Two exes reunite to fix up and sell the vacant bed and breakfast that destroyed their marriage. Can they find a way to give the antique inn—and themselves—a better future?

As newlyweds, Molly and Robin made the Hummingbird Inn into a trendy destination for queer travelers in the quirky mountain town of Eureka Springs, Arkansas. But when their career ambitions drove them apart, the young couple separated, handed over the property’s upkeep to a management firm, and never looked back.

Seven years later, Molly and Robin return to the Hummingbird Inn for very different reasons. Molly is an artist on the rise who’s [SD1] been commissioned to create pieces in Eureka Springs; Robin is a celebrity chef whose restaurants have gone belly up. Both feel entitled to their shared property, furious that the other refuses to leave, and resort to a series of escalating pranks in the hopes of scaring the other off. When neither woman budges, they resolve to renovate the bed and breakfast, sell it, and at last go their separate ways. But their work to restore the inn’s vintage charm reignites memories—and chemistry—that make it hard to say goodbye.

Tender, charming, and heartwarming, Bed and Breakup is a small-town lovers-to-enemies-to-lovers romance that explores how some dreams, no matter how dusty or broken, deserve a second chance.

I received an advance galley of this book courtesy of the publisher via NetGalley. All thoughts are my own.

There’s something so refreshing about a rom-com that’s actually queer and written by a queer person—not just queer-adjacent and riddled with clichés or dipped in subtext, but proudly, joyfully gay. This book delivers that and more.

This is an OWN-voices sapphic romance, and while it follows some familiar beats—lovers to enemies to maybe lovers again—it does so with enough heart, nuance, and emotional authenticity that it never feels like it’s just checking boxes. If anything, there were moments when I genuinely wasn’t sure if the author was going to break the rom-com mold entirely. (No spoilers—but it kept me guessing.)

The setup is familiar, but fun: Molly and Robin were once young, starry-eyed newlyweds who opened the Hummingbird Inn, a charming B&B in Eureka Springs, Arkansas, and turned it into a destination for queer travelers. But things fell apart when careers took them in different directions, ambitions grew in opposite directions, and they walked away from the inn, and each other. Well, Robin walked away, but whose counting? (Molly is. It’s Molly. She’s counting.)

Fast-forward seven years. Both women return to the Hummingbird Inn—Molly as a rising artist on commission, Robin as a celebrity chef who is struggling after her star has started to dim. Neither is willing to give up their claim to the property. Cue the lights and the gay pranks of getting on each others nerves in an attempt to drive the other one out.

Their dynamic is both hilarious and tender. I believed their history. I believed their hurt. I believed they still knew each other’s coffee orders even when they didn’t know how to speak kindly anymore. And that’s what made the romance work—it felt real.

One of the biggest standouts for me? The setting. I’ve never once in my life thought, “You know where I need to go? Arkansas.” (Sorry, Arkansas.) But this book made me want to book a weekend in Eureka Springs. It’s quirky, queer-friendly, and the kind of small town I wish existed everywhere.

Inclusivity runs deep in this book. Lesbians, gay men, trans characters, Black and white characters—it’s all there, but it never feels forced. Just… natural. Like real life.

The side characters were another bright spot. They were vibrant without being cartoonish, and I wouldn’t mind seeing a spinoff or two. There’s plenty of story left to tell in this community.

If you want a queer rom-com that feels grounded and joyful, with just the right mix of angst and charm, this book is a great pick. It’s the kind of story that reminds you love doesn’t have to follow any one specific rule book in order for it to work. It’s about the people in love who make it work (or not).