This is the kind of book that leaves you feeling giddy and warm at the end. The kind that makes you sigh with contentment, wishing to find a love like it.
Before reading this, I reread one of my favorite books by the same author, The Fine Art of Pretending, so I couldn’t help comparing the two. I guess every Rachel Harris book I read will always have high expectations to live up to. But although The Fine Art of Pretending remains my favorite, this one was great too.