Escape to Brookwell Island and meet the women of The Beach Readers Silent Book Club. They come for the quiet reading and hunky heroes, but they stay for the sage advice on coping with life’s unexpected plot twists. Whether it’s a crush-worthy boss, an old flame, or a wealthy new resident, these secret chapters are filled with the kind of heart and happy endings you can enjoy in a single afternoon.
The Beach Readers Silent Book Club is coming to Brookwell Island…starting with Willow’s Secret Chapter!
About the book:
What do you do when your impossible crush becomes impossible to avoid?
Willow Hextall’s crush on Levi Garrison drove her to resign from his coffee empire to protect herself from certain heartbreak. But her small-town peace turns into heart-fluttering mayhem when Levi comes to town.
Levi isn’t about to waste this unexpected second chance with Willow. When she agrees to a dinner date, he knows he has one chance to prove they’re meant to be together.
One lavish date. One fiery kiss that erases every reason she walked away from him.
But when Levi unknowingly outbids Willow for the local coffee shop, their professional history turns into a high-stakes personal rivalry.
Scrambling to make amends, Levi offers Willow partnership, passion, and his heart. All she has to do is match his offer.
Curl up with this page-turning small-town romance about second chances, impossible crushes, and learning that sometimes the best chapter is the one you didn’t plan.
Sneak Peek!
Chapter 1
Willow Hextall biked through another cool, damp evening on Brookwell Island. A storm had moved through earlier in the day and left the pavement glistening under the streetlights. A rain-scented ocean breeze caressed her skin and teased her hair as she pedaled down Central Avenue.
In the quiet darkness, she paused for a moment in front of Java Fix, the coffee shop where she usually met her book club friends. Closed for nearly a month already, the shop had been a haven for her when she’d first moved to Brookwell. She smiled to herself, thinking back on those melancholy days of uncertainty. Java Fix was where she’d met good friends who had become as close as family. Sitting at the table in the window that overlooked Central Avenue, she’d reviewed her finances, created a business plan, spoken with the owners who wanted to retire. Eventually she’d made an offer to buy them out. If all went well, in a few short weeks, she would be the new owner. And after a brief remodeling and rebranding, the book club would gather here again.
She would forever be grateful she’d found a permanent place in this delightful touristy town. Grateful too for her best friend giving her a soft place to land when she needed it.
Brimming with hope and barely-tempered excitement, she biked away. Having been the Java Fix manager for over a year, she knew exactly which updates would serve the locals and tourists alike. The original owners had been excited about her suggestions, but unwilling to take the leap or make significant changes. Their focus had understandably shifted to their grandkids out of town and they were anticipating the move.
Willow envied that closeness, knowing something like that would never be her experience. Her parents disapproved of most of her choices since she graduated law school and refused to toe the line by accepting a post at the family firm. Her parents weren’t built to make the effort to adjust, reach out, or build a bridge to their only daughter.
The child who baffled them so much they labeled her difficult, stubborn, and wayward.
Being okay with their limits was easier now that she felt settled and secure in Brookwell. She’d found her niche, created her own career path, and claimed her independence with both hands.
She didn’t dwell on the family that didn’t know how to accept her or support her. Loving them was best done from a distance. It was a matter of self-preservation. There was only so much criticism and judgement she could handle gracefully. A lifetime of experience proved that stating her needs calmly was as futile as losing her temper.
Leaning into the turn toward the Inn, she coasted along the driveway, admiring the way the historic building glowed from within. Always inviting, hinting at good times and great memories in the making.
The Inn manager, Trina Ellington, had done a marvelous job in recent years bringing the Inn back to its original glory and creating a bigger role within the community. Willow had been a huge fan of the first annual Haunted Tea that added a fun adult-focused outing during the Brookwell fall festival.
As a founding member of The Beach Readers Silent Book Club, Trina happily offered up the tea room when the coffee shop closed. Naturally, everyone had been in full agreement. Meeting at the tea room was lovely. The space was quiet and the refreshments were always superb.
Willow missed being the hostess, the way she had been when they gathered in the coffee shop. Trina had so much on her plate already, being a new wife and mom. After years of work in the service industry, Willow could recognize what it meant to a person to get away from their job environment. Managing the coffee shop gave her a break from her full-time job as a freelance proofreader for various law firms.
The service she provided fell into the niche career category, but it fit her. She stayed sharp and engaged with her degree, but she didn’t have to show up in court. And balanced with the coffee shop hours, she never felt isolated from people or friends.
She biked right up to the front door at the Inn and locked her bike in the rack near the path that led to the service entrance. The lock was likely overkill. Brookwell was the safest town she’d lived in, but old habits died hard. And why tempt fate?
Walking back around to the front entrance, she waved at the clerk behind the reception desk as she passed by.
“Hey!” He smiled. “They’re all set for you in the tea room.”
“Thanks.” Although she couldn’t recall his name, she recognized his face. That feeling—all over town—was a happy surprise. She loved that novel sense of familiarity with everyone in Brookwell. That pleasant notion that any one of the locals was a new friend waiting to happen.
The people and pace here were completely different from the Boston suburbs where she’d been born into a family of lawyers. Even her family holidays left her feeling out of place. If walking on eggshells had been an Olympic sport, she might’ve taken the gold medal and given her parents something to brag about. Oh, well. She’d escaped her stiff and stifling upbringing, becoming living proof that money didn’t buy happiness—especially not old money with so many strings attached.
The tea room was situated at the back of the historic Inn, overlooking a courtyard garden that somehow looked perfect no matter the season. The antique French doors were parted slightly and Willow peeked inside to find Trina’s staff finishing the setup.
“Oh, wow!” She slipped inside. “This looks awesome! Thank you so much.”
She started to ask if Trina was close, when her phone hummed in her pocket. The text was from her friend, explaining she wouldn’t be there tonight. She and Rhett were catching up with one of his old pals who had come into town unexpectedly.
We’ll miss you. Willow texted back.
She’d hoped to get Trina’s thoughts on a new fantasy series she’d started last month. The Beach Readers Silent Book Club didn’t focus on reading one book together. They were in the habit of reading in general and making time to do that together. They traded recommendations all the time about books, author events, and life in general. Aside from her best friend, Grace, who’d opened her home when Willow needed it, this group of women had become her first friends in town. After a year, Willow honestly felt as if she had the best friends in the world. All of them had been extremely supportive when she told them she’d put in an offer on the coffee shop.
Willow was eyeing the hot beverage selection, debating between hot chocolate or spiced chai, when she heard the rush of soft footsteps on the carpet.
Grace Teague, her BFF since their freshman year at Duke, entered, looking stylish as always in a colorful smocked tunic dress with black tights and red kitten heels. Her curly red hair was barely contained by the black headband and her blue eyes were bright and full of excitement. “Are we the first ones here?”
“We are.” She hugged Grace. “Help me decide if I want tea or hot chocolate tonight.” They studied the options Trina had ordered from the kitchen.
“Hot chocolate obviously.” Grace caught her arm as Willow reached for the carafe. “Wait. Have you finished that psychic suspense trilogy?”
“Not quite. I’m on the last chapter of book two.”
“Okay, then definitely hot chocolate.”
Willow smiled to herself, delighted her friend knew her so well.
Grace moaned dramatically. “Trina ordered the mini-empanadas for us.” She plucked a small golden bite from the tray and bit into it, eyes closed. “I might owe her my first born for this alone. I didn’t get lunch today,” she explained, adding two more empanadas to a plate.
“She has a first-born,” Willow pointed out.
“True.” Grace’s eyes twinkled. “Offer still stands.”
Grace wasn’t keen on motherhood, even though her family expected her to find a husband and procreate to ensure another generation would be around to take over the Beach Belle when the time came.
“What do you think it will take for her to give me the recipe?”
Willow arched an eyebrow. “Do you really want it?”
“No, of course not,” Grace admitted. “If I managed to make them as well as the chefs here, I’d never eat anything else again.”
They were caught up in a fit of giggles as Holly Brooks, Scarlett Evans, and Charity Steiner arrived. It would only be the five of them tonight, lower than their average turnout. Willow craved this time with her friends, no matter the turnout. She always got a boost from the female energy—although once in a while Trina’s husband or book-loving uncle by marriage dropped in.
“Since we’ve started meeting here, I keep thinking we should grow the group,” Willow said as everyone helped themselves to refreshments. “The tea room has that vibe, y’know?”
“I get it,” Grace agreed. “Lots of room, for sure. But once we’re back in your coffee shop. It won’t feel that way.”
The ever-present hope in Willow’s chest expanded. “Thanks. I appreciate the positive thoughts.” Better to stay positive than dwell on the strange and continued silence on her offer. What happened to the owner’s excitement of passing their business into her hands?
“Have you thought of a new name yet?” Scarlett asked, taking a seat at the large round table Trina had set for them.
Willow shook her head. “I’ve been playing around with a few ideas that give a nod to the location. Brookwell Brew seems too obvious, but so far, it’s my favorite.”
Of course, brainstorming business names invariably left her thinking about Palmetto Perk, the coffee shop in Columbia where she’d worked before moving to Brookwell. But that business name wasn’t just taken, it was in the early franchise stages and she did not want to tie herself to that business model or the owner behind it.
Charity sat down, dropping her oversized tote into the chair beside her. “Am I the only one who feels like we’re a bookish version of Camelot when we meet here?” She ran her hands lightly over the layered tablecloths.
Everyone chuckled in agreement as they settled in, sending texts to Trina to thank her for the special treatment. The conversation turned to their current reads, meandering through the general news around town. Holly, one half of the editorial team for the local Brookwell Bugle, did her best to clarify fact from fiction, but sometimes it was impossible to know for sure. As a hopeful business owner, Willow always listened for any news about businesses on Central Avenue, insights on the seasonal traffic, and expected impact of special events.
The room grew quiet as the books and devices were opened. Willow’s concentration wandered and she countered the restlessness by making notes about drinks she would want to feature. She definitely wanted to continue the collaboration with the Bread Basket. Providing self-serve coffee to the bakery and offering two baked goods per day at the Java Fix had been highly lucrative for both parties.
And what if her offer wasn’t enough?
Before she realized it, she was searching for other businesses for sale in Brookwell and the nearby area. Huh. The rambling B&B a block off Central hadn’t found new ownership yet. She fell down a rabbit hole of real estate, adding a couple of vacation rental units in Charleston to her list of possible ventures. A vacation unit would mean a lower initial investment and far less work than an entire B&B. Plus, a higher likelihood of turning a more consistent profit than either the B&B or the coffee shop.
She sighed with relief when the soft timers started going off, reminding them they couldn’t linger here, lost in their books and sustained by an endless supply of snacks, tea, and cocoa, forever. Too many years of customer service prevented her from leaving first, although Grace and Scarlett had finally broken her habit of bussing the table and gathering up their trash.
Walking out through the lobby with Grace, she realized she’d left her notebook behind. “You go on.” She gave her friend a big hug. “Lunch tomorrow at Benny’s?”
“Fingers crossed,” Grace replied.
“If you get stuck, I’ll bring take out,” Willow promised as she hurried back to the tea room.
With her notebook in hand, she headed out toward the lobby. Distracted with tucking the notebook into her bag, she slammed hard into another guest and her bag spilled across the gorgeous marble flooring.
Strong, warm hands steadied her before she landed in a heap with her bag. “Are you—”
That voice. No. It couldn’t be him.
Her heart thundered with excitement. That only ever happened with one particular person. Ignoring the traitorous organ, she dared to look up, past the broad chest and into a familiar face.
Levi Garrison.
Of all the hotels in the world, why was he here?
And where was an escape hatch when she desperately needed one?
***
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