For the first time in my life, nobody wants anything from me beyond a fresh pot of coffee and a slice of pie.

Not the regulars at the diner where I work under a fake name.
Not the small town that’s slowly, stubbornly starting to feel like home.
And not Cal Holloway—the local veterinarian, devoted single dad, and the one man who looks at me like I’m just Frankie.

Not Hollywood’s former darling.
Not a billionaire’s disappointment.
Not a woman with a past she’s trying to forget.

Just Frankie.

Which would be a whole lot less terrifying if Cal weren’t kind, steady, and the sort of man who’s deeply inconvenient to a woman trying not to want anything. Or if his little girl didn’t keep sneaking past my defenses. And if being part of their world didn’t feel so dangerously close to everything I’ve ever wanted.

Serenity Cove was meant to be a place to lie low. Keep my head down. Stay out of trouble. Easy enough—until Cal. Now this town, this man, and his little girl are getting under my skin in ways that feel equal parts lovely and reckless.

But hiding doesn’t last forever. And when the life I left behind comes calling, I have to decide whether to go back to the future everyone expects of me . . . or stay in the one place that’s started to feel like mine—with the man who sees me more clearly than anyone ever has.

Just Frankie, Actually is the fourth book in the Love in LA series but can be read as a stand-alone. Perfect for fans of Notting Hill and Katherine Center and readers who love single dads, celebrities in hiding, quirky small towns,and flamingos.