Genre: Christian, Contemporary, Romantic Comedy
Publisher: WhiteFire Publishing
Publication date: June 15, 2016
Number of pages: 300
Isabel “Izze” Vez, bridal consultant extraordinaire, has been helping brides find The Dress for years. She loves nothing more than helping make wedding dreams come true…but sometimes the happy endings grate on her. How many times can a girl discover someone else’s gown without dreaming of the day it’ll be her turn to wear one?
When James Miles Clayton walks into her life, he represents everything Izze can’t handle: change. He’s determined to bring the Ever After Bridal Boutique into the black…and to prove to Izze that she should give him a chance.
V. JOY PALMER BLOG | SNACK TIME DEVOTIONS BLOG
Izze is just trying to buy some books, but this rude guy (AKA Miles) keeps staring at her. She’s reading in the coffee shop in the bookstore, and Miles reappears. Izze wants you to know that she seriously considered throwing her coffee at him. ;)
I take a sip of my drink and open the first book.
Suddenly, a shadow falls over me.
I look up, and who do I see?
That’s right. Rude Guy.
“You’re sitting in my spot.”
“I beg your pardon.” My mouth hangs open.
“It’s perfectly fine. I’d just like my seat back.”
“Uh, no, I think you misunderstood me.”
He raises his eyebrows at me, and I notice his striking blue eyes for the first time. “You’re not going to move?”
“Yes. I mean no. I mean yes.”
His eyebrows creep higher at my stuttering.
I take a breath. “I mean you misunderstood when I said, ‘I beg your pardon.’ I meant it like, ‘I don’t understand what you’re talking about.’ So, no, I am not giving you the seat back because you were not sitting here. To answer your last question.”
His eyebrows have taken a flying leap to the moon by the time I finish. Which makes his rather gorgeous eyes that much more obvious. Oh, I really hate that I notice this.
“Okay.” He sets his coffee down and takes the seat across the table from me.
Bad. Bad. Very bad.
This isn’t going to end well. I can feel it in my bones.
“What are you doing?” I snarl. Politeness gone. Out comes Snot Face.
“I can see that, but why? This is my table. Go get your own.” My sneer would make any middle-school kid proud.
“Well, I say it’s my table, but you clearly think it’s your table. So you’re not going to budge. Correct?” He holds my gaze and nods when I don’t answer. “That’s what I thought.” He sips his coffee, sets it down, and folds his hands all lawyer-style as he waits for me to refute his logic.
Oh, I’ll refute it all right.
“I don’t know you. And I’m not sharing a table with someone I don’t know.” Ha! Take that.
“I’m James Miles Clayton, but my friends call me Miles. And this is my spot.” His smug grin reveals an even row of teeth. “And your name is?”
“None of your beeswax.” Great, now I’m reverting back to myself at age five.
“That was a good, mature comeback.” He smirks. “You don’t have to tell me your name, but it would sure go a long way in getting to know you.” His expression is somewhat charming. And insanely aggravating.
“You could be a stalker.”
“I assure you I’m not.”
“I’m sure that’s what all stalkers say. Especially when the restraining order is placed.”
“I sit at this table every time I come to this bookstore.”
“I bet the other tables would like to make your acquaintance. Share the joy.”
“I’m a one-table-for-life kind of man,” he shoots back.
“Look, you weren’t sitting here when I sat down. It looked like James had left the building.” I purposely don’t call him Miles because I am not his friend. This man is crazy.
His eyes sparkle. Uh-oh. “Now, why did you think I had left?”
“Um, because I didn’t see you.”
“If you didn’t see me, I would think you would have said something like you didn’t see me. You said it looked like I had left. Meaning you saw me. Possibly even watched me.”
“Uh…” Sigh. I cannot tell a lie. “Uh, I wasn’t watching for you. I saw you and ducked.”
“Why is that?” He leans forward.
“Because you were staring at me earlier. And that bugs me.”
He doesn’t deny staring at me. He just doesn’t address it.
“Did your mother ever teach you that staring is rude?” I ask.
“My mother raised me to be quite the gentleman.”
I snort. Like a lady. “On the contrary. Gentlemen don’t stare.”
James the Rude Guy shrugs. “Think what you’d like, but let’s get back to you. You were watching me after you ducked. To see if it was safe to sit or run.”
I refuse to comment. Hey, if he can do it, I can too.
He chuckles. “Looks like between the two of us, you’re the stalker.”
“I am not!”
Heads turn our way and someone shushes me. Great.
“I am not,” I say again, this time just above a whisper.
“That’s what they all say.”
“Argh!” My head drops to the table. “Can I please just have my table?” Might as well try polite desperation.
I raise my head. “Why? Why sit here and bug me? Why not get another table?”
He looks me square in the eyes, and it almost takes my breath away. “Because I like this spot. And the company intrigues me.” He stands up. “But I’m afraid I have to go pay for this book. I hate reading a book in a coffee shop that I haven’t purchased yet. Until next time.” He winks and walks away.
This time I make sure he walks out the door.
(Watch for my longer review coming soon...)
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