For Better or Worse
The Wedding Belles, #2
The Wedding Belles, #2
by Lauren Layne
Releasing August 30th 2016
Pocket Books
Pocket Books
Blurb
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.”
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Author Info
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!
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