“I don’t want to be a choice you have to make. I want to be your heart’s only option.”Wedding planner Skye Douglas makes a career out of bringing fairytales to life—even if she’s given up on her own happily ever after. Instead of dating, she devotes time to her nephew, a guitar prodigy who shares her love for 80s hair bands. When she encounters Caleb Lynch, the new guitar teacher, everything changes. Caleb’s passion for music—not to mention his Def Leppard T-shirt—makes Skye wonder if she might get her storybook ending after all.
Caleb would do anything for those he loves—including a fake engagement as a gift to his best friend’s dying mother. But after meeting Skye, he regrets the promise he made.
When Skye realizes she’s fallen for the groom, will she listen to her head . . . or her heart?
Caleb stands and offers me his hand.“Dance with me?”
I hate to dance . . . almost as much as I hate to date. But this is, without a doubt, the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to me.
Caleb’s eyes never leave mine as he leads me to the dance floor. Pulling me close, he drifts his hands up my arms and along my shoulders until I’m flush against him. I encircle his waist with my arms as we sway to the music.
Then the most amazing thing happens.
Caleb leans his forehead against mine and starts to sing.
And I melt. Absolutely, positively melt right there in his arms.
Correction. This is the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to me.
Caleb’s deep blue eyes burn with emotion as he sings softly to me. I don’t care that we probably look ridiculous and cheesy. I don’t care that the waitress will most likely slash my tires. I don’t care that he’s singing slightly off key. I don’t even care that my best friend is going to scream bloody murder when I tell her about this moment.
I don’t care about any of it, because I’m here.
Suddenly too overwhelmed with everything, I close my eyes.
“Please look at me,” he whispers, and because I’m completely under his spell, I obey.
“Caleb, I . . .” my voice drifts off.
Everything’s just too intense. It’s too much. And I don’t know what to say.
“You feel it, too?”
The insecure girl in me wants to ask what he means, but the woman in me knows. Of course I feel it, and I have no idea how to answer him. I decide to go with the truth.