’s mouth while standing at complete opposite ends of her apartment.

But it felt weird not sharing presents, not surprising each other. Not feeling like it was the culmination of a great year. Not making plans over dinner for how epically they’d celebrate New Year’s Eve.

Amelia couldn’t let Teague cap the night with a recitation of their woes. He’d been factual, sure. Things…sucked right now. For all of them. Didn’t mean they had to wallow in it. Looking toward the future was the only way to not be drowned by despair.

"Look, things are bleak. For all of us. But it’s only temporary. Amelia forced a smile she didn’t feel—classic ‘fake it til you make it’—and tried to raise her voice with hopefulness. In a year, I’ll bet we look back and laugh about how our lives imploded at exactly the same time. Because in a year, things will be much, much better. I feel it."

Teague gave her a look. A look of supreme pity. Like a tween would give a seven-year-old who insisted that Santa couldn’t be his parents. Then he dropped a casual kiss on the top of her head. A brotherly kiss. Something he’d done their entire lives, mirroring Alex’s gestures of affection.

Oh, how she loathed those casual, zero-heat pecks.

It wasn’t death by a thousand cuts. It was an absolute reassurance that he’d never see her as a fully-grown, boobs-’n’-all member of the opposite sex, by a thousand chemistry-free pecks.

Each one laid another brick in the you’re like a sister to me wall between them.

Each one was a fifty-yard, unimpeded drive directly into the Friend Zone.

Then Teague cradled the pie plate to his chest like it was a precious newborn. I feel like I’m going to take maybe an hour break, and then finish off this pie unless anyone else lays claim to a piece, right here, right now.

No break, Alex bellowed from right behind Teague. It made the hardened soldier jump, and the women giggle. Amelia and Ever cooked all afternoon while I kicked your ass in NFL Xbox. That means you and I are on cleanup duty.

Fair enough.

Oh geez, she couldn’t love her brother more. Thanks, Alex.

Like I said, thanks for upholding the traditions.

They matter. Because you’re all I’ve got. Having been a technical orphan since age eleven, Amelia was used to the idea. She didn’t get too worked up about it anymore. But the holidays always brought out her weepy side. Probably because of all the commercials, movies and TV shows that depicted jolly, enormous family gatherings.

And you can’t do anything to shake me, he responded, as always. Once their parents died and Alex became her guardian, they’d gone through some, ah, rough patches. Which was putting it mildly. But no matter what she did and how long he yelled at her, they always finished by repeating those two phrases to each other, to smooth things over.

Amelia’s phone vibrated across the mantel. Everleigh slapped a palm on it. No. No way. This is put our feet up and gossip time. Plus, in case you hadn’t noticed, it’s a holiday. Nobody should be emailing at nine p.m.

Exactly. That’s why it must be important.

"Sure. If you count an automatic raise on your credit card limit important. Oh, wait—right now, maybe that would be." Ever slid the phone down to her.

Amelia swiped open the notification.

Then she started running in place. Jumping and running. Then she clutched the phone to her chest and shrieked. Because ‘important’ didn’t begin to describe the email.

What? What is it? Ever asked.

From the clatter and splash, Alex dropped the scrub brush into the roasting pan. He and Teague hot-footed it in from the kitchen. Are you okay?

No. I’m not okay. She twirled in a circle. "I’m fantastic."

For God’s sake, then don’t scream like you’re being axe-murdered, Alex grumbled.

As opposed to the very specific and quite different sound of being machete-murdered? Everleigh snarked back.

Amelia grabbed her brother’s hands and tried to make him jump with her. Alex wasn’t a jump and squeal type of guy. He was focused and responsible and rarely let it all hang out.

So he did not, in fact, jump with her.

She could change that, though. Alex. Merry Christmas.

Yeah, you said that twelve hours ago when we started the day.

No, I’m giving you your present now. Amelia pushed the phone into his hands, but he wouldn’t take it.

We agreed to no presents this year.

Except for those lottery tickets we bought last night, Teague said with a smirk.

Yeah, we bought those for half an hour of playing what-if after Amelia gave me the first one. Pretty sure we ran through all the scenarios last night. Alex scrubbed a hand through his dark hair. "What if we win the lottery for the inn and there’s a treasure chest hidden in the attic? What if we win the lottery and discover that the president secretly celebrates every anniversary there?"

"Here’s one more, though. What if I told you that…you won?" Amelia let her jaw fall open in smiling shock.

Very funny.

Her pulse had sped up so much she felt dizzy. Look. She waved the phone in his face. The email just came through. That first ticket I bought you—I put my contact info on it, out of habit. You won. You own the Three Oaks Inn now!

And then her staid, respectable, pulled-together brother sank in a heap to the floor as if she’d just kneecapped him with the news. That inn…it’s gotta be over one hundred and fifty years old. Dripping with history and potential.

I guess. On this coast, everything was old. She had no idea how old. Just that the drawing of the sprawling brick inn had been pretty.

Alex gaped up at her. It looked huge.

Oh, yeah.

And it’s mine— he slapped his hand against his heart —because of a five-dollar lottery ticket you bought at a coffee shop yesterday. As a joke.

She poked his thigh with her toe. Clad in her red socks covered with white reindeer. No, I bought it so you could have a dream to cling to for twenty-four hours. Except that now you get to keep it. For real. Forever.

His head lurched to the side with an audible snap. "How do you know it’s my ticket? We went back last night and bought three more, one for each of us."

Dude. You’ve been managing a hotel for years. Us? Teague hooked a thumb at himself and Everleigh. Not so much. We all wrote your name and Amelia’s email on the extra tickets.

Everleigh nodded. Yeah, it was Amelia’s present to you, after all. That was the whole point.

"No. It’s ours. It belongs to all four of us, equally. Alex scrambled to his feet to grab the pieces of cardstock with numbers and the drawing of the brick inn they’d tossed on the key table last night. C’mon, we don’t actually know whose ticket won. So let’s say that we all did."

Teague’s hazel eyes turned skeptical. Really?

Now Alex was light on his feet, practically floating across the floor to his friend. "Why not, man with no job, no house, and no plans? We’re all either jobless or about to be. We’re all either without a place to crash, or about to be. This is the perfect solution. We go there and run it. Together."

Everleigh stabbed a finger into the air. Go where, exactly?

Um… Amelia scrolled through the email again. Her hand was shaking, so it took a few tries. Maryland. Chestertown, Maryland.

Never heard of it.

Me, neither. She tossed the phone on the couch without bothering to open Google Maps. Specifics were for later. This moment was for wallowing in almost unbelievable joy. But Maryland’s south of Pittsburgh, so at least we know it’ll be marginally warmer? Less snowy?

I can’t do this by myself. No matter what, that place needs more than one person to staff it. Alex threw his arms around Teague and Everleigh and jerked his chin to get Amelia to close up the huddle. Why pay strangers when I can spend every day hanging with the people who mean the most to me in the entire world?

We’re inn owners. Everleigh looked dazzled, her blue eyes a little unfocused.

Dude, you’ve always had my back. Teague’s voice was hoarse. This…sharing this opportunity is…above and beyond.

Alex locked his gaze on Amelia. He wasn’t fuzzy with shock anymore. No, his eyes were wide, nostrils flared, and anticipation tightening every inch of his face. Almost like he’d done three espresso shots and was about to parachute out of a plane.

After being blackballed by the Orion, I didn’t think I’d be able to get any hotel to hire me. Owning my own hotel—that’s a dream that was twenty years down the road. You just gave me a chance at a new life, Amelia.

You just gave all of us a fresh start. This is the best Christmas ever. Pulling out of the huddle, Everleigh raced for the kitchen. I’m pulling out the champagne we were saving for New Year’s!

Alex ran after her. Let me open it. You get scared of the pop and take ten tries to push the cork out.

Teague cradled Amelia’s shoulders in his big hands. What you just did for your brother, for us, is amazing. Thank you, Ames. He kissed her forehead and folded her into an embrace unlike any he’d ever given her before. It was more tender. Serious. Intense. Then he gave her the ultimately platonic Eskimo kiss with his nose and headed to the kitchen.

Oh.

Oh, wow.

It’d been one thing to have Teague crash with her for a month. But living with him and working with him? For the foreseeable future?

How was she supposed to ignore her crush on him when he’d always be right there?

What had she done?

Chapter One

"Why do we have to move you on the hottest day of the year?" Everleigh whined as she shifted the box up to her shoulder.

Hey, we moved into this place back in January on one of the coldest days. Teague grinned as he took the stairs two at a time. Moving Ames in July brings it full circle.

Amelia did not intend to complain about the weather for this move. Because it was one that consisted of three suitcases, five boxes, and a windowsill’s worth of plants she’d been nurturing along. Her brother and Teague were, ah, sufficiently muscled to make this move fast and easy.

Ever just liked to make a drama out of doing anything physical. She’d probably use it to wheedle a backrub out of her hot police chief boyfriend tonight.

Lucky girl.

But Amelia didn’t want Ever to be in a mood. That would be heavier and stickier than the Maryland humidity. C’mon—we left sooo much of our stuff in storage back in Pittsburgh. I’d call this less of a move and more of a scooch.

I’m sorry about this, Amelia, Alex apologized…for the zillionth time. He set down her suitcase on the wide balcony overlooking the swimming pool. Because her new ‘apartment’ was the top floor of the inn’s pool house.

The bottom floor was for guests, with bathrooms, a kitchen/bar area and a hang-out room for people to seek cover from rain or excess heat. It’d be great for small parties, too, once they booked some.

The top floor was now what they grandiosely called the owner’s suite. Aka Amelia’s new home.

"Don’t apologize to her. Teague put his key in the lock and pushed open the door with a sigh as dramatic as anything Everleigh produced. I’m the one who has to give up kicking it in the most rocking bachelor pad of all time."

Wow. Ever squinted at him with her bright blue eyes as she dropped her box just to the left of the door. "Do I need to buy you a Spotify subscription? You have got to stop listening to the local radio station. That kid’s vocabulary is dumbing you down."

Chestertown was small. Small enough that they had a weekly paper more full of social announcements than news. Also small enough that they had their own radio station currently with a rotating staff of high school kids for the summer, while the real DJ was on a hiatus.

Rumor was the hiatus was actually a three-month stint in rehab, but it lined up well with summer break, so nobody complained much. But listening to sixteen-year-olds try to do morning patter was…painful. Most days Amelia literally wanted to hand them five dollars to buy a new word. Any word that wasn’t part of the thirty they seemed limited to.

Then Amelia felt bitchy. Wasn’t that supposed to be the charm of settling into a small town? The…quirks? The uniquely local oddities?

This is not a bachelor pad. Alex’s voice boomed through the open floor plan. It is a strategic housing decision to always have one of us on hand and easily reachable should a guest have needs.

Oh, geez. Alex was lecturing again.

It was becoming more and more obvious when Sydney, his girlfriend, was traveling for her job. He slipped back into his very serious work mode.

Amelia set her plants on the wooden floor just below the window. She had to jimmy her brother out of this guilt trip. Alex, we all agreed to this. You didn’t browbeat me into moving in with Teague. We made this decision as a team. Plus, he’s like my brother. We get along just fine.

Perfectly ‘fine.’

Perfectly friendly and ‘fine.’

Better than siblings because they didn’t squabble.

The thing was? Amelia didn’t want things to be ‘fine’ between her and Teague.

I’m still sorry. Alex gave a friendly tug at her long red braid. As he’d done their entire lives. Even though she’d been ready for him to stop doing it, to stop treating her like a baby sister, for about fifteen years. But you know that the cottages we lived in while we rehabbed the place are worth a ton in nightly rates. We can’t give that up in our high season. And our reservations still don’t look great for the fall. We’ve got to save every cent possible. There’s no other way.

While she didn’t want him wallowing in guilt—Amelia still wanted to poke at him a teensy bit. Since it was their thing. You mean now that you and Everleigh conveniently fell in love and moved in with your respective honey bunnies? Should I have called shotgun on falling in love so that Ever would have to room with Teague?

Shoulda, woulda, coulda. Her bestie smiled smugly as she flopped down on the coral and white striped couch. Clearly Ever was done with the helping portion of the move. You met Matt the same day I did. You didn’t call dibs on that delicious piece of uniformed hotness. You snooze, you lose.

Matt’s the chief. He doesn’t wear a uniform.

He does when I ask him to. And this time her smile was distinctly more than smug. He just doesn’t wear it for very long.

Alex put his fingers in his ears. Stop. Quit it. You two may be twenty-five, but you’re still off-limits to the opposite sex in my mind. No innuendos allowed.

And wasn’t that the problem in a nutshell?

Alex would forever see her as his baby sister. And so would Teague. Amelia had accepted that truth years ago. But accepting it didn’t keep it from stinging every time she was reminded of the sad fact.

Teague stacked the box Ever had given up on by Amelia’s bedroom door. Especially because we’re about to spend the afternoon with Matt on his sailboat. A man’s day. Out on the water. Don’t make us feel weird about him.

For crying out loud. Was this another unspoken rule in the bromance the guys had struck up with Matt and James—also ex-military and high school shop teacher—within weeks of moving here? You two are prudes. You’re not like our big brothers, you’re like our grandfathers.

Alex tugged on her braid. Again. In that we respect you both and want to keep you atop glass pedestals protected from all harm?

That makes us sound like modern versions of Snow White. Everleigh crinkled her nose in distaste. And you guys like creepy perv collectors.

Did you not hear how I led with our utmost respect for you and your brilliance and your unparalleled work ethic?

Her brother was impossible. And she loved him to pieces anyway. "You’re laying it on too thick. I know you guys are eager to get out on the water. Thanks for schlepping my stuff over. Now scoot. We’ll unpack."

Teague already had snared a cooler he must’ve pre-packed. After grabbing a camo cap from the hook by the door, he gave a thumbs-up. See? You’re already the perfect roommate. This is gonna work out great. Catch you guys later.

Moments later, he and Alex were gone. Amelia put her hands on her hips and surveyed her new digs. They’d put redoing it at the bottom of the priority list, since no guests would see it. So the couch was comfy but creaked if your nose so much as twitched. Teague had—of course—installed a television on the wall to the hallway that led to the bedrooms and bathroom. Aside from the two armchairs they’d slip-covered to match the couch, that was it.

There were stools along the near side of the island that delineated the edge of the kitchen. No artwork. No homey, cozy touches. It was a big step backward from the beautiful cottage she and Everleigh had been sharing. But nobody said this first year of inn ownership and intense rehab was supposed to be fun.

Hey!

Amelia whirled to face Everleigh. Oh, sorry, I zoned out there for a second. Just deciding where to start with making this place less of a bachelor pad and more of an actual home.

Please. This wasn’t the first time today that you zoned out. You’ve been off all morning. Quiet. What’s going on with you?

Amelia and Everleigh told each other everything, more or less. That’s what happened when you’d been best friends since elementary school. But she’d never told Ever about her crush on Teague.

She’d been embarrassed, at first. There was a seven-year age gap between her and Alex, so liking his friends was anathema, when they were younger. Then, once puberty set in and her crush was impossible to ignore, Amelia had known that it was equally impossible to ever act upon.

So this was the one secret she’d kept from her friend.

Today had frazzled her just enough to want to finally share it. I’m, ah, less than thrilled about moving in with Teague.

Really? You’ve seemed so accepting of the idea from the start.

"Because I’m a partner in this business. I know the cottage has to make us a profit. The reason behind moving in isn’t the problem."

Ohhhhh. Everleigh nodded sympathetically. Is Teague driving you crazy?

Sort of. Just not the way you mean. She took a deep breath as she plopped on the couch next to Ever. Pulled a throw pillow onto her lap to clutch. "He always drives me crazy. Because I’m crazy about him."

Ever batted her eyelashes in triple time. "Whoa. You like him, like him?"

It was beyond ridiculous to revert back to their tween-speak about cute boys. But it was also the quickest way to get Everleigh to grasp the seriousness of the issue. Yes. I do. I always have.

"Holy moly, that’s huge. I mean—of course you do. Her friend gazed up at the ceiling with a swoony smile, hand pressed to her heart. The man’s a real-life hero with a drawer full of medals he pretends don’t exist. Then there’s those Special Forces muscles. It’s obvious that he’d be great in bed. Plus, he’s thoughtful."

Amelia brought the pillow up to her face and banged it onto her forehead. Everleigh, stop. Please. You’re preaching to the choir. I’m well aware of the vast buffet of goodness that is Teague Sullivan.

You never said. And yes, there was a tinge of hurt in her voice.

What was the point? I knew nothing could ever happen.

Mmm, yeah. Because he’s Alex’s best friend.

That was only the first problem. And that, just like Alex, Teague sees me as his little sister. Of course, there had to be more than one huge obstacle standing in the way. But the bigger problem was that we evolved into such good friends. We got even closer once he was deployed overseas.

He probably got a lot of comfort out of having someone to stay in contact with. Someone normal—outside the Special Forces realm.

I don’t think they call it a realm.

Ah, but you can’t swear that they don’t, so I’m sticking to it.

Everleigh went off on these tangents. Which were usually entertaining, but Amelia needed to wallow right now. Look at this objectively. Forget you know us. Concentrate on the facts—I just moved in with the man of my dreams who I can never be with.

"That’s a