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Chapters (61)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. 35
  38. 36
  39. 37
  40. 38
  41. 39
  42. 40
  43. 41
  44. 42
  45. 43
  46. 44
  47. 45
  48. 46
  49. 47
  50. 48
  51. 49
  52. 50
  53. 51
  54. EPILOGUE
  55. THANK YOU!
  56. MORE FROM VICTORIA WALTERS
  57. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  58. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  59. ALSO BY VICTORIA WALTERS
  60. Boldwood Ever After
  61. About Boldwood Books

‘I had no idea he had another family. And I’m scared too…’

‘Of what?’

‘Of being like him.’

I shook my head. ‘I don’t think you are. You didn’t give up on love. You started writing again; you gave Hayley a new book. And I’ve read it. When I Met You is your best book yet. That can’t be written by a man who thinks love doesn’t exist.’

‘I started writing it before Dad told us. It took months for me to be able to even open up the document again.’

‘But you did. And you’re here trying to save your career because it means something to you.’

‘Freya, you are…’ Jake didn’t finish that thought but kissed me, rolling me onto my back. He trailed kisses down my neck to my chest, moving his hand between my legs. I gasped as he touched me. He lifted off me and raised an eyebrow. ‘How much sleep do you need tonight?’ He grinned and I knew he was done talking. I was so happy he had opened up to me, though and had trusted me with his secret. I felt closer to him. This felt so different to anything I had ever had before. I wanted to keep it. But I knew that was a secret I wasn’t able to trust him with yet.

So, instead, I giggled. ‘Who needs sleep?’

* * *

Voices outside the room awoke me with a start the following morning. I opened my eyes and looked at Jake’s sleeping profile. Our legs were tangled together and my palm rested on his bare chest. Images from last night replayed in my mind like a movie. It had been so romantic to dance with him in Times Square, and then when we came back to my room, that sweetness turned into something smoking hot. I bit my lip remembering how good Jake’s kisses and touches had felt.

And then he had finally opened up to me. Hope sprung in my heart that Jake might see this as something that could carry on once we went home to London. He’d told me about his father, and how it had affected him. Why he had lied to Davis but also almost gave up on writing about love. But he hadn’t. He was here fighting for his career and he was finally being honest about the past six months. I loved the fact he had listened to me. That he respected me. And had wanted to tell me the truth. That meant more to me than he probably knew.