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The Perfect Heart: Unspoken Secrets Series, #1
The Perfect Heart: Unspoken Secrets Series, #1
The Perfect Heart: Unspoken Secrets Series, #1
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The Perfect Heart: Unspoken Secrets Series, #1

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You will never be good enough for the wrong person…

 

My best friend and I were inseparable in school.

Until she moved away to follow her dreams and disappeared from my life entirely.

But now she's back, exploding into my life and turning it on its head.

Worse, I can't help but feel attracted to her, something I've never felt before.

But she isn't the girl from high school anymore. She's a woman.

A woman with secrets that might just destroy the life I've built for myself.

 

Unspoken Secrets Series

  • The Perfect Heart
  • A Heart's Journey
  • The Heart's Secret
LanguageEnglish
Release dateJan 4, 2024
ISBN9798224413454
The Perfect Heart: Unspoken Secrets Series, #1
Author

Lexy Timms

"Love should be something that lasts forever, not is lost forever."  Visit USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR, LEXY TIMMS https://www.facebook.com/SavingForever *Please feel free to connect with me and share your comments. I love connecting with my readers.* Sign up for news and updates and freebies - I like spoiling my readers! http://eepurl.com/9i0vD website: www.lexytimms.com Dealing in Antique Jewelry and hanging out with her awesome hubby and three kids, Lexy Timms loves writing in her free time.  MANAGING THE BOSSES is a bestselling 10-part series dipping into the lives of Alex Reid and Jamie Connors. Can a secretary really fall for her billionaire boss?

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    Book preview

    The Perfect Heart - Lexy Timms

    Unspoken Secrets Series

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    Book 1 – The Perfect Heart

    Book 2 – A Heart’s Journey

    Book 3 – The Heart’s Secret

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    The Perfect Heart Blurb

    A person and person kissing Description automatically generated

    YOU WILL NEVER BE GOOD enough for the wrong person...

    My best friend and I were inseparable in school.

    Until she moved away to follow her dreams and disappeared from my life entirely.

    But now she’s back, exploding into my life and turning it on its head.

    Worse, I can’t help but feel attracted to her, something I’ve never felt before.

    But she isn’t the girl from high school anymore. She’s a woman.

    A woman with secrets that might just destroy the life I’ve built for myself.

    A person and person kissing Description automatically generated

    Contents

    Unspoken Secrets Series

    Find Lexy Timms:

    The Perfect Heart Blurb

    Chapter 1

    Chapter 2

    Chapter 3

    Chapter 4

    Chapter 5

    Chapter 6

    Chapter 7

    Chapter 8

    Chapter 9

    Chapter 10

    Chapter 11

    Chapter 12

    Chapter 13

    Chapter 14

    Chapter 15

    Chapter 16

    Chapter 17

    Chapter 18

    Chapter 19

    Chapter 20

    Chapter 21

    Chapter 22

    Chapter 23

    Chapter 24

    Chapter 25

    Chapter 26

    Chapter 27

    Chapter 28

    Unspoken Secrets Series

    Dead Ahead FREE COPY

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    Chapter 1

    Nash

    ’NIGHT, NASH.

    I looked up from trying to force the key into the stubborn lock that kept the stacked tables, chairs, and heat lamps from mysteriously walking away to see one of my servers waving. I waved back at the young woman, nodding at her friend who waited down the sidewalk.

    See ya tomorrow, Angie. Take care on the way home.

    Will do.

    Angie pulled her faux-fur-lined hood over her head, stuffed her hands into the pockets of her parka, and joined her friend. I could hear their low conversation as they trudged down the empty sidewalk, past the dark storefronts, their boots crunching over the snow.

    With a final curse under my breath, letting out white puffs into the air, the key finally slipped into the lock, which I twisted with a satisfying click before straightening to stretch my back.

    The streetlights and strings of light outlining the buildings along Front Street were the only light source this late at night. Closing time for my bar was long after the other stores, restaurants, and breweries had closed. But I enjoyed the quiet and peace after a day full of people who came for the architecture, the lights, the snow, the food, and the curio shops.

    Checking to ensure the lock was secure, I dropped the key back into my pocket and walked back inside, glancing up at the wooden sign over the door with the name Tipsy Tiki in incongruous, scrolled lettering. Here in Leavenworth, Washington, every store and restaurant was required to have a sign out front that matched the town’s Bavarian village theme.

    I had grown up here, and when I had bought an old bar on its way out to make it my own, my slightly perverse nature had come up with the tropical name to go here in snowy, alpine Leavenworth. People got a good laugh, especially the tourists, but for the most part, no one cared. I didn’t even serve tropical cocktails—no more than anyone else, anyway—just the regular assortment of mostly local wine and beers. The menu was solidly bar food, though it was good bar food, if I did say so myself.

    The name was my personal joke, and I grinned as I returned inside.

    Angie had wiped down most of the bar, but I could see a few spots on the wood, highly polished and smooth from years of use, from decades of patrons leaning their arms on the surface, season after season. I bent to grab a polishing cloth and heard the door creak open, along with the faint ding from the alarm panel in my office.

    I stopped—hadn’t I locked the door behind me? But when I thought back, I couldn’t remember. I’d been too focused on enjoying my joke.

    We’re closed— I started, straightening with the cloth in hand, but we open at noon tomorrow for—

    The rest of the sentence evaporated from my mind, lost the second my gaze fell on the figure outlined by the streetlights outside.

    It was a woman, tall and slim and entirely, startingly familiar. The entire picture was enough to wipe words from my mind completely.

    Do you want me to come back tomorrow? she asked, pointing back to the door. Her tone said she was joking, but it had an edge of uncertainty like she was expecting me to throw her out.

    I took a breath to talk, but the words still wouldn’t come, and the expression on the woman’s face slipped more into uncertainty. I imagined that if I didn’t say anything, she would decide for herself and leave. That thought, thankfully, jump-started my brain.

    Halle?

    A little bit, anyway. It wasn’t the most intelligent way to start a conversation with someone you hadn’t seen in years.

    But she didn’t seem to mind, a smile growing on her face—that bright, beautiful smile I had missed so much.

    Hey, Nash. The door swung shut behind her, and she started across the room.

    I was out behind the bar the next heartbeat, meeting her halfway, just stopping myself from engulfing her in an enormous bear hug.

    We stood like that for a long moment, taking each other in. I was still trying to get over the fact that she was here, in the flesh, and this wasn’t some bizarre dream.

    The woman before me was the same woman I remembered in high school—willowy, long legs, and dark hair cascading in waves around her shoulders and down her back. Chocolate brown eyes watched me in turn, the same warmth and amused sparkle in her chocolate brown eyes, a flicker of amusement always dancing around one corner of her smile.

    Halle Morris. Or I guess it’s Jones now.

    Her smile faltered for a heartbeat, so fast I wasn’t sure I had seen it, before brightening again.

    Nash Jacobs.

    Just the sound of my name from her lips sent another shock of time displacement through me.

    So Mom said you finally bought that bar. I didn’t quite believe it until this moment.

    Her gaze moved around the space, taking in all the ways I had made it mine—the posters on the walls of the indie bands we had listened to in high school, the tables and chairs I’d restored myself, the dartboard that had at one time hung in my room, the one Halle had used to beat me soundly nearly every game we played.

    When her attention came back to me, her smile glowed with warm affection.

    I knew you would do it, she said. I knew you would open this bar.

    I laughed. You did?

    Halle shook her head, huffing a laugh. Of course. You always knew what you wanted to do. It was your dream and all you talked about in high school. When Mom told me you had bought the old Brewer’s Kettle, I drank a toast to you, by the way.

    My laugh became a grin, and I gestured over my shoulder with a jerk of my thumb. I know it’s late, but you want to toast together now?

    There was another heartbeat of hesitation I didn’t understand before Halle nodded, the warmth in her smile not quite reaching her eyes. Sure. I’d love that.

    Her heels clicked on the old wood of the floor as she followed me to the bar, sliding onto one of the stools as I reached for one of my best whiskies. 

    So what are you doing here? I nearly asked what she was doing in those clothes but managed to hold my tongue at the last second, focusing instead on pouring the amber liquid into a shot glass.

    Oh, just visiting was the answer. I looked up just in time to see Halle’s gaze drop to the scratched wood of the bar, her finger running up and down a particularly deep gouge before her eyes met mine again. It was an oddly vague answer, especially because she had no one to visit. Her mother had moved out of state five years before.

    Instead of pushing for more of an answer, I slid the shot glass across the bar and poured one for myself, which I held up. Halle clinked her glass against mine, and we both tipped them back.

    The whiskey’s fire still burning down my throat, I took the moment to look at Halle, better lit by the bar lights, and was surprised at the changes the years had created.

    I recognized the woman from high school, the girl who had been my best friend, with whom I had spent almost every waking moment. But I could also see the physical maturity, the way any remaining childhood roundness had faded from her face to leave sharper angles, even an odd gauntness that hadn’t been there before. Halle’s gaze echoed the bubbliness I had known in high school, always ready for a laugh, replaced with a more mature solemnity.

    You staying close by? I asked, pouring more whiskey into her glass. She thanked me with another small smile.

    Ish, she answered, throwing back her second shot. I came here first.

    I nearly choked on the shot I had just taken and wiped at my mouth with the back of my hand to cover my surprise. You came here first?

    Halle shrugged. I thought maybe I could make it before you closed, just to say hi.

    One more shot went down smoothly because I had no idea what to make of this situation, and Halle’s non-answers weren’t helping.

    I’ll take one more, too. Halle pushed her glass toward me and knocked it back a little too fast.

    I couldn’t help it—she had raised the glass with her left hand, and my eyes went to her wedding set, the band, and the diamond. But there was nothing there, only a lighter band of skin.

    For a moment, I almost asked, but instead the goosebumps on her arms caught my eye.  

    You look cold.

    I forgot my coat back where I’m staying.

    That didn’t look like she had forgotten anything. Her outfit, a skimpy jacket, a dress, and heels, was entirely wrong for the weather here, which someone who had grown up in Leavenworth would know. No one just forgot their coat before going out here in winter.

    Was it that easy to forget when you left for warmer climates?

    I didn’t mention her freshly scraped knees, either, or that she seemed to have forgotten her story that she had stopped here first, giving her no place to just leave her coat.

    Something wasn’t adding up, but I didn’t know the woman before me well enough to ask. At one time, I would have, but not today. Not now.

    Okay, hold up. Don’t move. I held my finger up, the universal signal to wait, and dashed into the back, where I kept the lost and found box. I pulled out a coat that looked like it might fit Halle, one that had been there so long I was sure no one would come back to look for it, and two mismatched gloves. I snagged a knitted beanie on the way back and held all the clothes out to her.

    Her eyebrows rose slightly as she looked at the pile of clothing, then me.

    They’re from the lost and found.

    There was no answer, but the dark eyebrows rose higher.

    No one’s coming back for them—they’ve all been there forever. Take it, all right? I shoved the pile into Halle’s arms before she could say no, giving her no choice but to accept them.

    But she didn’t push them back at me. Instead, she slid her arms into the coat, stuffing the gloves into the pocket for later. The beanie, though, she stared at with a frown, holding it between her fingers like it was going to come to life and bite her.

    That’s mine. I chuckled, intuiting the thoughts behind her expression. The only lice you’ll find in there are mine.

    Ewww. My quip earned me a nose wrinkled in disgust and a laugh, but she pulled it over her head. Aren’t you going to be cold?

    I waved away her concern. You know me—I have a beanie problem. I’m not even going to notice it’s gone.

    Halle laughed again, quietly this time, her eyes sparkling with humor. Still haven’t gone to Beanies Anonymous?

    Not yet. I scratched at the side of my head, where my hair was cut close to my scalp.

    Then silence fell between us again, and I wasn’t sure what to say to fill it. I’d never had a problem finding words with Halle. Then again, that had been a long time ago.

    But then Halle took a deep breath as though steeling herself for something, her fingers locking together until the skin was white. My heart rate spiked before she even said a word.

    So look. I’m actually here because I left my husband and need a job. You wouldn’t happen to have something open for me, would you? I know I don’t have experience—

    You can start Tuesday. We’re closed on Monday, or you could start tomorrow. The words came fast, without me even having to think about it, one running into the next, so quickly that Halle’s eyes rounded before her shoulders fell with relief.

    Thanks, Nash. I appreciate it. You have no idea how much you’re helping me out. I owe you big.

    I shook my head, waving my hand to add to the negation of her comment. No way. You don’t owe me anything. I’ll help in whatever way I can—you know that.

    Halle’s smile was hesitant but warm, relief still echoing in her expression. Maybe, possibly, a glimmer in her eyes before she swallowed and took a deep breath. Thanks, Nash.

    Another moment’s hesitation, and I pulled her in for a hug. She went stiff, and I nearly let go before she relaxed and wrapped her arms around me. Then her hold tightened, her fingers digging through the fabric of my shirt, like she was holding on for dear life.

    We stood like that for a long time, in the dim quiet of the bar, until Halle finally pulled back. But not out of my arms—instead, she stared up into my face, our eyes locked, so close I could feel her breath on my skin. An odd shift met the feeling of her in my arms after so long, warm and real in my arms.

    Thanks, Nash. I mean it.

    I didn’t pull her back into me, though I wanted to. Any time, Halle. That hasn’t changed. Never will.

    But Halle had changed, and I wondered what had changed her.

    If it had anything to do with the fresh scrapes on her knees and the fact that she had shown up suddenly with nothing but her clothes and purse, not even a coat, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer. There was a good chance it would break my heart.

    Chapter 2

    Halle

    I FOUND THE KEY IN the planter box, just like Marie had said. If it weren’t for my mom’s friend, I would be sleeping, well, I wasn’t even sure where tonight. When I’d called my mom in a panic, when the fog had cleared from my brain enough to realize what I was doing and that I had no plan beyond run, she had called Maggie from somewhere in warmer climes for the winter. About half an hour later, I got a call saying I could stay in the apartment above her garage.

    It had come with a warning—no one had used the apartment since her son had moved out five years before. And as I unlocked the door and turned on the lights, I could see why the caution.

    The furnishings were old, a cobbled-together mix of pieces that had seen—much—better days, all covered with a layer of dust. The apartment smelled like no one had even opened the door or window in half a decade.

    Shutting and locking the door behind me after struggling with the old casement, I got a window open. A frigid gust of air burst in, making me shiver, but the room immediately smelled better. Across the square of yard, I could see the main house, lit up though it was close to midnight—rental guests. I wasn’t sure whether having people so close made me feel better or worse. At least there was someone there, but they were complete strangers to me. Had Marie told

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