Stephanie  Archer

He'll make her a hot girl, but can he make her his girl? Shy, quiet Hannah is surrounded by handsome, sensitive, swoon-worthy men...who are fictional. As her thirtieth birthday looms, she takes stock of her life: her small-town bookstore isn't making ends meet and she's never been in love. Something needs to change. She knows exactly who's going to help her. Women fall head over heels for laid-back, confident Wyatt, but all he cares about is surfing.
The only thing holding him back from going pro? His non-existent social media presence. When Hannah offers to run his social media in exchange for lessons, it's too good to pass up. He'll coax the pretty bookworm out of her shell, but they'll do it his way. Disastrous surf lessons, dive bar karaoke, a romance-only bookstore and a sparkly dress that makes her feel beautiful--spending time with Wyatt is nothing like Hannah expected. But he's all wrong for her... right? A spicy, hilarious small-town friends-to-lovers romantic comedy with a guaranteed HEA.
This is the second book in the Queen's Cove series, but can be read as a standalone.

The Wrong Mr. Right

nanafark

I still stayed up late reading last night. I couldn’t help myself.

I didn’t swim in the ocean because it was too cold most of the year. Sometimes I’d put my feet in and walk along the shore.

That lazy grin returned. “It’s not, but it’s something you learn by doing.”

“Why not enjoy what we have while it’s here,” Wyatt said, quieter this time. “Here for a good time, not for a long time.”

 over; the hard part is me having to spend time around people and convince them to like me.”

He frowned. “You don’t need to convince anyone to like you. People either like you, or they don’t know you well enough, or they don’t matter.”

“Books are all about fantasy, getting immersed in a story and characters. People read as an escape…”

“You’ve got more homework, bookworm.”

Her eyebrows rose and her eyes brightened. “What is it?”

“Round up twenty of your favorite books.”

She paused. “That’s it? I don’t need to run naked down Main Street or something?”

I laughed. “What? I would never make you do that.”

Her shoulder lifted in a shrug and she shot me another smile as we approached the truck.

“You’re trying to push me past my comfort zone.”

The idea of other people, people like Beck, seeing Hannah naked was past 

“Jesus fucking Christ, bookworm, where’d you learn to kiss like this,” Wyatt groaned against my mouth in between kisses. “I thought about you all fucking night. All day. I was going insane, thinking about his hands on you.”

The way she had gazed up at me last night in her room, so trusting, her eyes all hazy and fucking gorgeous, it felt fucking incredible.

To have her look at me like she wanted me, it readjusted something in my chest and that piece wouldn’t go back to where it was before.

Her intuition was sharpening, she was learning the perfect timing of the waves, she was learning which waves to catch and which to let go because they were too messy, and when the ocean tossed her off her board?

She laughed. More and more, she laughed. She was learning it didn’t matter if she failed. It didn’t matter if she didn’t nail that one wave, because there’d be another. There was always another. Each wave existed only in the moment and then it was gone forever.

The Wrong Mr. Right quotes

Join the club