It's better to regret the things you've done than the things you haven't. Right?
I’ve made so many mistakes in my life, I’m sure I’m in the book of Guinness World Records, and unfortunately, this year has proved no exception. Telling my boss’s wife that we were having an affair was probably the biggest mistake, but the lying bastard broke my heart, so I don’t regret it. I do regret losing my job, though, especially now I’m broke. Frankly, I’m glad it’s nearly New Year, and I can put this annus horribilis behind me. If only I could do the same with the rest of my life, things might start to look up.
When I see a guy lying on the deck of the beach house next to mine, I make sure I look the other way. I want a quiet, uncomplicated New Year, and I’m not going to get involved with a complete stranger, especially one who’s obviously got issues of his own. But then his family invites me to Christmas dinner on the beach, and his dark eyes tempt me into saying yes. Well, it’s better to regret the things you’ve done than the things you haven’t. Right?
Life’s been tough for a few years, ever since my twin brother died. Christmas is always the hardest time, and as usual I escape to the beach where I plan to spend the rest of the festive season drinking myself into a stupor. Then I meet Jess. A hot fling is just what the doctor ordered, and both of us enjoy escaping the harsh reality of life for a week or two. But Jess has secrets, and one of them turns up on New Year’s Day to explode her life like a grenade.
I don’t want to get involved. I know Jess is short of cash, and if I tell her that I’m rich by nature as well as by name, I’ll never know whether it’s me she wants or my money. I need to tell her goodbye and let her sort her fucked-up life out herself. But she’s crawled under my skin and inside my brain and into my heart. I hunger for her. And I discover that I can’t let her go.