My life was perfect except for the occasional goat emergency. Then a charming French goalie with dimples turned my life upside down. Rude.Enter Clément Rivière—the devastatingly charming French goalie who shows up shirtless to help with barn work, whispers sweet French nothings to our goat, and looks at me like I’m the only woman in the world. But I’m not the only one falling for his act—half the town’s women are already under his spell, and I refuse to be just another conquest.
Marcy Fontaine sees right through my act and makes me want things I never knew were missing. But she’s been burned by a hockey player before, and I’m running out of time to prove I’m different. There’s a ticking time bomb inside me, and my career is on the line.
If I can’t stay, we’ll both have to decide if love is worth the risk—or if some dreams are too good to be true.
***
Goalie and the Girl Next Door is a grumpy-sunshine, wounded hero, fish-out-of-water hockey romcom in the Love in Maple Falls series. Add some goat whispering, sunrise kisses, and a guaranteed happily ever after sweeter than maple cupcakes and you have this sweet romance with all the heart and no spice.
Welcome back to Maple Falls—the small town where hockey players fall in love! This is a multi-author series of seven full-length books that could be read as standalones, but we think you’ll enjoy them best in order.
I’m about to lay into my workplace nemesis who has insulted my attention to detail when a voice fills the meeting room. The voice is loud, joyful, and deeply French.
“Bonjour, bureaucratic friends!”
Phillip nearly jumps out of his loafers and my hand jerks reflexively, and the documents I’m holding scatter like leaves in a windstorm.
A tall man with sun-kissed skin, messy curls, and a hockey duffel slung over one shoulder strides in. He’s grinning like the world’s been personally generous to him this morning, and I’m too stunned to do anything but stare.
“I’m looking for Mayor Thompkins,” he says. “It’s about a building permit.”
He moves smooth, confident, annoyingly magnetic. His jeans cling in a way that is definitely not accidental, and the forest green Henley shirt he’s wearing looks like it was made for slow, appreciative glances. Not that I’m giving him one.
There’s an ease to him, that particular breed of European polish that turns heads even when it shouldn’t.
My better judgment crosses its arms, but my pulse, traitorous thing, doesn’t listen.
When I get over my momentary freeze-up, I drop to my knees, scrambling to recover the paperwork. The Frenchman crouches to help me, entirely unbothered.
“Wow,” he says, flashing a smile as he picks up a page. “Do all town meetings start with this much paper throwing? Because I’m in.”
I don’t know who this guy thinks he is, but he’s holding the town’s most sensitive finances in one very large, very tanned hand.
I snatch the paper from him and say the first thing that comes to mind.
“You’re not supposed to be here.”
He winks, and I’d like to smack that smug grin right off his perfectly chiseled face. “I get that a lot.”
Elsie Woods is an author of giggly romantic comedy with a big dose of furry friends. While born in Canada, she abandoned cold winters for southern France with her golden retriever and unicycling French hubby. When not writing, she can be found sipping tiny coffees by the Mediterranean, hiking with her hubby and dog, or munching on the most delicious cheese in the world.
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This story sounds really fun. Thanks.
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