Excerpt 1

“Hey, Angel.” He bent at the waist, stretching, but twisting his neck as he did, so he could send me a smile. His caramel eyes were such a beautiful shade, just this side of topaz, and his lips were lush and pink and pillow-soft. He called me Angel because according to him my hair, all blond curls and long made me look like an angel. I didn’t mind him calling me that, I secretly loved it, but when my brothers did it too, then I wanted to murder them in their sleep. 

I loved seeing him because he was my entire world and I wanted to tell him everything. 

I hated seeing him, because I didn’t know what to say to him, and how in God’s name would I ever be able to tell him anything? 

“Hey.” I sketched a wave, the card obvious in my hand and, embarrassed, I shoved it deep into my pocket, hoping he didn’t notice. 

“Are you adding a wish?” he asked, then he stalked over to me, and I swear I was going to die on the spot. “I should do that as well.” He lifted the lid to the sheltered card box, and picked up a pen, which he proceeded to tap on the surface. “I’ll have to owe the tree a dollar. I’ll bring it back later.” He glanced up at the tree as if he was apologizing to the skeleton of branches. “I don’t know what to wish for.” He side-eyed me. “What are you wishing for?”

Oh god, my tongue was a hundred times too big for my mouth. I couldn’t tell him all my secrets; I wouldn’t have known where to start. I let out what sounded like a squeak, and same as my brothers, he didn’t pause to let me answer, because he knew as well as they did that I didn’t talk much, that I was shy.

He was a professional hockey player, a star in his own right, twenty-one and with the world at his feet. I’d loved him forever, and I hated that I didn’t see much of him. Just man up and say it. I love you, Kai. Can you kiss me?

Excerpt 2

“What now?” Archie asked, clutching his precious notebook to his chest. He was old-school like that, everything written down in longhand, but then he was close to retiring at sixty-two, and kept telling me the old ways were the best. Maybe he was right—in an age of texting emojis, there was an intimacy in writing. He had to come to terms with one of his clients deciding to retire all on his own account, but he’d never tried to stop me.

“I’m going home for good now.” 

“To Oak Tree?” 

“Wishing Tree,” I corrected him, and smiled at the fond memories conjured up by hearing the name of the town where I’d grown up. 

It was time to go home and face up to all the things I’d messed up with my family, apologize to my dad and sister, offer a ton of babysitting, have beers with old friends, and maybe get my head on straight. Find out if I could work hard and make my dreams a reality. I’d spent so many years flirting with Bailey, and then pulling back, scared of hurting him, terrified of having nothing to offer him, and I couldn’t do this anymore. I needed to be honest with him, and to say I loved him and that he was my everything. 

Archie and I stared at each other for the longest time, and I could see my agent’s brain spinning until finally, he folded his arms across his chest and smiled.

“I’m glad you’re searching for something else; I’ve been worried about you.”

“I’ve been worried about myself.” For so long I’d been Kai-the-hockey-player, pushing through injury, aiming for the cup, being part of the team, and my head was so messed up. I’d lost my mom to cancer five years ago and I’d used hockey as a crutch, the grief pushed so far down that I’d almost forgotten. It had festered and become something so big I couldn’t ignore it anymore. 

“I’ll be here if you want to talk about the future, although…” He stopped and then huffed a laugh. “You’re my last client, and you know what? I’m sixty-two and I think I might just be retiring as well.”

“I’m sorry, shit—”

“No, don’t be. Miriam wants us to move back to Vancouver, spend time with the grandkids, and I get the feeling the time is right.”

“For both of us.”

“Yeah.”

“All I know now is that I need to go home. I owe apologies, I need to make amends, and then there’s…”

“What?”

“A man I can’t stop thinking about.”

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