Maybe This Time by Kasie West


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Maybe This Time

Maybe This Time by Kasie West
English | 2019 | Young Adult, Romance | ePUB | 12.1 Mb

Maybe This Time : One year. Nine events. Nine chances to . . . fall in love?

Weddings. Funerals. Barbecues. New Year’s Eve parties. Name the occasion, and Sophie Evans will be there. Well, she has to be there. Sophie works for the local florist, so she can be found at every big event in her small hometown, arranging bouquets and managing family dramas.

Enter Andrew Hart. The son of the fancy new chef in town, Andrew is suddenly required to attend all the same events as Sophie. Entitled, arrogant, preppy Andrew. Sophie just wants to get her job done and finish up her sketches so she can apply to design school. But every time she turns around, there is Andrew, getting in her way and making her life more complicated. Until one day she wonders if maybe complicated isn’t so bad after all . . .

Told over the course of one year and following Sophie from event to event, this delightful novel from master of romantic comedy Kasie West shows how love can blossom in unexpected places

“Yeah, yeah.” She pushed my hands away. “I’m sure my dad would love you messing with his uniforms.” Her dad was a caterer, the only one in this small town. Micah pointed at her tight black curls, which I could tell at one point had been gathered on top of her head but now spilled every which way. “Speaking of uniforms, my hair tie broke.”

“It looks cute. Leave it.”

“Because hair in food is so appetizing.”

“I’m sure you have another hair tie in your just-in-case.” That’s what I liked to call Micah’s plastic case of sectioned squares that she kept in the trunk of her car. Her just-in-case mainly covered hair, makeup, and clothing emergencies, because the bin wasn’t big enough to include things like road flares or neck braces.

“You mock me, but that case has saved your butt on multiple occasions,” she said.

“So true.” I followed her to her car, where she removed the case from her trunk. “I wonder what the makers of your squares actually intended them for,” I mused. “Tools, maybe? Nuts and bolts?”

“This, Sophie. This.” She smiled, then pulled out a hair tie. “Do you need anything?”

I surveyed the selection—earrings, nail polish, Q-tips, Band-Aids, lip gloss—all in their own little spaces. It was the perfect representation of how Micah liked to live her life, everything in its proper place. “I’m good.” I nodded back toward the van. “I’m supposed to be getting gift bags.”

“Is that why you were sketching?”

“I was not sketching!” I cleared my throat. “I was looking at something I’d sketched earlier.”

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