Title: Forever Hearts
Author: CJ MartÃn
Genre: New Adult/Contemporary Romance
Release Date: August 3, 2017
Blurb
Best friends arenât meant to fall in love with each otherâ¦
From the time I was five, Jesse Collins was my world. He was my partner in crime. My best friend. My confidant. We were inseparable. Soul mates. Forever hearts. But all that changed when he took on a new role. Lover. He told me to trust. To have faith. To believe in our love. And I did. But we all eat lies when the heart is hungry. And mine was damn hungry for Jesse Collins. I couldn't stop myself from falling for him, even if I wanted to. This is our story. The good. The bad. The heartbreaking. But in the end, will the thread that binds us together be strong enough to weather the storm? I used to think so, but now Iâm not quite as sure⦠Forever Hearts is a friends to lovers new adult romance. If you like sexy and sweet, hot and handsome, mixed with a whole lot of spice, then youâll love this steamy romance by best-selling author CJ MartÃn.
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Excerpt
I shower, get dressed, make it all the way to my car, before I realize that I left my cell phone in my apartment. I pat my pockets, check my purse, and glance at the dashboard to see if the Bluetooth symbol is illuminatedâit isnât. I groan audibly as I switch off the ignition and rush back into the cold. Itâs mid-March, yet the thermometer has barely reached thirty degrees this week, and with the wind whipping through the air, the âreal feelâ is in the single digits.
Back inside my apartment I locate my phone on the kitchen counter, still plugged into the charger. As I pick it up, my eyes scan over several notifications, one of which is a text message from Bill.
Bill: Hi, Sweetie. Just got back from the airport with my parents. Reservations are at seven. Are you on your way?
I glance at the clock. Itâs five forty-five. I can make it across town with plenty of time to spareâI think. Billâs perpetually early, as in, if we do not arrive twenty minutes prior to the start of any functionâand I do mean anyand every functionâ he panics. Heâs chronically early; Iâm chronically late. We balance each other outâ¦in theory, anyway.
My thumb swipes the screen, but my fingers are too cold to register the touch, so I drop the phone and blow into my hands in an attempt to warm them up. A minute later, I type a quick message to Bill.
Riley: Omw. Left ten minutes ago.
This is an outright lie; Iâm still standing in my kitchen and I would never text and drive. He should know that after nine months of dating, but he simply agrees.
Bill: Ok.
His response is simple. Quick. Efficient. Just like him.
I knock on Billâs front door thirty minutes laterâtraffic was heavier and slower than I anticipated. His mother and father are seated on the sofa. Itâs not the first time Iâm meeting them, but every time they visit I have the feeling I should be walking on eggshells. Theyâre prim and proper, formal, refinedâthe exact opposite of me.
âMr. and Mrs. Lewg.â I smile as I embrace first his father, then his mother, in the worldâs most awkward hug. âSo good to see you.â
âLovely to see you, dear.â Mrs. LewgâCarole, though sheâs never told me to call her thatâsays. âBill was just telling us he has a special announcement before we leave for dinner.â
âOh?â I raise my eyebrows as I turn toward Bill. My mind quickly scans over our last few conversations. I canât remember him talking about any major deal specifically, apart from the new property, but that deal closed weeks ago. All right, okay, I may not pay one hundred percent attention when he blabs on and on about investment properties or the price per square foot of Building A versus Building B, but can you blame me? Commercial real estate is freaking boring. Take it from me, I should know; itâs all Bill ever seems to talk about.
âRiley.â Bill makes no effort to move from in front of the mantle where he stands, but he extends his hand and pulls me toward him. âCan you come here for one second? Thereâs something I want to ask you. Something Iâve wanted to ask you for a long time.â
The smiling face of my roommate pops to mind and her words bounce around my brain. Youâll be engaged before me. But surely thatâs not what this is. We havenât been together that long. I havenât even given him a key to my apartment yet. He just met my family.
âRiley Ann Jones.â He takes both my hands, and I will myself to close my mouth, which gapes open in the most unflattering way.
Oh, shit. Oh, no. Fuck. Please donât let him be asking what I think heâs going toâ
âThis past yearâ¦â ânine months, I automatically correct in my headâ âhas been the happiest year of my life. Youâre everything that I want in a life partner: smart, beautiful, kind, honestâ¦â
I swallow. Iâm not so honest.
He drops to one knee, looks up at me with caring brown eyes. âWould you do me the honor of becoming my wife?â
My gaze darts around the room, heart beating wildly in my chest, not from excitement, but from fear.
His mother smiles at me encouragingly, as Bill cracks open a small, velvet jewelry box. âIt was my grandmotherâs. Itâs been in our family for generations. I asked my mother to bring it in with her.â He waves with his free hand to where his parents sit. âItâs part of the reason why they flew in early.â He smiles again. âSo, will you? Will you be my wife?â
Holy fuck. Bill scrunches his nose and I press my lips together, sending another silent prayer heavenward that I didnât just say fuck in front of his parents. In front of my (potential) future in-laws.
âKind of waiting on an answer here, Riley.â His voice jokes, but I can see the tension around his eyes.
I squeeze my eyes tight, swallow a deep breath, and nod. âYes.â My voice is the faintest of whispers. âYes, Iâll marry you.â
âWonderful!â his mother exclaims, clapping her hands in front of her chest. Bill pulls himself to his feet and slips the ring onto my left finger. Itâs delicate, a solitaire, round-cut stone, light and classy, but it feels like a heavy anchor pulling me down. Iâm suffocating. Sinking. Drowning.
Mr. Lewg claps Bill on the back. âCongratulations, son.â They shake hands as though theyâre business associates rather than father and son.
Bill locks eyes with me, the megawatt smile that is plastered on every billboard within a thirty-mile radius beams at me. He mouths âI love you,â but all I can do is nod, because thereâs only one thought looping through my mind right now, and if Iâm not careful, the words will escape and topple the house of cards that Iâve struggled to build this entire year.
Those words are on my mind throughout our indulgent, five-course meal.
Theyâre there later that night when Bill makes love to me and tells me how happy he is.
And theyâre still there long after his breath has slowed and he has fallen asleep. Then, and only then, do I let the devastating truth fall past my lips:
Heâs not Jesse.
Author Bio
CJ MartÃn lives in Pennsylvania with her wonderful husband and her adorable (sometimes infuriating) dog, Albert. She is an avid reader and has been known to spend her days ignoring her responsibilities while engrossed in a good book. She enjoys traveling and yoga.
You can find her on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and Pinterest.
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