by: Viv Royce
Series: Little Shops on Heart Street
Genre: Contemporary Romance/Sweet Romance/Small-Town
Release Date: January 13, 2020
Publisher: Entangled Publishing ~ Bliss
Amazon | Paperback | Barnes & Noble | iTunes | Kobo | Goodreads
Ya gotta have heart.
Just as free-spirited bookstore employee Cleo Davis faces closure of her beloved shop, the owner informs her it will continue as part of the successful Stephens chain. When the chain’s risk assessor, the very reserved, very attractive Mark Stephens, enters the store to look over her business plan, Cleo clashes with him right away. Oil and water have nothing on them.
Mark has always followed the rules. But the minute he steps into vibrant and spunky Cleo’s store, he knows he’s in trouble. One moment he’s in her “craft corner” painting bookends with kids, the next in a bidding war with Cleo at a charity auction. He can’t deny that opposites attract, and Cleo’s vivacious personality has him rethinking his life in more ways than one.
But when Cleo’s store officially becomes part of the bookstore chain, Mark will become her boss…and completely off limits.
*NOTE* A Valentine Proposal is clean read, a super sweet small town romance, think a Hallmark movie, with just hand holding and kisses (no sex scenes at all, also not behind closed doors).
“Mark!” A little girl came running for him and showed him her bookend. He had helped her paint it a vibrant pink, the smudges were left on his hands, and now she had put stickers on it: tiny flowers and hearts and birds. The paint was only half dry, and one of the birds shifted, like it was flying across her bookend.
She held it out to him so he could see better. Step back.
Too late. The bookend made contact with his pants, and when she pulled back, a pink print appeared on the fabric. The girl looked at it and whispered, “Oops.” Her shoulders sagged, and she didn’t dare look up at him.
“That’s okay,” he rushed to say. “These are old clothes.” It did hurt a bit to call the pants belonging to a five-hundred dollar suit old clothes, but hey, as long as she didn’t burst out crying…
She perked up and smiled again. “These are my old clothes, too. Look, I put the bird here.”
He squatted to study it up close. “It’s great. Are you going to keep it yourself? Put it in your room?” Maybe buy a book or two at Rook to put between your bookends? Cleo has to make some sales off tonight.
“No, it’s for Gran. She has a lot of books.” She leaned on his knee with her free hand, and when she pulled away, there were little pink fingerprints. He rose to his feet as she ran away to show her bookend to others. With his thumb he gingerly rubbed at the fingerprints, hoping he could scrape off the still wet paint, but that only seemed to make it worse.
“Sorry about that.” Cleo stood by his side and eyed him worriedly. She tilted her head a bit, and a lock of hair that had come loose dangled against her cheek. “I don’t remember the old household trick for getting wet paint off cloth.”
I don’t remember anything when you look at me like we’re the only people in this room. He cleared his throat. “No problem. I should really have worn old clothes. I mean, who goes to a crafting event with paint and stuff in a good suit, huh?”
“I bet you didn’t bring any old clothes.” Cleo leaned back on her heels, her eyes sparkling with a challenge. “Or even own any?”
“The first guess may be true, but the second betrays a gross misunderstanding of who I am.” With aplomb, Mark showed her his paint-stained hands. “These hands can make anything you want.”
Cleo looked them over, and a grin tugged at her lips. One of the heart stickers had come off the little girl’s bookend and was now on the side of his hand.
She held it out to him so he could see better. Step back.
Too late. The bookend made contact with his pants, and when she pulled back, a pink print appeared on the fabric. The girl looked at it and whispered, “Oops.” Her shoulders sagged, and she didn’t dare look up at him.
“That’s okay,” he rushed to say. “These are old clothes.” It did hurt a bit to call the pants belonging to a five-hundred dollar suit old clothes, but hey, as long as she didn’t burst out crying…
She perked up and smiled again. “These are my old clothes, too. Look, I put the bird here.”
He squatted to study it up close. “It’s great. Are you going to keep it yourself? Put it in your room?” Maybe buy a book or two at Rook to put between your bookends? Cleo has to make some sales off tonight.
“No, it’s for Gran. She has a lot of books.” She leaned on his knee with her free hand, and when she pulled away, there were little pink fingerprints. He rose to his feet as she ran away to show her bookend to others. With his thumb he gingerly rubbed at the fingerprints, hoping he could scrape off the still wet paint, but that only seemed to make it worse.
“Sorry about that.” Cleo stood by his side and eyed him worriedly. She tilted her head a bit, and a lock of hair that had come loose dangled against her cheek. “I don’t remember the old household trick for getting wet paint off cloth.”
I don’t remember anything when you look at me like we’re the only people in this room. He cleared his throat. “No problem. I should really have worn old clothes. I mean, who goes to a crafting event with paint and stuff in a good suit, huh?”
“I bet you didn’t bring any old clothes.” Cleo leaned back on her heels, her eyes sparkling with a challenge. “Or even own any?”
“The first guess may be true, but the second betrays a gross misunderstanding of who I am.” With aplomb, Mark showed her his paint-stained hands. “These hands can make anything you want.”
Cleo looked them over, and a grin tugged at her lips. One of the heart stickers had come off the little girl’s bookend and was now on the side of his hand.
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