Captain Heartbreaker (Havenbrook Book 4)
Page 28
Willow learned a long time ago to protect her heart at all costs, so her walls are firmly in place when her ex comes strolling back into town, all cockiness and charm. When they're thrown together on the job, she knows better than to give in to the tug of attraction that still simmers between them. She might be drawn to him, but she certainly doesn't trust him. It's time for her to prove she's not the brokenhearted girl he left behind.
There’s no room for second chances in Havenbrook. And Willow’s daddy—the mayor—will do anything to keep it that way.
Start reading Second Chance Charmer now!
SIGN UP FOR BRIGHTON’S NEWSLETTER and receive a free copy of The Neighbor! Being part of the newsletter also unlocks your access to exclusive content and giveaways! Click here or go to brightonwalsh.com/newsletter.
JOIN HER FACEBOOK GROUP, Brighton’s Brigade, where shenanigans are had on the regular and you get in on exclusive giveaways as well as sneak peeks at future books.
REVIEWS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED as they help readers find new books. Spreading the word by telling friends and strangers alike is the best way to help an author. Please leave a review on your favorite book site!
Keep reading for an excerpt from Second Chance Charmer!
SECOND CHANCE CHARMER EXCERPT
“Fancy meetin’ you here,” Finn said.
Willow slid him a look out of the corner of her eye, trying not to be affected by the warmth swirling in his gaze. Trying and failing. “If you’re not careful, I’m gonna start thinkin’ you’re following me.”
He smiled then, the sight nearly knocking Willow on her ass. “If I were following you, we’d run into each other a helluva lot more than we have been.” He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Why did that tiny, innocent touch have her body lighting up? “I guess I’ve just been lucky.”
She attempted to maintain the facade of calm, when inside, she felt like she was on fire. “Is that what you’d call it?”
Once again, he let his eyes drop to take in every inch of her. And those eyes? They heated until there was no doubt in her mind he was mentally undressing her, imagining what every inch of her would look like bare. “Yeah, Willowtree,” he said, his voice deep and rough, just a whisper in the space between them. “I call it damn lucky.”
She swallowed. Tried to get her breathing under control. Failed miserably. “Quit lookin’ at me like that.”
“Like what?” he asked with a smile.
“Like that.”
He leaned closer, dropped his voice even more. “Like I’m picturing what would’ve happened if I hadn’t walked away the other night? If I’d been able to get you out of your shirt? See what you’ve got hiding under all these layers? Can’t say I’ve stopped thinkin’ about it. This is just the first time you’ve been present for it.”
“Finn…” She tried to make it come out as an admonishment, scold him for being inappropriate, but instead, it came out breathless. Like a plea for more. Her entire body warmed, her cheeks growing hot, and there was no doubt in her mind everything was written all over her face.
She finally let herself meet his eyes, only to find his even more heated than before. Like it was taking all his strength not to grab her by the ass and hoist her up so she’d be wrapped around his hips—to hell if they were in a public place or not.
“It’s nice to see your cheeks get red for somethin’ other than you being pissed at me,” he said, running the back of a finger down her warm skin. “Though I don’t mind that either. As long as you’re talkin’ to me, I’ll take what I can get.”
His acknowledgment of her arousal only made the heat bloom more. She darted her eyes around him to where Rory and Nola stood, their attention focused on the lighting offered, paying her and Finn no mind. But all it would take was once glance in their direction, and Rory would see everything. And she would never, ever let Willow live it down.
Finn looked over his shoulder to where Willow’s eyes were fixed, then he circled her wrist with two fingers and tugged her around the corner into an empty aisle. And, dammit, but that was both better and worse. She wanted to be in a crowded store, surrounded by people, as much as she wanted it to be just the two of them, hidden and tucked away where they could do anything they wanted.
And, Lord, did she want. No more lying to herself. Which meant she didn’t trust herself around him. It was that simple. She’d proven time and time again she couldn’t be trusted in his company, and the longer she was in it, the higher the probability she’d do something totally out of character for her. Something her sister—the sister who stood only an aisle over—would have a conniption over. Something she’d hold over Willow’s head for eternity, right after sharing it with their daddy.
But Willow forgot about all that when Finn tugged her to him, sliding an arm around her to press against the small of her back. He didn’t stop until their fronts were flush, an intimate touch that was absolutely inappropriate for the middle of the hardware store…and for two people who weren’t a couple.
And yet Willow didn’t push him away. With hands resting against his chest, she stood stock-still and stared up at him. His lips curved into the tiniest smile before he leaned down, bringing his face closer to hers. She panted—there was no other word for it. Her breaths came shallow and fast, her fingers curling into the material of the T-shirt covering all that muscled goodness Finn hid under his clothes.
He was going to kiss her again.
And…she was going to let him. She wanted that kiss more than her next breath, wanted to feel those warm lips of his against hers, wanted the sinful slide of his tongue along her own. He was so close, she could nearly taste the sweet tang of his tongue. But instead of pressing his mouth to hers, he brushed his lips across her cheek before nuzzling her neck as he inhaled deeply. She went boneless, certain the only thing holding her up was his arm around her, solid and sure.
Against her ear, he whispered, “You ready to stop ignorin’ what’s between us?” He pressed a light kiss on that heavenly place behind her ear—the one he’d learned at eighteen was her weakness. “Because I am. I’m here and ready whenever you are. I’ve thought about that kiss every damn second since it happened. Played it out a hundred different ways, and they all end the same, Willowtree. With me inside you.”
Starting reading Second Chance Charmer today!
OTHER TITLES BY BRIGHTON WALSH
Reluctant Hearts series
INTERCONNECTED STAND-ALONES
Tessa Ever After
Paige in Progress
Caged in Winter
Our Love Unhinged
Havenbrook series
INTERCONNECTED STAND-ALONES
Second Chance Charmer
Hometown Troublemaker
Pact with a Heartbreaker
Captain Heartbreaker
Captive series
INTERCONNECTED STAND-ALONES
Captive
Exposed
Stand-alone titles
Dirty Little Secret
Plus One
Season of Second Chances
The Neighbor
HAVE YOU READ LONDON HALE?
Filthy, taboo, smart erotic romance is what you get when Brighton Walsh and Ellis Leigh/Kristin Harte team up. Ready to set your e-reader on fire?
MAY-DECEMBER ROMANCES
Daddy’s Best Friend
The DILF
Nanny With Benefits
OPPOSITES ATTRACT ROMANCES
Sinner (formerly Sinful Temptation)
Cuffed (formerly Sinful Attraction)
Talk Dirty to Me (formerly Sinful Distraction)
FRIENDS TO LOVERS ROMANCE
Reunion
ONE NIGHT STAND TO MORE ROMANCE
Tapping That Asset
TEACHER/STUDENT ROMANCE
Seducing His Student
STEPBROTHER’S BABY ROMANCE
Knocking Her Up
BILLIONAIRE BOSS ROMANCE
Bedding the Billionaire
Never miss a release, giveaway, or sale. Sign up to receive the Temperance Falls Gazette, the only place to get all the gossip from London and Temperance Falls. www.londonhale.com/gazette
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I honest to God wasn’t sure this book was ever going to be written, which was a tough place to be in considering where I left all my wonderful readers with Pact with a Heartbreaker. (I’m sorry. I hope you still love me.) In the midst of writing Captain Heartbreaker, my family suffered the devastating losses of both my husband’s parents, two months apart, the second of which happened on the day before the year anniversary of my dad’s death. They were all sixty-one to sixty-three years old. Unexpected and far too young. To say it was a rough year for us would be like comparing a puddle to Lake Michigan.
I wanted to write this story—I’ve loved Havenbrook for almost four years now, and I love these sisters and their stories so much. But I’ve been met with life altering and devastating blows while writing each and every book in this series and that left me with a block I wasn’t sure how to overcome. Really, was it any wonder my brain was like, nah, man, how about we not, mkay? whenever I tried to venture back into this world.
But I’m stubborn AF and I wasn’t ready to give up, so I reached out to a wonderful writing coach, Becca Syme, to help me figure out how to move forward and get me out of this funk. And her suggestions actually worked. (Cue surprise and awe.) She gets all my eternal gratitude and a lifetime supply of wine for helping me claw my way out of this black hole I’d been in for so long.
Also receiving a lifetime supply of their favorite goodies…
Christina, Plot Whisperer Extraordinaire, who didn’t bat an eye when I said, “Hey, Becca says I need to talk to someone every morning first thing before I write, so is it cool if I take up the first hour of your day dealing with my shit?” Thanks for always being willing to deal with my shit and doing so with your adorably chipper voice, even before eight in the morning. I’d smother you in kisses if I could.
Meg, who answered endless questions about the army, who read this in its entirety four times, and who filled in my [idk something about a mission or whatever?!?] notes with amazing suggestions. And to her hubby, Anthony, who made sure I didn’t do anything dumb—with regards to the army references, anyway. All other dumb things are one hundred percent my doing, as are any fictional liberties I took. Thank you both a million for your help on this to make it as authentic as possible!
Laura and Anna, who gave medical advice and spewed a whole bunch of super smart stuff when I told them what I needed and then dumbed it down for me. I love you both.
Finally, my guys. Hopefully I’ll be less crabby now that I’ve finally surmounted the insurmountable. Thanks for being cool about fending for yourselves every single night while I finished this and for begging to finally go out to dinner when I was done. You’re the best, and I love you.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestselling author Brighton Walsh spent nearly a decade as a professional photographer before taking her storytelling in a different direction and reconnecting with her first love: writing. When she’s not lost in her own made up worlds, she’s probably either reading or shopping—maybe even both at once. She lives in the Midwest with her real life hero of a husband, her two kids—one taller than her, one not quite yet—and her dog who thinks she’s a queen. Her boy-filled house is the setting for dirty socks galore, frequent dance parties (okay, so it's mostly her, by herself, while her children look on in horror), and more laughter than she thought possible.
www.brightonwalsh.com
brighton@brightonwalsh.com