It's Been A Year

By Katie Bingham-Smith

A standalone small town romance, featuring a chiseled, take charge man and a clumsy chocolatier. This sizzling forbidden love rom-com will make you laugh and have you begging for these two star-crossed lovers to get together. 

 

Everyone's been telling August she's a mess for so long she's starting to believe it. Other than her chocolate shop, she can't keep anything in her life together. When she catches her lying boyfriend texting with another woman, on Valentine's Day of all days, the last thing she wants is to be comforted by his brother. Who cares if he's ridiculously big and strong with piercing blue eyes and says all the right things? 

 

Lowell shouldn't want his brother's ex-girlfriend. But he can't help himself. For one, he's never been close with his brother Jake. And what he did to August wasn't right. There's something about her clumsiness and thick brown hair he finds incredibly sexy. He was there when their relationship fell apart and listened when August said she wanted nothing to do with him after he tried to comfort her. But he's kept his feelings to himself for long enough. Now Lowell is determined to show August how he really feels. After all, it's been a year. 

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Katie Bingham-Smith
• Release date: Jan 1, 2024
• ISBN: 9798988479352

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

August

Jake rolls over and hits me in the face with his hand. It takes me a second to realize where I am. I must have fallen asleep while waiting for him to come home from his meeting last night.

He said he’d be home at six on the nose and couldn’t wait for his Valentine’s Day gift. But before I gave him his Jayson Tatum jersey, I wanted to give him his first treat. So, at exactly ten of six I stripped naked, lay in front of his fireplace, and covered myself in my handmade chocolates.

Being the owner of Chocolate Curls, a little chocolate shop on the corner of Main Street in Buckland, Maine, has its advantages. I love my job and what I’ve created, mostly because it’s the only place where I feel like I have a handle on things. Everywhere else, I’m known as the messy brunette with ears that stick out too far and chocolate smeared on her neck.

My parents always tell me I don’t stop and think before I do or say something, which is probably true seeing as salted-caramels and a fresh Brazilian wax don’t exactly mix.

Salted caramels are Jake’s favorite candy, and Valentine’s Day is my favorite holiday. I wanted to surprise him with something he’d remember.

At least I’ll definitely remember it. Ouch. Salt and a smooth vag is a terrible combination.

Speaking of terrible combinations, chocolates and fireplaces and being naked don’t really mix either, but I didn’t think my own boyfriend would stand me up on Valentine's Day. However, I thought I timed it all right and Jake would walk in and tell me how sexy and creative I am.

Instead, I was a mess in under five minutes, which isn’t new, but it’s the thought that counts.

After a shower, a few glasses of wine, and no response from Jake after texting and calling him several times, I ate some leftover pizza.

Alone.

Then, I watched a stupid, sappy Hallmark movie that made me incredibly jealous of the main character, who definitely isn’t a mess like me.

Jake’s been working some late nights, and says his job as a financial adviser is at risk with all this Al stuff, so after my sad meal, I headed up to his bedroom and turned on another Hallmark movie and fell asleep.

I’ve been trying to be an understanding girlfriend, but to be late on Valentine’s Day without a call or a text is a shitty move.

I didn’t even hear him come in last night. Or maybe it was this morning?

I hear him now though. His snoring is so damn loud, I’m sure the entire block can hear him.

Jake is on top of his army green comforter, and his tie is loose around his neck. He’s on his side, his open mouth in my face, and he smells like vinegar and spoiled apples and sweat.

I close my eyes and roll on my back to get some fresh air because good Lord, I think I’m drunk from his sweat and breath fumes.

His phone lights up, and I see it’s still clutched in his hand. After another flash, then another, I look down and see his brother, Lowell, has left quite a few messages.

Jake lets out a huge snore that sounds like a buzz saw, and I stumble to the bathroom, my scrunchie sliding out of my hair as I do.

After I take a much needed pee, I paw around the dark room for my scrunchie as another flash of light comes from Jake’s phone. When I make my way back to bed and grab my phone from the bedside table, I see it’s almost six in the morning—enough time to wake Jake up with my mouth, just how he likes, then shower and head to work.

The day of love has come and gone, but Chocolate Curls will be busy since it’s a cold Saturday, and people love to browse all the quaint shops in Buckland.

Of course, I’m excited to see what Jake got me for Valentine’s Day. I’m sure there’s a little pink bag or dainty jewelry box or a plush robe waiting for me downstairs. He probably didn’t want to wake me up last night even though I left him a few messages telling him to make sure he woke me up because I was excited to give him the jersey he’s been talking about since Christmas.

After securing my hair into a ponytail, I get into position by bending over Jake’s hips.

I stop when his phone lights up again, another text from his brother, Lowell.

Okay, now I’m worried because Jake and Lowell rarely speak and have a strained relationship. Jake says Lowell thinks he’s better than everyone in the rest of the family, which seems to be true from the few times I’ve met Lowell over the last two years. So what if he volunteers on Sunday mornings at the soup kitchen and is the most sought-after mason in the state of Maine. He doesn't have to be so damn smug.

Lowell hardly ever comes to family gatherings, and when he does he leaves early. I’ve seen him around town a few times because when he’s been working on a fireplace or stone wall near my condo or Chocolate Curls, he always pops by to say hello, although I’m not sure why because he just stares at me and doesn’t say much. The guy never smiles either. Like never. It’s unnerving.

Lowell is blond with a chiseled Brad Pitt-esque face and piercing blue eyes. Which I guess is hot if you’re into that kind of man. And the only time he talks is when he’s passing judgment. Like the time he came into the shop and had the nerve to ask me why I was with his brother because he thought I could do better.

What a prick.

As much as I want to please my boyfriend right now, then open my gift and give Jake his, I really should make sure there isn’t a family emergency.

Jake obviously had too much to drink last night at the work meeting, probably to keep up with his boss, and might need me to wake him up if something serious happened because from the sounds of his airway, he’s not going to wake up on his own anytime soon.

I can’t just ignore an influx of messages from the brother he never talks to at six in the morning.

Jake doesn’t even flinch when I shake him and say his name, then yell it. Someone may as well be sawing logs in my ear. I can’t hear myself think at this point.

I give up and slide his phone out of his hand, squinting at the screen when another message comes in.

A message that is definitely not from Lowell, unless Lowell now has fantastic breasts and a lacy red bra and is sexting his brother.

My heart thumps, and I tap on the message before Jake’s phone asks me for the passcode, which I know by heart because I look over his shoulder when he punches it in just like any other girlfriend would.

Nausea burns in my stomach, and all my muscles go weak.

My thumb scrolls through the messages, and I feel like I’m levitating over my own body.

I know you said not to text you tonight, but I had so much fun! Here’s something to get you through until I see you at work on Monday.

I stare at the two, very high breasts that are spilling over a red lacy bra and my hand covers my flat chest.

Most of the texts are from Red Bra, and I remind myself to breathe as I scroll to see if Jake has messaged whoever this is, because maybe it’s all a mistake.

Without even thinking, I’m off the bed, pacing the room, my core hot and heavy.

Jake is