Enter to Win 1 of 2 Print sets of
To Have and To Hold and From Better to Worse
By: Lauren Layne
Releasing
October 18, 2016
Pocket Books
Pocket Books
BLURB:
Sex
and the City meets The Wedding Planner in
The Wedding Belles, a contemporary and witty romance series about three
high-powered New York City women who can plan any wedding—but their own.
Alexis
Morgan has spent the past six years devoted to turning her tiny start-up into
Manhattan’s premiere wedding planning company, The Wedding Belles. Now that her
business is thriving, it’s time to turn towards her much neglected personal
life, and Alexis approaches her relationships like she does everything else:
with a plan. Not a part of that plan is Logan Harris, the
silent partner in the Belles, and the one person who’s been there for her since
the very beginning. But Alexis needs someone fun, and Logan’s all business, all
the time—except when a late night at the office ends with an unexpected kiss
that leaves the usually cool and together Alexis reeling.
Logan
has lusted after Alexis since the day he walked into the tiny Harlem apartment
that used to double as her office. But the ambitious wedding planner has always
been untouchable...until now. Alexis has made it clear that she’s on the dating
market—and equally clear that he’s not in the running. But when Alexis finds
herself in need of a date for her sister’s last minute wedding in Florida,
Logan knows it’s the perfect time to show Alexis that there’s more to him than
numbers and spreadsheets—and beneath the pinstripes and glasses lies a
hot-blooded heartthrob. As Florida’s sultry days turn into even hotter nights,
Logan’s out to convince Alexis that the fling of a lifetime could just maybe
turn into forever...
“Hello.”
The sexy British accented startled
Alexis out of her thoughts, and she glanced up, both alarmed and intrigued to
find that the face that awaited her was every bit as appealing as the voice.
The man was about her age—early,
maybe midtwenties—and ridiculously cute. His hair was dark and maybe just a
touch too long, as though he intended to get a haircut but kept forgetting. The
eyes were brown and friendly, accented by trendy black-framed glasses.
The chunky cable-knit sweater with
elbow patches—for real—bordered
on dorky, but then, Alexis had always had a soft spot for dorky. He had a bit
of the Clark Kent thing going on, which had always been far more her type than
the overrated Superman.
“Hi,” she replied quickly, realizing
that she’d been staring.
His smile grew wider as he extended
a hand. “Logan Harris.”
Darn.
Even the name was good.
“Alexis,” she said.
“Does that come with a last name?”
he teased, lowering himself to the vacant barstool beside her.
“Not to strange men,” she retorted.
“I could buy you a drink. Get rid of
the ‘strange’ part.”
Alexis’s smile slipped as she remembered
that romance, even flirting, wasn’t part of her plan. She’d learned the hard
way that she could have one or the other—her own business or a boyfriend—not
both. And even if she
wanted the latter, the latter didn’t want her back.
“No thanks; I’m fine,” she said,
letting the slightest amount of chill enter her voice. The ice-princess
treatment, Roxanne called it.
Logan shrugged, undeterred. “All
right then. May I borrow your menu?”
She nodded, and he picked it up,
perusing it for several moments and paying her no attention.
It was both a relief and also a bit
of an insult, if she was being entirely honest, to be given up on so easily.
Alexis tried to turn her attention
back to her laptop but watched out of the corner of her eye as he finally shut
the menu, waiting patiently to catch the bartender’s eye.
“Hi there,” he said, when the
bartender ambled back over. “I’d like a Stella, and a maybe bite to eat?”
Alexis didn’t miss the once-over
that the bartender gave Logan before the curvy redhead leaned over the bar,
displaying perky boobs as she clicked her pen and pulled a notepad out of her
back pocket.
“Shoot,” the bartender said
flirtatiously, looking a good deal friendlier than she had when she’d spoken to
Alexis.
Not that Alexis blamed her. A cute
Brit could do that to a girl.
“All right then,” Logan said. “I’d
like the burger, medium, with Swiss. Fish and chips, extra tartar, and . . .
how’s your chicken club?”
The bartender blinked. “It’s good.
But you want all that?”
“I do. Thank you.”
“Suit yourself,” she said,
scribbling Logan’s order on the pad.
“Hungry?” Alexis couldn’t resist
asking after the bartender moved away.
Logan gave a sheepish smile. “I’m a
recovering student. I sometimes get so wrapped up in my day that I forget to
eat.”
“A recovering student. What does that mean?”
He turned slightly toward her.
“Someone’s showing plenty of interest in a strange
man.”
She bit her lip. “I’m sorry if I was
rude before. I’m just not really in the market for . . . you know.”
He gave her an easy smile.
“Everyone’s in the market for a friend, Alexis.”
She opened her mouth and then shut
it as she realized he was right. She could
use a friend. She’d spent her entire life in Boston and knew almost nobody in
New York. This guy seemed nice and nonthreatening enough—what would be the harm
in a little conversation over dinner? It had been too long since she’d had
somebody to share a meal with.
Logan seemed to know the moment she
capitulated, because he turned more fully toward her. “A recovering student,
Alexis, is a recent graduate. One who hasn’t quite absorbed that there will be
no more finals, no more requisite all-nighters, and no more dorm sex.”
Alexis laughed. “Undergrad, then?”
He gave her a wry look. “How young
do I look, darling? MBA from Columbia. Just finished up end of last year.”
She felt a little stab of relief
that he wasn’t twenty-two.
He leaned toward her slightly.
“Twenty-five next month, just in case you were wondering. As a friend.”
She tried to hide her smile and
failed. “Columbia, huh? You’re a long way from home.”
“Noticed that, did ya?” He winked.
“I came out here for undergrad, also Columbia. Always figured I’d go back to
London and maybe someday I will, but . . .” He shrugged. “Seems I have stuff to
do here first.”
“Such as?” She took a sip of her wine,
dismayed to see that it was half-empty.
“Well, this will probably shock you,
given my vast amount of brawn, but I’m an accountant. Or at least I will be,
once I get my business up and running.”
Alexis was impressed. “Your own
business?”
Most twentysomethings, even those
with an entrepreneurial bent, opted to get a few years of work under their
belts for someone else before branching out on their own.
He nodded. “I’m working out of my
flat for now, but I’m hoping to lease some office space soon, get some
legitimacy. If nothing else to get my father off my back.”
“He’s not a fan of your plan?”
Alexis asked.
Logan’s shoulder lifted, and for the
first time he seemed a little sad. “Both parents have had it in their head that
I’d come home. Run the family business in London.”
“Which is . . . ?”
He spun his beer glass idly.
“Financial consulting firm. My father’s the CEO, Mum’s the COO.”
“Wow, that’s . . .”
“Scary?” Logan supplied.
“I was going to say impressive. That
they work together—without killing each other, I mean.”
“They’re in love. It’s atrocious,”
he said with a wink. “What about your folks?”
Alexis laughed. “Not in love. They
divorced when I was in high school. Dad’s remarried and happy now, I think. Mom
not so much.”
“And you?” he said. “Are you happy,
Alexis?”
She pursed her lips, surprised and
yet not entirely unsettled by the personal question. “It’s been a while since
anyone asked me that. Since I even thought about it, really.”
“Think it out. I’ll wait,” he said
with a wink.
She didn’t have to think that long.
“I’m almost happy.”
“You sound quite confident on that.”
She shrugged. “Let’s just say that I
need a few things to fall into place in my professional life, but once that
happens . . . yeah. I’ll be happy.”
She’d make sure of it.
Lauren
Layne is the USA Today bestselling
author of more than a dozen romantic comedies. She lives in New York City with
her husband (who was her high school sweetheart--cute, right?!) and plus-sized
Pomeranian.
In 2011, she ditched her corporate career in Seattle to pursue a full-time writing career in Manhattan, and never looked back.
In her ideal world, every stiletto-wearing, Kate Spade wielding woman would carry a Kindle stocked with Lauren Layne books.
For a list of all her works, please be sure to check out her official website!
In 2011, she ditched her corporate career in Seattle to pursue a full-time writing career in Manhattan, and never looked back.
In her ideal world, every stiletto-wearing, Kate Spade wielding woman would carry a Kindle stocked with Lauren Layne books.
For a list of all her works, please be sure to check out her official website!
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