Everyone has secrets. Even me, the quiet bookworm who owns the small-town bookstore. But my secret? Its a doozy. Ive never experienced the big-O. Yep, no man has ever made me see fireworks.
I thought I’d take this secret to my grave until my ex-boyfriend’s younger brother waltzes into my shop and catches me making a wish on a star.
Mortified doesn’t even begin to cover it. But then Tripp Atwood, the towns charming playboy destined to run the local brewery, drops his own bombshell—he wants to be a romance author!
Now, we’re in a covert operation: Im his beta reader, and he’s dedicated to fulfilling my wildest fantasies. And boy, is he good at it.
As the lines between fiction and reality blur, I can’t help but wonder: am I headed for a heartbreak, or is this the real thing?
