So True is here! Whether you read Auburn’s enemies-to-lovers story in So Close or are just meeting the Campbell siblings for the first time, you will love their close-knit family and the small town of Tierney Bay. And you’ll fall head-over-heels for Chiara and Jax’s first-love, second-chances tale. Scroll down for an excerpt!
Chiara and Jax were high-school sweethearts, until Jax left town without a word or a backward glance. Now he’s back … and he needs her help to save his brother’s shop. Being together in the tiny store re-ignites all their old feelings—and a whole lot of new ones—but can she risk having her heart broken again?
“Jax and Chiara’s second chance story is a gorgeous tale of falling in love…again. Serena Bell’s skillful use of emotion and her ability to weave a scene make for a breathtaking romance. Cannot wait for the next installment of the series!”
—Christina Hovland, Author of Going Down on One Knee
“Where is he?” Jax demanded.
“It’s not my place to tell you that,” Chiara said.
“He’s my brother.”
Against his better judgment, his voice had risen, and her eyes narrowed. “You can’t just show up here and talk to me like that—after what you did—” She stopped. “Did it occur to you that maybe he doesn’t want to see you?”
The anger in her voice cut through the thickness of his own frustration, shut him right down. He took a deep breath. There were freckles across the bridge of her nose that he didn’t remember. A smattering on her cheeks, the fair skin underneath bright pink with the heat of her emotion. Her eyes flashed with it.
And suddenly he was so ashamed of himself that he could barely stand it. She was right, of course. After what he’d done to her, he had no right to speak to her at all, let alone demand anything of her.
“He doesn’t want to see me?” he asked. “Or you don’t?”
She stood very still. Only her fingers moved, fidgeting with something on the counter. A game piece, he thought. She turned it over in her hand, moved it between her fingers, set it down again.
“Both,” she said. The heat had gone out of her voice. Which made him feel worse. She said it calmly, like she’d had ten years to get used to the idea. Like she didn’t much care anymore. Which he deserved, but still.
He almost told her right that second, just blurted it all out. He’d always been a little bit afraid that the first time he laid eyes on her it would all come spilling out. The whole story—why he’d left, why he’d never gotten in touch. Right after he’d left, he’d fantasized that he’d be able to tell her someday. He’d pictured her listening—angry at first, but then, somehow, willing to forgive.
That had been ten years ago, and he still couldn’t tell her.