If it makes you happy

My new next-door neighbor Cliff seems to have everything figured out. Small-town golden boy? Check. Single dad extraordinaire? Check. Hot baker forearms? I didn't notice them, I swear. 1, on the other hand, don't have anything figured out. Trust me, I didn't think taking over my mom's dream bed-and-breakfast in Copper Run, Vermont was going to be easy. But apparently my scones belong in the garbage with my small talk skills Cliff is inescapable. His charm, the way he wears flannel, and even his pastries, make not wanting to be friends with him and his daughters pretty hard. Friends? I can make friends. That's safe. Except I'm leaving in three months. So ask me why l'm thinking about kissing my hot neighbour ..