He’s the one that got away.

Now that I’m back in town, the jerk wants to offer me a job.

This isn’t good for either of us. He feels like he’s got to make up for what happened when we were kids.

And I have to restrain my hormones from doing the tango in front of him.

Never a good working relationship. Or is it?

See, here’s the deal. We made a pact when we were kids.

If by some crazy reason we weren’t married by the time we were thirty, we’d marry each other.

Well, time’s up. And the pact was never broken.

Now what? Do I forgive the guy that ripped my heart out as a lovesick teenage girl?

He wants a second chance, and honestly, no one is rooting harder for him than me.

In our small town, this handsome, rich boy and I couldn’t have been more different, but they say opposites attract.

Either way, our Marriage Pact is an interesting thought.

Feels more like forever than a simple agreement, and with this boy?

Forever is exactly what I’ve wished for.