This RITA® Reader Challenge 2015 review was written by Mejdu. This story was nominated for the RITA® in the Mid-Length Contemporary category.

Here is Mejdu's review:

In the interest of full disclosure, Lucky Harbor is a real comfort collection for me. I’ve revisited the series on many occasions and have had many squees and swoons across the twelve-book arc. Because I love a gimmick, I love that all the major titles are classic and pop love songs (“At Last” by Etta James; “Simply Irresistible” by Robert Palmer). There are many songs titled “One in a Million” so I’m not sure which Shalvis intended here, but I like to think it’s Aaliyah’s.

In the interest of methodical over-preparation, I reread the entire series for this review, and was once again taken with the weirdos who populate Lucky Harbor. One in a Million is the last book in the series, and the last of the four trilogies that comprise it. It follows Callie Sharpe, an online wedding planner and the granddaughter of Lucky Harbor’s senior mischief-maker, Lucille. Callie’s counterpart is Tanner Riggs, the divorced father of teenaged Troy and partner in Lucky Harbor Charters with the heroes from the previous two installments in the series, Sam and Cole.

I found Tanner and Callie’s chemistry believable and laughed frequently at their banter. Callie can be klutzy; her awkwardness and ear for innuendo are the source of most of the jokes between the couple. She’s contrasted with Tanner’s “easy masculine grace,” which is a phrase I could happily see retired. Tanner’s enamored of her unassuming style, and charmed by her near constant uniform of sweat pants and fake Uggs. Tanner is generally smooth and sweet, e.g. apologizing to Callie for hurting her feelings in high school.

I find him most genuine when he is reckoning with his son Troy, and trying to find ways to parent that inspire trust. There are, in fact, a lot of parallels between Troy and Callie: both feel abandoned, both want to be loved, both have trouble trusting Tanner’s affection. Tanner thus has the heady task of convincing two people that he really means it.

I think if you want to find criticism in this novel, it’s easiest to locate it in the couple’s immaturity about both knowing what they want and being honest about those wants. But, that’s not all together uncommon with all humans so it doesn’t bother me. It especially doesn’t bother me because Shalvis is willing to give both characters the what-for, visited upon them by Lucille, Lucille’s beau Mr. Wykowski, Troy, and the bro patrol (here, Sam and Cole). Since Callie is tentative, uncertain, prone to retreat, and seemingly incapable of self-reflection without prompting, the what-for factor is high with her. Tanner strikes me as less oblivious to his own feelings, but usually takes the path of least resistance where Callie is concerned, which is at odds with his proactive take on the rest of his life. He apologizes for messing up often, and I get that a good grovel is a romance staple, but I would have liked to see Callie take responsibility for her immaturities every once in a while. Or initiate meaningful conversations with Tanner. But that mostly falls to him. Again, not necessarily a critique, but can be frustrating in repetition.

Lucille features more heavily in this book than she does anywhere else in the series. If you’re not a fan of the meddling grandma trope, then Lucille’s insistent provocations will probably annoy you. If, like me, you love an old lady living it up, Lucille’s mastery of social media and her blunt appreciation of sex will keep you entertained for the majority of the novel. She’s easily Callie’s best sounding board, and their camaraderie make Callie’s friendships with the two women dating Sam and Cole, Becca and Olivia respectively, seem contrived. Troy also has a really fun relationship with Lucille, and I think the addition of his character keeps One in a Million from being too stale. Since the emotional shtick here is two lovers who don’t believe in love, that staleness can come pretty easily, and I’d say that Callie is especially unconvincing in her whole down on love thing. I mean, it’s a hard sell for a wedding planner, and we can’t all pull it off like Jennifer Lopez. I think, because of gender socialization, Tanner’s relationship to love and HEAs is probably more believable, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it was written more convincingly. It just means I (possibly we) am more likely to read it as authentic.

In reading romance, I’m pretty attentive to how people of color are described and the characterization of gender and non-normative sexuality. I very much liked, then, that Tanner’s mother is simply described as Brazilian, without any food related metaphors. I’m less into the new trend in contemporaries to play up “bromances.” Tanner and his partners are obviously really good friends, and I appreciate that more writers are moving toward letting men have substantive conversations and relationships outside of the company of the heroine.

But then there’s a scene where Troy comes upon Tanner and Cole in a headlock, just after Tanner has declared that Cole sometimes “acted like a chick” because of his willingness to show affection and ask about feelings. Some awkward conversation ensues where Troy and Tanner try to assure one another that being gay is totally cool and Cole casually informs them that Tanner wouldn’t be his type anyway. I’ve read this scene or its familiar about a million times lately and while I’m glad we can all agree that being gay is totally cool, I do wish we’d stop giving out awards to men for NOT being homophobic, like it’s extra on their part rather than, I don’t know, a standard of being a good human.

Tanner has a few moments like this—his obvious respect and affection for his mother at odds with his willingness to dismiss feeling in any way as the domain of the chick. Or say, when he supports Troy’s desire to be in the school play vs. play football (nice), because it will afford him the opportunity to kiss his crush (bored now). None of this is especially new or even offensive to me at this point, but I think Shalvis has the skill to do a more complex and interesting representation of friendship, gender, and sexuality than these scenes afford.

By now it looks like maybe I didn’t like this book at all, but that’s not true. It’s a lot of fun, with plenty of cute moments and sharp banter. Because Lucille has been there from the first Lucky Harbor book, her narration of her “matchmaking” offers readers a chance to revisit previous couples and compare their favorites with Lucille’s and (if we can assume any intentionality), maybe even Shalvis’. Callie and Tanner are perhaps not my favorite couple of Lucky Harbor, but Lucille and Troy more than compensate to make this book a solid contender in the series. And, if you love a small town contemporary, you’d likely be really lucky in the Harbor (sorry/not sorry about that pun).