Love Me Like You Do by Aimee Brown was published by Aria Fiction on 17 September 2020.
Today I have an extract from the book.
‘She’s not dead,’ he says, gently touching my now-tingling hand, softly resting it on my chest. I pull it away suddenly with a gasp as the pain shoots from my wrist to my shoulder like a lightning strike. ‘But she is hurt.’
Wait a second.
Did he just say I’m not dead? My eyes snap open, immediately meeting the dark eyes of the stranger straddling me.
‘Who… who are you?’ I ask as he pats me down starting at my head.
‘Anything else hurt?’ he asks, his hands now at my waist as if we’re in a dark closet with the clock ticking down to our seven minutes being up and we still haven’t kissed.
I try to scoot away from him but the pain in my arm is preventing me from moving much. Well, that and the giant princess gown of a wedding dress that I couldn’t wait to get on today.
‘Can you please not?’ I half yell when his hands reach my outer thighs.
He nods, his cheeks flushing as he gets to his feet.
I sigh deeply glancing around at the faces watching the commotion. I’m not dead and now that I’ve finally opened my eyes to face the situation I’m realizing that the white light I was seeing was just the tulle from my skirt still partially around my neck. I blow it away, pushing it away from my face as I prop myself up with the hand that isn’t in excruciating pain.
Sweet Lord almighty, I’ve been lying here trying to figure out why God has a southern accent while my entire skirt has been pretty much over my head the whole time I faced death eye to eye.
I guess that ridiculous line my mom was always giving me about always wearing clean underwear in case you’re in an accident has some truth to it. If only the underwear I’d chosen for my wedding day weren’t the skimpiest, laciest, see-through underwear I could find. I mean I wasn’t exactly planning for anyone besides Becker to see it.
The tall stranger kneels beside me, handing me the shoe he’s just retrieved from the crosswalk near a stopped car.
‘You lost this,’ the southern voice says.
‘Park, are you OK?’ Becker starts across the road, his hand in the air towards the still-stopped cars as if his job is to direct traffic and not announce what’s happening to a courtyard full of everyone we’ve ever known.
Five minutes ago, he was explaining how he’d only just realized that we didn’t want the same things out of life and that he felt too bad to ever bring it up until this morning. He’s concerned we’ve grown apart and marriage would only make that worse. Ugh. Please. Now he suddenly wants me to be OK after breaking my heart? I don’t think so.
‘NO!’ I yell his way, holding up my good hand for him to stop right where he is. ‘Don’t you have something to be doing?’ I snap. I try to get to my feet, but one-handed in a giant ball gown of a wedding dress makes it about as easy as if I was in a big costume you see at Disneyland.
The southern stranger notices my struggle and reaches down, taking my good hand in his and pulling me to my feet. I hold my throbbing arm to my chest, kicking off the one shoe I’m still wearing so I’m not completely lopsided as I attempt to make another run for it.
About the Book
A runaway bride. A handsome stranger. Two pasts to put behind them.
Parker is ready to marry the man of her dreams. But he isn’t ready to marry her. It would be helpful if he didn’t choose their wedding day to tell her this. But as she flees from the travesty behind her, she literally runs into the arms of a handsome stranger. The southern drawl, the dreamy eyes, she can’t fall for another man after being left at the altar – can she?
When Liam agreed to go on a date he didn’t expect to leave with the bride. Nor did he expect to take her the emergency room. Immediately he’s drawn to her fiery spirit, her kind heart and beautiful smile. Liam’s got a whole host of problems and a past that keeps coming back, now can’t be the time to fall in love, but Parker might just be the one to break down his barriers and let him live a little – if she’ll let him in.
Will these two strangers allow serendipity to put them together, or will their fears keep them apart?
About the Author
Aimee Brown is a writer of romantic comedies set in Portland, Oregon, and an avid reader. She spends much of her time writing, raising three teenagers, binge-watching shows on Netflix and obsessively cleaning and redecorating her house. She’s fluent in sarcasm and has been known to utter profanities like she’s competing for a medal. Aimee grew up in Oregon, but is now a transplant living in cold Montana with her husband of twenty years, three teenage children, and far too many pets. She is a lot older than she looks and yes, that is a tattoo across her chest. (In the Portlandia spirit, yes, I lived many years in PDX and I do indeed have a bird tattooed on me (2!)) Aimee is very active on social media. You can find her at any of the networks below. Stop by and say hello!