The Gingerbread Bakery (Dream Harbor, #5)

by Laurie Gilmore

Unfortunately, it was very hard to feel grown up when your mother was still the one doing your laundry.

but all he really saw was Annie. Story of his life since he moved back here. Annie was all he ever saw.

He looked terrible in hats, so yes, he’d rather die than wear one in front of a cute girl.

Annie strongly believed that everyone should have a passion in life. It could be anything, bird-watching, writing fan fiction for your favorite small-town TV show—where you make every character a werewolf—photographing the squirrels that live in your backyard. Whatever gets you out of bed every day.

‘In Quebec they can drink at eighteen.’ ‘Then go to Quebec to drink.’

He’d spent so long putting off becoming a real adult that, when he first came back to town to run his dad’s pub, he felt like he was faking it.

He leaned in closer to Annie. For Logan’s sake.

What was it about making grown men cry that was so damn satisfying?

you want things to be perfect because you think being perfect shows people that you love them, and a little piece of you believes they would love you less if you weren’t.’

How was she supposed to forget about that feeling? The feeling of being abandoned by someone you considered a friend? Someone who was supposed to come back for you?

‘Love is a funny thing,’ the mayor went on. ‘It's not always big or loud or over the top. Most of the time, it’s quiet and unassuming. It’s a shared cup of coffee on a rainy day or reading side by side together every night. It’s finding the person who gets you. The person who will have your back through it all.