Chapters (39)
- Cover
- Praise for Fight or Flight
- Praise for New York Times bestselling author Samantha Young
- ALSO BY SAMANTHA YOUNG
- Epigraph
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
- Readers Guide
- Excerpt from FIGHT OR FLIGHT
- About the Author
- What’s next onyour reading list?
I shook her hand with a smile. “Nice to meet you. What can I do for you?”
“I always order my kids’ schoolbooks through Penny. Is that still possible?”
Erin wasn’t the first to come in and do so over the last few weeks, and I thought it was pretty cool that the locals spent their money at their independent store rather than get cheaper books at an online retailer.
“Of course.”
She handed over the list. Most of the titles on it were already on order, as the local schools had sent me their book lists for the fall term.
“I’ll just take your full name and phone number. It’s payment up front.”
As Erin pulled her bank card out of her purse, she said, “Did you hear?”
I raised an eyebrow at the speculation in her tone. “Hear what?”
Erin leaned across the counter conspiratorially. “I just saw Maggie Foster hugging Annie Foster outside the art gallery. It seems the feud is over.”
“Really?”
“Yup.” Erin seemed genuinely excited by the gossip, suggesting she was telling the truth.
Delight began to slowly trickle through me.
Annie and Maggie were reconciling? I grinned happily at the thought, and Erin returned the smile.
“It’s nice to see families coming together. Speaking of, I heard congratulations are in order.” She pointed to my ring finger.
“Oh, thanks.”
“What a catch.” She flushed. “I mean, of course, you are too, but he is easy on the eyes, and you’ll never want for anything.” With a cheeky wink, Erin strode out of the store after I promised to call her once the books came in.
Her last words made me laugh, thinking she meant it as an innuendo. Considering Roane wasn’t exactly a lothario, I wondered how she’d drawn that conclusion. Ach, who was I kidding? You only had to look at Roane to know he was good in bed. It was just something about the way he moved.
And his hands.
God, his hands.
I flushed just thinking about them.
Where was your fiancé when you needed him?
Fiancé.
I had a fiancé.
What a weird and wonderful turn my life had taken in such a short space of time.
“I should write a book,” I murmured to myself as I heard footsteps coming down the back staircase.
Viola and Lucas appeared, his arms wrapped around her as they shuffled into the store, cheeks flushed but clothes and hair fixed. I almost rolled my eyes at how mushy they were, but I knew Roane and I were just as bad.
“Thanks, Evie,” Vi said, grinning so hard, it was a wonder her cheeks didn’t crack.
“No problem.” I tried not to laugh. I glanced between them. “Are you doing okay with . . . everything?”
Viola’s smile fell as she looked up at Lucas.