Will a budding wedding planner and her bad boy neighbor
stop banging heads and start hearing wedding bells?
FOR BETTER OR WORSE
The Wedding Belles #2
Lauren Layne
Releasing Aug 30th, 2016
Pocket Books
When small-town girl Heather Fowler finally gets promoted from assistant to actual wedding planner, she’s determined to make it as one of Manhattan’s elite Wedding Belles. Unfortunately, her first client demands an opulent black-tie affair at the Plaza…in five months’ time. Heather’s days quickly become a flurry of cake tastings, dress-fittings, RSVP cards, and bridal tantrums. But what she’s really losing sleep over is the live music blaring from her playboy neighbor’s apartment all night.
Five years ago, Josh Tanner was an up-and-comer on Wall Street, complete with the penthouse and the migraines. But a grim cancer diagnosis made him realize there is more to life than the corner office. If only he could convince his pretty, workaholic neighbor to let loose, too. As Heather lets down her guard, Josh is surprised when he starts falling for the sweet, vulnerable woman hiding beneath those power suits. Soon, it’s Heather’s turn to convince Josh to take the biggest risk of all: love.
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“So this is where the noise happens, huh?” she
asked.
Josh’s eyes
narrowed as his friend’s hand touched Heather’s back briefly. “Absolutely,”
Trevor said. “We’re sorry it keeps you up though.”
“Oh, it’s
okay,” she said, waving her hand. “I mean . . . it’s not. But tonight I
couldn’t sleep anyway, so you get a free pass. What do you all play?”
“Donny’s
bass, Felix is on drums. Josh is lead guitar, and I, as the most important
member, have the pipes.”
“Oh! I
thought Josh was the singer,” Heather said with a quick glance over her
shoulder at him.
Their eyes
locked, and Josh felt a flicker of . . . something.
“Ah, is that
what he’s telling the women these days,” Trevor joked.
“No, I just .
. . I hear him, singing sometimes,” Heather muttered.
“Our boy can
carry a tune well enough, but wait until you hear me, love,” Trevor said.
Josh turned
away in mild disgust, pulling a beer out of the fridge as Trevor and the other
guys coaxed Heather into the practice room, thrilled to have any sort of
audience, even a reluctant one.
“Yo, Tanner,”
Felix called.
“What,” he
called, popping the lid off the bottle and tilting the beer back to his lips as
he tried to shake off whatever was bringing down his mood tonight.
“Let’s show
Heather here that we’re more than a bit of noise coming through her bedroom
wall.”
Josh turned
around to see Donny dragging one of his kitchen chairs across the room,
disappearing into the practice room.
“All right,
love, you just sit down and get comfortable,” Trevor said. “Tanner! Come on,
man.”
Josh heard
the low strum of Donny’s guitar, heard Felix do a little warm-up rhythm, and
knew there was no way of getting out of it. If he refused to play a song now,
he’d look like an ass.
Still, his
feet didn’t move, and he took another sip of beer.
Feeling eyes
on him, he glanced up to see Heather in the doorway, leaning one shoulder
against the doorjamb as she studied him.
“Okay, 4A?”
she asked.
Her tone was
lighthearted, almost slightly reluctant, as though she didn’t want to care
about why he was out here alone, feeling oddly itchy with his life.
He
appreciated it. He’d spent enough time in the past few years dealing with
people who walked on eggshells around him, cooing sweetness. Some of it
genuine, some of it not so much.
Heather’s
no-nonsense question was refreshing—and exactly what he needed.
He was happy
and healthy and living the dream, damn it.
Even if he
was no longer sure it was his dream.
“You going
soft on me?” he asked, taking one last sip of his beer before setting it aside
and strolling toward her.
Heather’s
eyes narrowed. “Hardly. I just wanted you to get your shit together so I can
see your cute lead singer work his magic.”
He
deliberately stepped into the doorway so she couldn’t move in either direction
without brushing against him, grinning at her discomfort.
“You’re in a
better mood tonight,” he said, his eyes skimming over her crazy curls and
relaxed expression. “Why?”
“Believe it
or not, I’m not a shrew.”
“Huh.”
Heather shoved
his shoulder with a little scowl. “I’m not!”
“Does that
mean you’re going to start making banana bread like Mrs. Calvin?”
“Yes,
definitely. And coffee cake and sugar cookies and whatever other goodies you
might like. All while wearing a frilly, feminine apron.”
“Dare I hope
there’s nothing under the apron?” he asked, leaning in slightly.
“Right
again!” she said, in mock delight. “I just love to bake naked.”
Josh’s pulse
leapt, but Trevor interrupted before the sudden X-rated picture in his mind
could turn into a full-fledged fantasy.
“Dude, we
doing this or what?”
Josh looked
at Heather.
“One song,”
she said, holding up a finger. “I may as well see what the music sounds like on
this side of the wall.”
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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