"Gifted storyteller" ( RaeAnne Thayne, New York Times bestselling author) Annie Rains invites you to Sweetwater Springs for a wedding with all the feels! Event planner Claire Donovan loves giving clients the weddings of their dreams. But that gets tricky when she has to work with the man who recently broke her heart - Bo Matthews. As the son of the groom and owner of the perfect venue in Sweetwater Springs, Bo will be impossible to avoid. But can Claire be this close to her sexy ex without falling for his charms all over again? Bo's happy for his dad, but he gave up on his own happily ever after when his fiancée left him at the altar. Until he met Claire. She was the first woman who made him think he could fall in love again, which is why he ended things with her so suddenly. But planning a wedding together may be just what this couple needs to remind them that love is always worth the risk.
Release date:
February 12, 2019
Publisher:
Forever Yours
Print pages:
62
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Claire Donovan had a bit of a reputation in Sweetwater Springs. She loved to shop.
As an event planner, she was always looking for a special item to make the big day just a touch more special. Last week she’d found a clown costume for a purse-size Chihuahua to wear to its owner’s eightieth birthday bash. It was a huge hit with the crowd; not so much with the little dog, who yapped, ran in circles, and tore at the shiny fabric.
The only shopping Claire would be doing this morning, however, was glancing in storefront windows on her way to meet with her newest client, Pearson Matthews. Claire’s reputation extended beyond shopping. In Sweetwater Springs, she was also known for being professional and punctual, and for putting on the best parties in town.
She passed Sophie’s Boutique and admired the window display, wishing she had more time to pop inside and say hello to the store owner—and try on one of those dresses that she absolutely didn’t need. Then she opened the neighboring door to the Sweetwater Café and stepped inside to a cool blast of air on her face. She was instantly accosted by the heavy scent of coffee brewing. Best aroma in the world!
“Good morning,” Emma St. James said from behind the counter. She had the smile of someone who’d been sniffing coffee and sugary treats since five a.m.
“Morning.” Claire glanced around the room, looking for Pearson. The only people seated in the coffee shop though were two twentysomething-year-old women and a man with his back toward her. Judging by his build, he was in his twenties or thirties and liked to work out. He wore a ball cap that shielded his face. Not that Claire needed to get a good look at him. If his face matched his body, then he was yummier than Emma’s honeybuns in the display case. Claire would do better to have one of those instead.
Pulling her gaze away from him, she walked up to the counter.
“Your usual?” Emma asked.
“You know me so well.”
Emma turned and started preparing a tall caffe latte with heavy cream and two raw sugars. “Your mom was here the other day,” she said a moment later as she slid the cup of coffee toward Claire.
Claire’s good mood immediately took a dive. She loved her mom, but she didn’t exactly like her. “Oh?” she said, her tone heavy with disinterest. “That’s nice.”
Emma tilted her head. “She asked about you.”
“Well, I hope you told her that I’m fine as long as she stays far away.”
“She said she’s going to AA now,” Emma told her as she rang up Claire’s items at the register.
Drinking had always been Claire’s father’s problem though. Nancy Donovan had so many other, more pressing issues to deal with, none of which Claire wanted to concern herself right now. She paid Emma in cash, took her coffee and bagged honeybun, then turned and looked around the shop once more.
Emma shrugged. “Not sure, but his son is over there.” She pointed at the man in the ball cap, and Claire nearly dropped her coffee.
What is Bo Matthews doing here? She didn’t have anything against his father, but the youngest Matthews son ranked as one of her least favorite people in Sweetwater Springs. Or he would have if he hadn’t left town last April.
Bo glanced over and offered a small wave.
“Maybe he knows where his father is,” Emma suggested.
A new customer walked in so Claire had no choice but to step away from the counter. She could either walk back out of the Sweetwater Café and text Pearson on the sidewalk or she could ask his son.
You hate him, she reminded herself as attraction stormed in her belly. She forced her feet to walk forward until she was standing at his table.
Hate him, double-hate him, triple-hate him.
But wow, she loved those blue-gray eyes of his, the color of a faded pair of blue jeans. The kind you wanted to shimmy inside of and never take off.
“What are you doing back in town?” she asked, pleased with the controlled level of irritation lining her voice.
He looked up. “I live in Sweetwater Springs, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“You left.” And good riddance.
“I had a job to do in Wild Blossom Bluffs. But now I’m home.”
Like two sides of a football stadium during a touchdown, half of her cheered while the other side booed and hissed. She was not on Team Bo anymore and never would be again. “Where is your father?”
“I’m afraid he couldn’t make it. He asked me to meet with you instead.”
Claire’s gaze flitted to the exit. Pearson Matthews was her biggest client right now. He was a businessman with money and influence, and she’d promised to do a good job for him and his fiancée, Rebecca Long. Claire also had her reputation to maintain. She took her responsibilities seriously and prided herself on going above and beyond the call of duty. Every time for every client.
And right now, her duty was to sit down and make nice with Bo Matthews.
* * *
Bo reached for his cup of black coffee and took a long sip as he listened to Claire do her best to be civil. If he had to guess, the conversation she really wanted to be having with him right now was anything but.
“The wedding is two months away,” she said, avoiding eye contact with him. “We’re on a time crunch, yes, but your father could’ve called and rescheduled the initial planning session.” Her gaze flicked to meet his. “It’s not . . .
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