The Love Words, an all-new enemies-to-lovers small-town
romance by Amy Alves, is available now!
Chloe
Caldwell was my nemesis in high school. Or maybe I was hers.
I
met Chloe during one of the worst times of my life and she called me out as the
troublemaking, mischievous jerk I was. After eight years, she still hates me.
But
I’m not some punk kid anymore.
I
have a daughter to raise, a life to build. Unfortunately for Chloe, that life
is in her hometown. The same small town she left years ago.
Now
she’s back and to everyone else, she’s the same delightful, kind-hearted girl.
That’s
not the Chloe I get.
No,
I get the woman hell-bent on vengeance. Her attempts at putting me in my place
only make me want to smack her sweet, sassy backside. I crave her salty
attitude and angry jabs.
When
our animosity starts affecting my daughter, a truce is formed.
Hot,
needy glances slowly replace scathing glares.
Still,
I don’t dare hope for more.
Even
if everything inside me is aching to explore her, possess her—I can’t. Because
I know she would want it all. She’d want what I’ve never given to any woman
before her.
She’d
want all my love words.
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Excerpt
Chloe
“Jess says
you're settling in well. I sometimes forget you lived here growing up, that
this isn’t all new for you. Though, maybe it’s harder to adjust after staying
away for so long? You know, when you were avoiding your past,” my new
sister-in-law comments randomly. It’s the thing I love most about her—there’s
no pretense with Emma. She puts her thoughts and feelings out into the world,
uncensored and guileless.
I bite my
lip and share an amused smile with Lauren. As Emma’s best friend, she’s hardly
ever surprised by much the woman across from us says or does. Lauren goes back
to looking over the volunteer schedule for the Little League baseball teams
that need coaching help this summer.
I’ve been
living in Landry for a couple of weeks, but prior to that, had been visiting
more often lately, slowly re-establishing myself here. It was a bit of a test
to see if moving back felt like coming home or self-inflicted torture. I was
nervous and uncertain. As a confident nurse practitioner, these are two
emotions I haven’t experienced in a while.
“Some
things are new, but mostly it’s almost like I never left. Probably shouldn’t
have stayed away as long as I did.” Like Emma, I was a conflict avoider.
Introspective thinking usually comes from a place of deep feelings, and mine
pointed toward deep discontent—with my job, where I was living, and what I felt
was missing. My adolescent goals have changed over the years, but some still
resonated. Like making Landry my home again.
Those old
dreams changed because of one person. Well, technically two people.
“Because
of the thing that happened that we don’t talk about? Or because of the Hades
guy you’re always scowling at? Or wait, those are the same things, right?” Emma
asks.
“Don’t
worry, from what I’ve heard, no one talks about it anymore. It’s old news.”
Lauren squeezes my hand, knowing the expansive reach of the Landry rumor mill.
“I think it was over soon after it all went down, especially since you went off
to college anyway.” It’s times like now that I remember how involved Lauren is
with this town, especially considering she only moved here a few years ago.
“But when Hayden moved back with his baby girl, alone, suddenly people were
talking about the way he used to be. The young Hayden.” I raise my brows at
her. “I mean, Hades. Sorry, forgot about our Taps drinking rule. He will always
be referred to as ‘Hades’ when we drink here, even if he scowls at us for
calling him that.”
Taps &
Tapas is by far the most popular bar and grill in Landry, and not because it’s
the only one with theme nights, a dance floor, and darts. It also has delicious
food and usually great service. Even when it was Evan, Landry’s grumpiest
bartender, serving our beverages.
However,
now that Evan is off chasing his own goals, getting his degree, and living with
his slightly crazy but adorable girlfriend, things have changed. Evan hired
Hades to fill his place when he moved.
So, my
previously favorite spot to drink, dance, and have fun with my favorite people
is now a source of contention. Hades tainted another place in this town for me.
“The town
is either tight-lipped or vague as hell about it. I need all the details about
what happened and who we need to crush for whatever made you run off to college
and go MIA for a while. Spill, girl. This one”—she jerks a thumb in Emma’s
direction—“won’t talk. She says no one needs to know and that you’re putting it
behind you. However, having a bit of a vindictive streak myself, I can tell
you’ve got a dormant volcano in the emotional abyss where you push down the
anger and pain. I’d like to be prepared for the impending explosion. Not that I
think you shouldn’t have the explosion. Sometimes you need to blow up your
life. Emma and I know that better than anyone. Moving back and facing your
nemesis counts. I just don’t want to miss it. I also require the full story.
It’s the teacher in me. Give me the full character arc—devastation to
redemption. Avoidance to acceptance. Whatever it is—oof, one minute, ladies.
I’ll be back.” Lauren shuffles out of the booth. “Don’t talk about anything
interesting while I’m peeing.”
In her
second trimester, Lauren is energetic, exhausted, emotional, and a whole slew
of other traits her pregnancy intensified. Basically, it’s everything Lauren
was pre-pregnancy but amped up a hundred percent.
A cold
drink, dripping with condensation, slides in front of me right before I smell
the hint of that fresh laundry and warm spice unique to one man I try to stay
out of smelling distance from. I chuff the scent of Hayden Daniels out of my
nostrils as he passes out the rest of the beverages to the ladies.
“Two
non-alcoholic mojitos for the beautiful ladies with child and one spiked
lemonade for the ornery pain in the ass. Enjoy.”
I promptly
push the drink away.
“I want
Ricky to bring me a new drink. I don’t trust this one.”
Did I
order the spiked lemonade cocktail with the explicit intention of giving him
shit? Yes.
Does that
make me immature? Maybe.
Fine, it
absolutely does, but I deserve to get a few digs in. If not to clue him in on
my new “take no shit” attitude, but also to assert my stance on both how I feel
about him and my dominance in this town. My town. He won’t push me out again.
“I work
here, Princess. I wouldn’t risk my job by messing with your drink. No matter
how tempting that may be.”
“See?
That’s what I mean. I know you want to. You’ve done it before.”
He rolls
his eyes.
“Done
what? What did he do with your drink before?” Emma asks, eyeing hers
skeptically.
“So glad
you asked, Emma. He pissed in it. It wasn’t a drink, it was urine on ice.”
Shocked
gasps surround me. Lauren’s timing returning to the table is excellent.
“Hayden,
what the hell? Is that true?” Lauren gags a little.
“I was
seventeen at the time and a shit. So yeah, probably true.” He turns to me, his
expression bored. “Though, I wouldn’t have let you drink it. I was just messing
around.”
“Yeah, you
did that a lot. And my lips were on the straw, Hades. You didn’t stop me—I
smelled it. That’s how I knew what it was. You laughed as I chucked it at you.”
“So
dramatic.” He sighs. “First, I tried to say something, but you turned away the
moment you snatched the drink from my hand. Second, I may have known about it,
but it wasn’t my piss.” He continues despite my glare. “I mean, honestly, I was
doing you a favor.” I gape, attempting to incinerate him with my eyes. “You
learned an important lesson. You should never take a drink you’re handed. That
drink could’ve been from any ill-intentioned asshole attempting to give you who
knows what!”
“So,
you’re saying my options were roofies or urine? That’s what you’re going with?”
“How
concerned should we be about our beverages tonight, new guy?” Lauren asks. “If
Evan were here, we wouldn’t need to be concerned about urine in our drinks. I’m
texting him right now.”
“Oh, come
on, Lauren, don’t text Evan. I know you’ve assigned yourself as his bestie or
whatever, but he hired me—”
“Well,
technically I hired you, Hades, and
it seems there’s a reason Chloe here isn’t falling for your grinning, roguish,
scruffy looks, and whatever forearm porn you keep flashing her way.” Oh God.
Lauren, no, please stop.
“I don’t
fall for assholes or their bullshit,” I confirm. There, that felt good.
“That’s
alright, Princess. You’re not exactly my type either. I’ll have Ricky bring you
a fresh drink. Just knowing you likely never took a drink from anyone else ever
again is a win. Glad I could teach you a little something in the young,
naïve”—he eyes me up and down—“perkier stages of your life.” He picks up the
drink, raps the table briefly with his knuckles, and takes one step before I
stop him. My fingers meet the sinewy forearm I’ve been trying not to stare at.
Damn Lauren for drawing attention to his rough, roped, sun-darkened forearms.
“No. You
don’t win. There are no winners in this situation. Unless it’s me.” His arm
feels like steel wrapped in power and heat. What was my point, again? “I’m
getting a fresh drink, and you are doing a piss-poor job—pun
intended—justifying your teenage barbaric behavior. End of story.”
“Ah. But
my life lesson stuck with you for eight years. That’s the goal, right, Teach?”
He glances at Lauren. “You want your lessons to stick.”
“Okay,
first, don’t call me ‘Teach.’ Only Evan gets to.” Lauren points a finger at
him. “Second, he’s got a teeny, tiny point there, Chlo. But assholes still
don’t get to win arguments at this table, so run along now. Oh, and I need
pretzels. Emma? How’s your nausea today?”
“I’m good.
The nausea passed weeks ago, but I didn’t want to say anything because you were
still having a hard time and needed the companionable sympathy.”
I’m at a
bar with two pregnant chicks. This first girls’ night out in Landry has gone a
little differently than I pictured.
“Pretzels,
a fresh drink for Princess, and a free forearm groping. Got it.” He looks
pointedly at the hand still resting on his arm.
Well,
shit, I’m still touching him.
I retract
my hand like it had been burned.
He winks
at me. “You’re welcome, babe.”
“No!” The
deep sound reverberates from deep within me.
I glare at
his broad back as he heads toward the bar.
“You can’t
just shout ‘no’ at me anytime you don’t like something I do or say,” he calls
out, not even bothering to fully turn around before disappearing into the
kitchen. I catch a flash of his cocky grin right as the door swings closed.
“I don’t
think you won that one, Chloe.” Emma offers a sad pat on the top of the fist I
have pressed against the table.
She’s
right but I say nothing. Hayden and I will either eventually get along or
things will escalate.
Meet Amy
Amy Alves lives in Alberta,
Canada with her husband and two crazy cute kids. She is a romance-obsessed
reader, a lover of wine and fuzzy socks, and a loather of laundry. She loves
contemporary, paranormal, and rom com romance—her kindle always has a long list
of books waiting to be read.
Amy writes contemporary
romance with a hint of rom com fun. Tropes you can expect to see are: second
chance, friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, and fake relationships.
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With Amy
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