Pretty men are trouble. I married a pretty boy, had his child, but he didn't have enough substance to stick around. Then Blake Dearing walks into my inn. He is handsome, bordering on pretty, and I'm bordering on telling him to turn around and go back to Louisiana where he came from. The only problem is that he is in possession of my great aunt's lost wedding ring, and Blake isn't willing to give it up. Fine. I'll just see how much substance this pretty man has when he suggests a bet to see who really owns the ring. Blake Dearing has no idea what he's in for.