Spruce Creek Puck Boys: Clayton (Spruce Creek Puck Boys Series Book 1) by Maddie Walde

Author:Maddie Walde [Walde, Maddie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dupin Press
Published: 2024-01-08T00:00:00+00:00

Sitting in the idling truck, I take a deep breath to settle my nerves. It’s time to lay my cards on the table. No more holding back for fear of getting hurt. Joanna deserves to know exactly how I feel.

And I desperately hope she still wants me despite the craziness of this super-fast connection and chaos of the outside world trying to pull us apart.

Twenty minutes later I’m standing outside her bookshop, bouquet clutched in one hand. The windows are dark, closed sign hanging in the door. I peer through the glass, heart sinking. Maybe she’s already gone for the night.

My grip tightens on the bouquet of roses as I approach the bookstore’s darkened front door. The closed sign is definitely flipped, and the lights are dim. But that’s not going to deter me. I knock, praying Joanna hasn’t already written me off completely.

These flowers may be cliché, but it’s the best grand romantic gesture I could muster on short notice.

Joanna deserves better. What she doesn’t deserve is my chaotic life and my reputation tearing us apart before we’ve barely begun.

I knock again, peering through the glass door.

There she is. Joanna stands on the other side of the glass.

My heart lurches as I watch her hesitate when she sees me.

She pauses just on the other side of the door, arms wrapped around herself. I put on what I hope is an apologetic smile. After an endless moment she steps forward, unlocking the door but leaves the closed sign facing out.

“We’re not open anymore.” Her voice is cool, her expression guarded. She glances at the roses but doesn’t acknowledge them.

I hold them up like a shield. “I know, but I was hoping we could talk?”

Joanna presses her soft lips together. My chest aches at her wariness, so unlike the passion we’ve shared. I want that closeness back, and silently curse Erica and the paparazzi.

“Please, Joanna. Just give me a chance to explain.” I infuse as much sincerity into my words as I can.

Joanna wavers, then steps back in silent invitation. I enter and she locks the door behind us. The bookstore’s cozy intimacy wraps around me, but the tension thrumming beneath the surface is new. I hate that I’m the cause of this.

I offer Joanna the roses. “These are for you. I want to apologize for all the hassle you had to endure with the press because of me.”

Joanna’s fingers curl around the stems as she brings them up to inhale their perfume. The barest hint of a smile teases her lips.

“They’re lovely. Thank you.” Her words are polite but reserved. She turns away to find a vase, putting physical distance between us.

I shove my hands in my pockets to resist the urge to touch her, to breach our gap by igniting that heat between us. But I know I must use words first, to explain and hopefully help her understand.

“I handled things badly yesterday,” I begin, trailing after her as she makes her way into the break room and arranges the roses in water.

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