The Choices I’ve Made by J.L. Berg is available NOW!
Death is easy.
Surviving it? That’s the hard part.
Dr. Jake Jameson knows this all too well. Losing his mother at the age of eighteen, he walks away from his small hometown and the painful memories it holds, vowing to never return again.
Twelve years later, he finds himself driving back down the coast of North Carolina. When his father leaves him a small medical practice, he has no choice but to heed the call until he can find someone else to take it off his hands.
But coming back home means facing everything he left behind, including the one woman who might make it impossible to leave again.
Molly McIntyre has spent her entire life in one town. Taking over her parents’ small inn, she’s settled into a quiet, happy life. But all of that comes to an abrupt halt when Jake shows up at her door in need of a place to stay.
Molly loathes everything about this man, but she can’t find it in her heart to refuse his request.
After over a decade, these former lovers quickly discover what once burned brightly between them has only grown in their time apart. Soon they must decide if the choices they’ve made have led them back to each other for a second chance or one final goodbye.
My review: 4.5 stars!
What an emotional read! I knew from the first chapter that this wasn't going to be an easy fairy tale-type story, but I also knew that I was already pulled in and ready to take the journey with Jake and Molly- they were such well-written characters. It was so worth the read- the pain and grief is so well done, although it was at times heartbreaking, it was also heartwarming and tender too. A must read.
Surviving it? That’s the hard part.
Dr. Jake Jameson knows this all too well. Losing his mother at the age of eighteen, he walks away from his small hometown and the painful memories it holds, vowing to never return again.
Twelve years later, he finds himself driving back down the coast of North Carolina. When his father leaves him a small medical practice, he has no choice but to heed the call until he can find someone else to take it off his hands.
But coming back home means facing everything he left behind, including the one woman who might make it impossible to leave again.
Molly McIntyre has spent her entire life in one town. Taking over her parents’ small inn, she’s settled into a quiet, happy life. But all of that comes to an abrupt halt when Jake shows up at her door in need of a place to stay.
Molly loathes everything about this man, but she can’t find it in her heart to refuse his request.
After over a decade, these former lovers quickly discover what once burned brightly between them has only grown in their time apart. Soon they must decide if the choices they’ve made have led them back to each other for a second chance or one final goodbye.
Excerpt:
After
two glasses of wine and an hour of feeling sorry for myself, I decided I’d had
enough self-pity for one day. Rising from my cozy chair, I took one last look
at the sparkling water as the moon rose high in the sky. How one could ever get
used to a view like that, I’d never know. I’d been raised in this house, and
still, it never ceased to take my breath away.
After
a quick stop by the kitchen sink to rinse out my glass, I headed to the large
pantry, deciding I needed a little baking therapy to pass the time. Although
the Lovells had offered to take care of their own meals since I comped the
room, I decided to treat them for their help over the last week.
As
much as I hated to admit it, I couldn’t have done it all without them.
Grabbing
flour, sugar, and a few more items, I settled on a family favorite
recipe—zucchini bread. I’d added my own little flair to it over the years, but
the basic recipe was still the same.
There
was something almost restorative about the process of mixing ingredients. With
no need for a recipe anymore, I found myself humming a song I’d heard on the
radio earlier in the day, and my mood began to lift.
That
was, until the doorbell rang.
Wiping
my hands on a dish towel, I checked my appearance in the hallway mirror,
rolling my eyes at the flour that coated my cheeks.
My
mom always said I was a messy baker. I guessed some things never changed.
Putting
on my best face possible, I prepared myself, morphing into the hostess with the
mostest. It didn’t always happen, but every now and again, I’d have unexpected
visitors. People who’d missed the last ferry and were in desperate need for a
place to stay or others who had just fallen in love and didn’t want to leave.
In
every case, I always found a place for them, sometimes even giving up my own
rooms to accommodate them. Pulling open the door, I greeted the late-night
visitor with a bright smile. But, the moment I saw his face, that familiar
rugged jaw and piercing blue eyes, my smile faded into something less than
pleasing.
“What
are you doing here, Jake?” I nearly snarled.
“Is
that any way to greet a guest?” he replied sluggishly. He was clearly drunk.
“Did
you drive here in that state?” I asked, looking over his shoulder to make sure
a car wasn’t wrapped around the neighbor’s tree.
“No,”
he answered. “Waited until I was parked outside before I popped open the
bourbon. Did you know, if you park right there”—he pointed behind him, making
his sloppy posture even worse—“you can see the backyard? You still like to sit
out on the deck, huh?”
My
cheeks heated with anger as I realized my private moment of sulking had been
witnessed by none other than hotshot Jake Jameson. I sighed, noticing the way
his eyes followed mine.
“What
do you want?” I finally asked, averting his gaze.
“I’m
a wayward tourist in need of a place to stay.”
My
arms folded across my chest as he made himself at home, breezing past me to
stumble into the sitting room. His large body seemed to melt into the couch as
I tried not to think about all the things we’d done in this room while my
parents were out of the house.
“You
have a place to stay, Jake,” I reminded him. “And, no matter how much you try
to convince yourself, you’re no tourist. Not even a fancy degree could change
that twang in your voice.”
He
laughed, a sound that made my spine tingle. “You’re right. I can’t seem to
shake it. But it does do me some favors every now and then.” He gave me a quick
grin and a wink, causing me to nearly spit fire.
The
idea of him using his stupid accent to get women into bed—it shouldn’t have
affected me so, but it did.
It
really did.
“Look,”
I said, feeling my never-ending river of patience suddenly drying up, “it’s
late, and I know you’ve had a rough day, but—”
“I
tried, Molly. God, how I tried.”
“Tried
what?” I asked, pinching the bridge of my nose.
“I
tried to forget you. But I never could. I tried to forget this place and all it
represented, but the memories never faded. You never faded.”
My
heart galloped a little faster, but luckily my anger won the race. “You’ve got
to go, Jake. You can’t stay here.”
“But
I can’t go back there, Mols. I can’t go back to that house. There are too many
ghosts. Too many memories. It hurts.”
The
way he’d said it reminded me of the scared boy I’d once held in my arms as he
wept for his mother. It tugged at the few remaining heartstrings I had for this
man, and suddenly, I found myself caving.
“Fine.”
He
instantly perked up, turning his head, as his bright blue eyes found mine
again.
“But
you will pay double, and don’t expect any special treatment.”
He
nodded as he tried to stand, swaying back and forth. I ran forward, keeping him
from crashing into my antique coffee table. The generosity I’d felt just
moments before was already starting to bite me in the ass.
“Got
it,” he said as my hands wrapped around his muscled biceps. That intense stare
of his was back as his fingers found mine. “You won’t even know I’m here,” he
whispered, the smell of bourbon on his breath.
“Highly
unlikely,” I grumbled, pulling my hand from his. The heat of it remained, like
a brand against my skin. “Now, you can take the—”
“Yellow
room,” he said, finishing my sentence.
It
had always been a favorite of his. Mine, too.
“Fine,”
I replied, trying to seem unaffected by his demand. “I assume you still
remember the way?”
He
held up his palm in front of his face. “Like the back of my hand.”
“That’s
the front, Doctor.”
He
laughed, sounding drunker than I’d ever seen him. “Right.” Taking a few steps
forward, his body brushed against mine. “I like it when you call me doctor.”
I
took a deep breath, putting some much-needed space between us.
“You
would. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have bread to bake.”
“Bread!”
he nearly shouted before chuckling under his breath. He said in a hushed tone,
“I love bread.”
“Go
to bed, Jake.”
“You
first.”
Those
two words were like a cold bucket of water. His gaze suddenly sharpened as a
tingle went down my spine. Both of us knew he wasn’t talking about sleeping,
and for a moment, I let him know it.
No
eye roll or quick-witted comeback. I just stood there, letting myself indulge
in a single moment that signified a lifetime of memories.
And
then the jerk threw up on my shoes.
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About the Author:
I’m a California native, who lives in the South – Virginia to be exact. I still prefer sushi to fried chicken, avocados to okra, and I absolutely loathe humidity. I do love watching the seasons change though. My husband and I have been here for over a decade, and I still get giddy like a school girl every time it snows. It’s magical! I’m married to my high school sweetheart, and we’ve been blessed with two beautiful daughters and two rescue pups I like to call my “coworkers”. I’m obsessed with chocolate, minions, anything Harry Potter and I love to watch re-runs of Friends and Gilmore Girls!Connect with the Author:
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