Practice Makes Perfect (When in Rome, #2)

by Sarah Adams

To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow. —Audrey Hepburn

I am convinced dating was created by an evil villain to torture humanity.

For introverts like me with social anxiety, the process of dating is equivalent to waxing your bikini line. Menstrual cramps on day two of your cycle. An emergency dental procedure you weren’t expecting—and guess what: they’re fresh out of novocaine.

The job in question has very strict criteria based on the bursting-with-love marriage my parents had. One, he must live in town and have roots here in Rome, Kentucky; two, he must have a stable job; three, he must be kind and also be supportive of my career; and four, he must want a family.

I am the quiet one in my family. The one with her nose always in a book because she prefers worlds where she doesn’t have to interact with other humans. It’s so much easier to read about relationships than to foster them.

“Will you excuse me, John? I need to use the bathroom.” And regroup. And possibly climb out the window and run away.

Did I mention my hobby is reading historical romances?

Holy Guacamole, those forearms are glorious.

I’ll have a spectacular night. There’s a book I’ve really been wanting to finish.”

The sweet one, everyone says. The quiet one. The cute one. I’ve heard folks in that town refer to Annie as every possible synonym of those words—but never once did they give her the adjective that always sprung into my head when I saw her: gorgeous.

Will Griffin is absolutely not the kind of man I need. Too bad he’s very quickly becoming the man I want.

ANNIE: You’d do that for me? WILL: I’m quickly learning I’d do anything for you.

But the thing about quiet people is, we’re only quiet because our brains are so busy overthinking everything.

I tried but my feet keep bringing me back here to your door.”