In THE RIGHT GUY by Mel Walker, Hunter Farro is looking for a fresh start on his own, but after a kiss with a stranger, his plans derail when he finds himself in a fake relationship. Hunter's secret relationship with Catherine March isn’t the only thing he is hiding behind, and when the truth comes out, he will risk everything important to him, including Catherine. Fans of Sealed by Laura Pavlov will delight in this sweet must-read fake relationship, small-town romance from the Meet Cute Book Club Series.
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My Thoughts:
The Right Guy is part of the "Meet Cute Book Club" series. Its a fake dating romance and I really enjoyed it. I thought it was very sweet. It was a little insta-lovey, but I found I didn't mind because I enjoyed the characters so much and how they interacted. Hunter is now on my book boyfriend list. I adored his character. I also really like Catherine and her relationship with her sister. I won't spoil the plot, I'll just definitely recommend reading it.
Excerpt
Copyright 2022 @
Mel Walker
Home is where you
go to find peace, but not today. My shaking hands and the throbbing in my
chests only confirm my fears - disaster awaits.
My Uber flies down Market Street and I duck down to hide as we roll by Mr. Paul’s Ice Cream shop as if I’m expecting the ghost of boyfriend past to be sitting at our favorite booth sipping on a black and white milk shake staring out the window on alert.
I sit on my hands but still fail. I form tight fists, squeezing to the point that I feel the pain of my nails digging hard into my palm. This trip is different. He knows I’m coming home; he knows my schedule; there will be no avoiding him this time.
I don’t trust myself to even think his name, let alone speak it out loud. The fear of his name on my lips activating some horror movie spell, conjuring him in front of me, a smug smirk on his face and a condescending attitude on his shoulder.
I’m only two hours removed from the pep talk from my former college classmate and good friend, Shannon, but I don’t hesitate to dial her. Anything to pull me out of the anxiety hole I’m slipping down.
“Catherine!” she answers on the first ring, surprise in her tone, “don’t tell me you left something here at the Inn.”
I shake my head, knowing she can’t see me. “No. At least I don’t think so.” Her question merely pulls me from one rabbit hole to another. I’ve spent the last three days with Shannon and the rest of the women in our book club back in our college town of Abbot Ridge, North Carolina. Three amazing days of kinship, reconnecting and refilling my cup with positivity. Nearly all of it evaporating when I stepped on the plane and flew cross-country back to my hometown. “I’m almost to my parent’s home and I wanted to hear you tell me once again that everything will work out?”
“Ok,” she whispers, and I imagine Shannon pulling on the sleeves of her bohemian top with more colors than Joseph’s Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. It’s early afternoon and all of her bed-and-breakfast patrons should have either checked out or have left to enjoy the charm that is Abbot Ridge. I picture her sitting in her favorite rocking chair with a cup of herbal tea nearby. “It’s been too long since you’ve gone back home. You miss your family. You love your family and they love you. That’s all that matters. Palmer Easton is ancient history.”
I squeeze my eyes tight with the mention of my ex. The man whose heart I broke and who now seems to be on a mission to make my life a living hell.
“You are the kick ass hero in this story.” Shannon pulls me back to the present, her voice filled with love and admiration, the two things my heart needs the most right now. “You only have to see him once for a few hours with lots of other people around to act as a buffer. You’re going to be just fine. And when you leave town again, he’ll be the one wishing he had made different life choices.”
I know she’s right, but it’s nice to hear it out loud. Logic and fear aren’t exactly great bedfellows. “Thank you. In every other area of my life, I have no doubts, but anytime I come home to Mesa my nerves are on edge, fearing I’m going to run into Palmer.” My tongue clicks against my teeth, “only this time it's one hundred percent guaranteed that we’ll cross paths.”
I think back six months to the arrival of the wedding invitation from my childhood friend, Ava. The hand written note slipped into the invite. Don’t you dare say no. She knows my history with Palmer, everyone does. Mesa, Arizona, may be home to nearly half a million people these days, but in many ways it's still a small town.
“And I’m one hundred percent sure you’re gonna shine. Do I need to fly out there?” Shannon asks and for a second, I consider it. I RSVP’d with a plus one six months ago, figuring I had all the time in the world to find a date. The last thing I wanted to do was show up to the wedding and sit at the singles table subjecting myself to even more barbs and slings from Palmer. His parting words to me after I left him were that I would never find happiness or another man. I found out too late that Palmer and the high road never intercepted.
About Mel Walker
My Uber flies down Market Street and I duck down to hide as we roll by Mr. Paul’s Ice Cream shop as if I’m expecting the ghost of boyfriend past to be sitting at our favorite booth sipping on a black and white milk shake staring out the window on alert.
I sit on my hands but still fail. I form tight fists, squeezing to the point that I feel the pain of my nails digging hard into my palm. This trip is different. He knows I’m coming home; he knows my schedule; there will be no avoiding him this time.
I don’t trust myself to even think his name, let alone speak it out loud. The fear of his name on my lips activating some horror movie spell, conjuring him in front of me, a smug smirk on his face and a condescending attitude on his shoulder.
I’m only two hours removed from the pep talk from my former college classmate and good friend, Shannon, but I don’t hesitate to dial her. Anything to pull me out of the anxiety hole I’m slipping down.
“Catherine!” she answers on the first ring, surprise in her tone, “don’t tell me you left something here at the Inn.”
I shake my head, knowing she can’t see me. “No. At least I don’t think so.” Her question merely pulls me from one rabbit hole to another. I’ve spent the last three days with Shannon and the rest of the women in our book club back in our college town of Abbot Ridge, North Carolina. Three amazing days of kinship, reconnecting and refilling my cup with positivity. Nearly all of it evaporating when I stepped on the plane and flew cross-country back to my hometown. “I’m almost to my parent’s home and I wanted to hear you tell me once again that everything will work out?”
“Ok,” she whispers, and I imagine Shannon pulling on the sleeves of her bohemian top with more colors than Joseph’s Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. It’s early afternoon and all of her bed-and-breakfast patrons should have either checked out or have left to enjoy the charm that is Abbot Ridge. I picture her sitting in her favorite rocking chair with a cup of herbal tea nearby. “It’s been too long since you’ve gone back home. You miss your family. You love your family and they love you. That’s all that matters. Palmer Easton is ancient history.”
I squeeze my eyes tight with the mention of my ex. The man whose heart I broke and who now seems to be on a mission to make my life a living hell.
“You are the kick ass hero in this story.” Shannon pulls me back to the present, her voice filled with love and admiration, the two things my heart needs the most right now. “You only have to see him once for a few hours with lots of other people around to act as a buffer. You’re going to be just fine. And when you leave town again, he’ll be the one wishing he had made different life choices.”
I know she’s right, but it’s nice to hear it out loud. Logic and fear aren’t exactly great bedfellows. “Thank you. In every other area of my life, I have no doubts, but anytime I come home to Mesa my nerves are on edge, fearing I’m going to run into Palmer.” My tongue clicks against my teeth, “only this time it's one hundred percent guaranteed that we’ll cross paths.”
I think back six months to the arrival of the wedding invitation from my childhood friend, Ava. The hand written note slipped into the invite. Don’t you dare say no. She knows my history with Palmer, everyone does. Mesa, Arizona, may be home to nearly half a million people these days, but in many ways it's still a small town.
“And I’m one hundred percent sure you’re gonna shine. Do I need to fly out there?” Shannon asks and for a second, I consider it. I RSVP’d with a plus one six months ago, figuring I had all the time in the world to find a date. The last thing I wanted to do was show up to the wedding and sit at the singles table subjecting myself to even more barbs and slings from Palmer. His parting words to me after I left him were that I would never find happiness or another man. I found out too late that Palmer and the high road never intercepted.
Mel Walker is a rare bird, the male romance author. Specializing in heartfelt small-town romance, he enjoys telling compelling romances with all the feels. A native New Yorker and life-long frustrated NY Mets fan, he enjoys long walks, bike rides, and taking in the energy of the city.
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