Justin O'Dwyer is 19. Four days ago, his mother died of a drug overdose, and now Justin is back in Enterprise, Oregon, trying to figure out how to raise the younger siblings he's afraid of losing to the foster system. Justin is completely out of his depth. Harper is six, and hates him. Wyatt is four and doesn't remember him. And baby Scarlett, at fourteen months, has never even met her big brother before. When Scarlett gets sick and won't stop screaming, and when Harper runs off in the middle of the night, Justin is at the end of his tether. In desperation, he knocks on a neighbor's door begging for help.<br><br>Del Abbot is 38, and living in his grandparents' old place in Enterprise after his marriage broke down and he lost his restaurant in the divorce. He's a chef, even had his own show on cable for a while, but now he's looking for a new start, if he could just figure out what exactly that entails. When the O'Dwyer family barrels into his life one night, Del can't refuse to help. What begins as a trip to the hospital becomes a regular child-minding gig while Justin struggles to find his feet. And the more time Del spends with Justin, the more they both want more than friendship. But small town life comes with its own bigotry, and, in Justin's case, that bigotry has always been close to home.<br><br>When an act of violence threatens to destroy the small family they've built, both Justin and Del need to put aside their pasts and reach for their future together.

Family Recipe

Justin cleared his throat. “Thank you. Thank you for doing this.”


“It’s not a problem,” the guy said, and Justin wished he could remember his name. Was it Dale? Darryl? He’d said it, back at his house, but Justin had missed it because he’d been having a goddamn breakdown or whatever the fuck that was. The guy had a nice voice, low and calm like he was talking to some spooked animal, and Justin wondered if it always sounded like that, or if Justin really was that pathetic. Yeah, probably the second one.


Justin sneaked a glance at the guy as they passed under another streetlight. He was maybe in his late thirties, though Justin was never great at judging age. He had a dark beard that hid the planes of his face, and long hair pulled back into a messy bun. More hipster than biker though, Justin decided. His dark hair was a little gray at the temples, and there were flashes of silver in his beard.


Chapter 9