Hidden Hearts Holding

By Robin Reid

It all started with a crash—literally. Emily was running late, clutching her books like a lifeline, when she crashed headfirst into the most magnetic stranger she'd ever seen. Ethan—charming, stormy-eyed, and effortlessly confident—sweeps in with a smile that makes her forget all about her disheveled hair and disastrous morning. Their chemistry is instant, undeniable, and... complicated. Because as much as Emily wants to let herself fall, Ethan isn't exactly an open book. There are secrets lurking behind that charming smile—secrets that tug him away when she needs him most. And just when she thinks she's starting to figure him out, he disappears again. But every time he reappears, it's with a tenderness that pulls her right back in. So, what's a girl to do? Walk away from the most thrilling connection she's ever felt? Or risk it all on a man who keeps running from his own past? In Hidden Hearts Holding, Emily faces a choice: trust the irresistible pull toward Ethan, or protect herself from the heartbreak she senses could be just around the corner. Because sometimes the greatest love stories are the hardest to hold onto—and the ones worth fighting for.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Robin Reid
• Release date: Sep 14, 2024
• ISBN: 9798227970572

Book preview

Chapter 1:

I tried to regain my composure, but the intensity of his gaze made it nearly impossible. My heart raced, a persistent drumbeat that seemed to echo louder with every passing second. I could see him clearly now, the way his features softened with genuine concern, the small smile playing at the corners of his lips as he returned my gaze. It was disarming, like being caught in a moment you didn’t expect but couldn’t seem to escape from.

I didn’t see you there, I finally managed to say, my voice coming out softer than I intended. I busied myself with picking up the remaining books, hoping the action would distract me from the overwhelming sensation of his presence. Each book felt heavier than the last, as though they were imbued with the weight of the encounter itself.

He laughed lightly, a sound that felt oddly intimate in the midst of the bustling street. It’s all my fault, he said, his tone light but with an undertone of sincerity. I should have been more careful.

There was something remarkably reassuring in his manner, a stark contrast to the frazzled state I found myself in. As he handed me the last book, our fingers brushed briefly. It was a fleeting touch, but it sent a jolt of electricity through me that made me flinch involuntarily. I quickly withdrew, my cheeks burning even hotter now.

Thank you, I said, my voice barely above a whisper. I felt the need to say more, to explain my disheveled state or apologize for my clumsiness, but I was at a loss for words. Instead, I just stood there, clutching the books tightly to my chest, trying to steady the storm of emotions swirling inside me.

He seemed to notice my discomfort, and his smile grew warmer. Are you sure you’re alright? You look a bit shaken.

I nodded quickly, though I wasn’t sure how convincing I was. I’m fine. Just... running late. I cast a glance at my watch, which only served to amplify my stress. Really late, actually.

His eyes softened with understanding, and he took a step closer, as if to offer his presence as a comfort. Let me at least walk you to wherever you’re going. It’s the least I can do after almost causing you to drop all these books.

I hesitated, torn between the need to get to work and the unexpected pull I felt toward him. There was something about his offer, so sincere and unassuming, that made it hard to refuse. You don’t have to, I started, but the words felt inadequate. There was a part of me that wanted to accept, to see where this strange connection might lead.

But before I could voice any further objections, he took a step back, seemingly reading my hesitation. I insist. It’s just a walk. Consider it my way of making amends.

There was something about his insistence that was both reassuring and intriguing. I nodded, my resistance melting away in the face of his earnestness. Alright, if you’re sure.

As we began to walk together, I stole glances at him, trying to piece together who he was. The way he moved was casual, yet there was a grace to it that suggested he was accustomed to navigating both people and spaces with ease. We talked idly about the weather and the traffic, mundane topics that felt strangely intimate in the context of our brief encounter.

He introduced himself as Sam. I guess I should have led with that, he said with a self-deprecating chuckle. I’m Sam, by the way.

Emily, I replied, feeling the weight of my name as I said it. It felt like a small, fragile thing in the midst of this new and unexpected connection.

So, Emily, he said, his tone almost playful. What’s the rush? Is it some kind of book emergency?

I laughed, the sound coming more easily than I expected. Something like that. I work at a local bookstore. We’re having a big sale today, and I really can’t afford to be late.

He nodded, his expression thoughtful. A bookstore, huh? That’s fitting. You seem like someone who’d belong among books.

I felt a blush creeping up my neck at his words. Well, I like to think so. Books are... familiar. They’re like old friends.

His eyes sparkled with interest. Sounds like a wonderful place to be. I’d love to hear more about it sometime.

As we approached the bookstore, the reality of our parting loomed closer. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment at the thought of ending this brief but unexpectedly meaningful interaction. When we reached the entrance, Sam turned to face me, his expression serious yet warm.

Emily, he said softly, his voice carrying a note of reluctance, it was really nice meeting you. I hope your day goes well.

Thank you, Sam, I said, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and regret. It was nice meeting you too.

And as he walked away, his figure slowly receding into the distance, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this collision—this seemingly inconsequential moment—had altered the course of my day, and perhaps something even deeper.

Let me at least walk you to wherever you’re going. It’s the least I can do after causing such a mess, he said, his voice holding a note of genuine concern that felt oddly comforting. I hesitated for a moment, my mind grappling with the sudden shift from chaos to this surprising calm.

I glanced at the books I was clutching and then back at him. The thought of continuing my frantic dash alone felt more daunting than accepting his offer. There was something in the way he looked at me, something that made the ordinary act of walking seem like a small adventure.

Alright, I said finally, giving in with a sigh. That would be nice.

We began walking side by side, the world around us seeming to recede into a dull hum. His presence was oddly soothing, a stark contrast to the storm of thoughts and feelings inside me. I stole glances at him as we walked, trying to piece together the enigmatic aura he exuded. He seemed completely at ease, his dark hair tousled in a way that made him look effortlessly handsome, while his stormy gray eyes held a kind of depth that made me feel like I was staring into a sea of hidden stories.

So, what’s the rush? he asked, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between us. His tone was light, as if he were genuinely interested in my answer rather than merely making small talk.

I work at the bookstore down the street, I replied, my voice a little more steady now. I’m afraid I’m going to get there late and my boss will be less than thrilled.

He chuckled softly, a sound that resonated with a warmth that seemed to envelop us both. I’m sure they’ll understand. It’s not every day you get a surprise like this.

I couldn’t help but smile at his comment. Well, let’s hope so. I think I’d rather not have my boss’s wrath hanging over me today.

We continued walking, the conversation flowing with a natural ease that surprised me. He told me a little about himself—his name was Jack, and he was new to town. His voice had a soothing cadence, and I found myself lost in the rhythm of his speech. There was an honesty in the way he spoke, a straightforwardness that made me feel like I could trust him, even though we had just met.

As we neared the bookstore, I felt a pang of reluctance. The brief walk had felt like a haven from the hectic pace of my day, and I wasn’t quite ready to return to reality. Jack seemed to sense my hesitation, and his gaze turned thoughtful.

Would you like to grab a coffee sometime? he asked, the question coming out so casually that it took me by surprise. I mean, if you’re not too busy or anything.

I blinked, trying to process the unexpected invitation. It was a simple offer, but it carried a weight that made my heart skip a beat. I—well, I’d like that, I said, my voice tinged with both eagerness and nervousness.

His smile widened, and for a moment, I felt like I was seeing a different side of him—one that was open and genuinely pleased. Great. I’ll give you my number, and we can figure out a time that works.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, handing it to me with a casual grace. I took it, my fingers brushing against his once more. The touch was brief but lingering, leaving a faint, tingling sensation in its wake.

As I glanced down at the card, I saw his name, Jack Thompson, along with a phone number. I tucked it into my bag, feeling a flutter of anticipation at the prospect of seeing him again.

Well, this is me, I said, as we arrived at the bookstore. I looked up at him, the reality of parting ways settling in. Thank you for walking me here. And for, you know, everything.

Jack nodded, his expression a blend of satisfaction and something else—something almost wistful. It was my pleasure. I’ll be looking forward to that coffee.

With one last smile, he turned and walked away, leaving me standing there, a curious mix of excitement and uncertainty swirling within me. As I entered the bookstore and the door chimed softly behind me, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this encounter was the beginning of something unexpected. And though the day had started with a stumble, it seemed to have found its own unexpected rhythm—one that might just lead to a new chapter in my life.

Chapter 2:

I placed the steaming cup of coffee in front of him, my fingers brushing lightly against his as I did so. The contact was brief, but it was enough to send a shiver down my spine. His eyes followed my every movement, the intensity of his gaze making it nearly impossible for me to focus on anything else.

Thank you, he said, his voice carrying a warmth that seemed to linger long after he’d spoken. I forced a smile, trying to ignore the way my cheeks felt flushed under his scrutiny. You’re welcome, I replied, though my voice came out more breathless than I intended.

As I turned to head back to the counter, I could feel his eyes on me, a steady presence that seemed to follow my every step. I did my best to maintain my composure, but the sensation of being observed with such intensity was unnerving. I busied myself with small tasks, wiping down the counter, refilling the sugar jars, all the while acutely aware of the fact that he was still watching me from his corner table.

I tried to focus on the steady rhythm of the café—coffee brewing, conversations murmuring, the occasional clink of dishes—but it was no use. My thoughts kept drifting back to him, to the way he’d looked at me when our eyes first met, and to the almost magnetic pull I felt toward him. There was something inexplicably compelling about Nathan Cole, something that made my heart race and my palms sweat.

When my shift finally came to an end, I felt a mixture of relief and trepidation. I cleaned up the last table and prepared to leave, trying not to think about the fact that Nathan was still there, still in the café, still watching me. As I walked towards the door, I caught sight of him standing up, his movements deliberate and measured.

He approached me with a casual confidence, and I felt a knot of anticipation form in my stomach. Hey, he said, his voice gentle but firm. I was hoping to catch you before you left.

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice steady. Yes?

I know this might seem forward, but I’d really like to get to know you better. How about dinner sometime this week?

His offer hung in the air between us, and I could feel the weight of it settling over me. I wanted to say no, to retreat into the safety of my routine and my predictable life. But there was something in his eyes, something that made me want to take a chance, to step outside of my comfort zone.

I hesitated, searching for the right words, but before I could articulate my thoughts, I found myself nodding. Okay, I said, the word escaping my lips almost before I could think it through. Dinner sounds nice.

Nathan’s smile widened, and he looked genuinely pleased. Great, he said, his voice infused with a note of triumph. How about Friday evening? I’ll pick you up.

I agreed to the time, and he handed me a small slip of paper with his number written on it. Text me your address, he said, his eyes holding mine with a steady intensity. I’ll make sure to be there on time.

I took the paper, my fingers brushing against his once more. I will, I promised, though my mind was already racing with a whirlwind of emotions.

As Nathan walked away, I felt a strange sense of both exhilaration and apprehension. The café was quiet now, the hum of activity replaced by the soft sounds of closing time. I stood there for a moment, staring at the slip of paper in my hand, trying to process what had just happened.

When I finally made my way out, the cool evening air greeted me, a welcome contrast to the warmth of the café. I walked home with Nathan’s number clutched tightly in my hand, my mind a tangled mess of thoughts and feelings. Despite my better judgment, there was a part of me that couldn’t shake the feeling that this was the beginning of something significant, something that would challenge the boundaries of my carefully constructed world.

His offer hung in the air between us, the café’s ambient noise fading into the background as I processed his words. I felt an unexpected flutter of excitement mixed with a deep, gnawing anxiety. Dinner? I repeated, trying to buy myself a moment to collect my thoughts.

Nathan’s eyes softened, his gaze steady and reassuring. Yeah, dinner. I’d really like to get to know you better. There was a sincerity in his voice that made it difficult to dismiss. He wasn’t just being charming for the sake of it; he seemed genuinely interested.

I stared at him, my mind racing through a flurry of thoughts. The rational part of me was screaming about how this was all too sudden, too strange. I barely knew him, and yet, there was something in his demeanor that made me want to throw caution to the wind. His presence was like a magnet, pulling me in despite every internal warning.

Alright, I heard myself say before I could stop the words from tumbling out. I’d like that.

A smile broke across his face, bright and genuine, and I couldn’t help but return it. It was as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, replaced by a flutter of anticipation. Great, he said, clearly pleased. How about Friday evening? We can meet at that new Italian place downtown. It’s supposed to be really good.

Friday sounds good, I agreed, my voice more confident now. I’ll see you there.

As Nathan turned to leave, I watched him walk away, the image of his retreating figure etched into my mind. There was something undeniably magnetic about him, a pull that I couldn’t quite understand but was unable to resist. I found myself smiling as I tidied up the café, the promise of our dinner hanging in the air like a sweet, tantalizing secret.

Later that night, as I lay in bed, I replayed the entire encounter over and over in my mind. Nathan Cole’s dark hair, his stormy eyes, the way he looked at me with such intensity—it was all overwhelming and yet, thrilling. I’d been on autopilot for so long, just going through the motions of my daily routine, and now, this unexpected twist had thrown everything into a new, vibrant light.

The next few days were a blur of anticipation and nervous energy. Every time I thought about Friday, my heart would skip a beat. I tried to focus on my work, on the small tasks that filled my days, but my mind kept drifting back to Nathan. I wondered what he was like beyond the brief moments we’d shared, what kind of person he was, what he wanted from me.

By the time Friday rolled around, I was a bundle of nerves. I stood in front of my mirror, adjusting my outfit for what felt like the hundredth time. I chose something simple but nice—a navy blue dress that seemed to complement my nervous excitement. I’d never been one to put much effort into my appearance, but tonight felt different. I wanted to look my best, to make a good impression, even though part of me was still grappling with the rapid turn my life had taken.

As I walked to the restaurant, the crisp evening air did little to calm my nerves. The city was alive with its usual buzz, but it all seemed to fade into a distant hum as I approached the restaurant. I’d never been to this place before, but from the outside, it looked charming, with its warm, inviting lights spilling out onto the sidewalk.

I stepped inside and was immediately greeted by the soft, romantic ambiance of the restaurant. Candlelight flickered on each table, and the aroma of freshly baked bread and rich Italian sauces filled the air. I scanned the room, looking for Nathan. It didn’t take long to spot him—he was sitting at a table in a quiet corner, his posture relaxed as he glanced around, clearly searching for me.

When our eyes met, a smile spread across his face, and he stood up to greet me. The warmth in his smile was infectious, and I felt a wave of relief mixed with excitement. You look stunning, he said as he pulled out a chair for me.

Thank you, I said, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks. I sat down, and as he took his place opposite me, the initial nervousness began to ebb away, replaced by a sense of calm.

Nathan seemed to have a way of making everything feel effortless. The conversation flowed easily, as if we had known each other for much longer than just a few days. We talked about everything and nothing—our favorite books, the quirks of the city, our dreams and aspirations. Each word exchanged seemed to build a bridge between us, making the evening feel like the beginning of something new and unexpected.

As the night wore on, I found myself increasingly drawn to him. Nathan’s presence was like a balm to my restless soul, and the connection we were forming felt both thrilling and comforting. I didn’t know where this was going, but for the first time in a long while, I felt like I was exactly where I was meant to be.

Chapter 3:

Despite the charming veneer Nathan presented, there was an undeniable tension beneath the surface. As the evening wore on and our conversation grew more intimate, I found myself caught between two conflicting emotions. On one hand, he was magnetic, his presence filling the room with an electric energy that was impossible to ignore. On the other hand, there was an elusive quality about him, a layer of mystery that seemed to shield him from truly opening up.

As we finished our main course and the waiter cleared our plates, Nathan leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. You know, he said, his voice taking on a reflective tone, sometimes I think people are like books. We all have our chapters, but we only show the parts we want others to see.

I tilted my head, intrigued by his analogy. And what chapters do you choose to show?

He smiled, but there was a fleeting sadness in his eyes.