A runaway bride. A handsome stranger. Two pasts to put behind them.
Parker is ready to marry the man of her dreams. But he isn’t ready to marry her. It would be helpful if he didn’t choose their wedding day to tell her this. But as she flees from the travesty behind her, she literally runs into the arms of a handsome stranger. The southern drawl, the dreamy eyes, she can’t fall for another man after being left at the altar – can she?
When Liam agreed to go to go on a date he didn’t expect to leave with the bride. Nor did he expect to take her the emergency room. Immediately he’s drawn to her fiery spirit, her kind heart and beautiful smile. Liam’s got a whole host of problems and a past that keeps coming back, now can’t be the time to fall in love, but Parker might just be the one to break down his barriers and let him live a little – if she’ll let him in.
Will these two strangers allow serendipity to put them together, or will their fears keep them apart?
Aimee and Aria has shared an extract with us today. Enjoy!
*****beginning of extract*****
‘He’s a stranger to me.’ She pleads her case while the nurse adjusts her pants. ‘We just met an hour ago and I don’t even remember his name.’
I raise a single eyebrow as I look over at her.
She pinches her lips together as she rolls her eyes. ‘OK fine, I remember his name, Liam, but I don’t know him. I swearit. We weren’t having sex. I just got dumped for Christ’s sake!’
‘Let’s go to x-ray,’ the nurse says avoiding the subject entirely. Her face is blank and it would appear that she’s tucked her emotions away and they aren’t coming out even for the girl who walked in wearing a wedding dress.
When Parker comes back into the room from having her x-rays, she sits on the bed, her feet now in her incredibly high heels dangling over the side of the bed. I laugh to myself at the ridiculousness of her new outfit.
‘What?’ she asks sharply.
I look from her feet to her face, a grin on my own face. ‘Those shoes really make the outfit.’
‘God…’ she says, dropping her head into her uninjured hand. ‘This must look really ridiculous.’
I shrug. ‘I’m sure they’ve seen worse.’
She shakes her head. ‘Trust me, this will become one of those stories they tell their families around the dinner table at holidays. They’ll leave out my personal details but to someone I’ll be the runaway bride with a broken wrist. I know firsthand because I do this job myself and I have those stories.’ She kicks her feet up onto the bed, lying back against the pillow. ‘None of this was supposed to happen you know?’ She has a hand on her forehead, staring at the ceiling, very clearly distressed over the entire afternoon’s events. Can’t say I blame her there.
‘You wanna talk about it?’ I ask.
‘No,’ she says without missing a beat. No thinking about it, just straight-up no.
‘OK.’ I pull my phone from my pocket to fill the silence a little less awkwardly.
‘Let’s talk about you,’ she says after a few moments of silence. ‘I need to get my mind off the five million worries racing through non-stop.’
‘OK, what do you wanna know?’ I ask, shoving the phone I was looking through back into my pocket.
‘Why did you save me?’
I run my hand over the scruff on my face, which looks unintentional but is about as much of a beard as I seem to be able to grow. ‘Well, it was either save you or watch you die and I couldn’t let that happen.’
‘Yeah. I mean your dress was too nice for death and I don’t do well with lots of blood.’
‘Ha-ha.’ She glares. ‘So, you were just there? Randomly?’
I nod. ‘Pretty much. I was supposed to be at lunch on a blind date but uh… she turned out to be weird, so I bolted.’
Her eyes are wandering the room as I speak but meet mine immediately. She’s suddenly interested in what I have to say and the awkwardness is fading away. You can feel it.
‘You bolted from a blind date? Please tell me you did not stand some poor woman up because she wasn’t hot enough.’
*****end of extract*****
About Aimee Brown:
Aimee Brown is a writer of romantic comedies set in Portland, Oregon, and an avid reader. She spends much of her time writing, raising three teenagers, binge-watching shows on Netflix and obsessively cleaning and redecorating her house.
She’s fluent in sarcasm and has been known to utter profanities like she’s competing for a medal. Aimee grew up in Oregon, but is now a transplant living in cold Montana with her husband of twenty years, three teenage children, and far too many pets.
She is a lot older than she looks and yes, that is a tattoo across her chest. (In the Portlandia spirit, yes, I lived many years in PDX and I do indeed have a bird tattooed on me (2!))
Aimee is very active on social media. You can find her at any of the networks below. Stop by and say hello!