Jamie Lynn Wells is twenty-three, broke, on house arrest in Key West, and wearing an ankle monitor for stealing keys. Her court-ordered community service at a marine wildlife rehabilitation center was supposed to be punishment?not the place where her life finally starts to unlock.

Jamie doesn't steal valuables. She steals keys. Tiny, forgettable pieces of metal people leave behind without noticing?keys to houses, cars, storage units, lives that were already moving on without her. It's a compulsion she doesn't fully understand, born out of loss, survival, and years of doing what she had to do to get by.

At the Center, Jamie expects judgment. What she finds instead is chaos: injured sea turtles, grumpy manatees, an otter with sticky fingers, coworkers who feel more like a found family, and Mark?quiet, capable, devastatingly kind Mark?who sees her ankle monitor and doesn't ask for explanations she's not ready to give.

As Jamie learns how to care for wounded animals, she's forced to confront the parts of herself she's been hiding from: the shame, the fear, and the belief that she's something disposable. Slowly, through work, connection, and a romance built on patience rather than rescue, Jamie begins to understand what the keys were really for all along.

This is a tender, sexy, emotionally grounded romance about second chances, found family, and the quiet power of being seen. It's about broken things that still work, people who don't need fixing, and discovering that sometimes the door you're afraid to open is the one that finally leads you home.