Hoping for Hawthorne

Hawthorne Bloom is living for the moment, until a beautiful stranger with intriguingly familiar eyes gives him a tongue lashing he'll never forget. When she shows up again at a family event, Hawthorne finds himself trying to dig a way out of a hole he didn't realize he was in.

When Avery Chase returns to Indiana, the last thing she expects is to run into her childhood crush, let alone to realize in the years since she left, he's turned into a complete jerk. Hoping for a man to change is a mistake she's made once before and is determined not to make again.

Then again, it's hard to resist when your childhood crush finally notices you.

A sweet and clean, stand-alone Christian romance novella that will have you falling in love with the Bloom Family. Hoping for Hawthorne is Book 1 in the 7-book Bloom Sisters Series.

J. Kimball5.0 out of 5 stars Will look for more by this author :)

Reviewed in the United States on July 8, 2023

A really nice read! Every now and again, you stumble across an author whose writing style and content make you want to go grab another stack of her books. This author is one of those! Her books tell a fuller story of her characters lives and not just a one dimensional plot to get to a wedding. Her characters have a lived faith, not just Bible verses on a page. The content was clean, the plot well-developed, and it did end happily ever after. Highly recommend reading this and other work from this author!

Hawthorne shifted on his barstool, sipping his
drink as his friend, Shayne, recounted a raucous story Hawthorne had heard a
dozen times before. He resisted the urge to sigh. This was the third night this
week they'd spent doing the same thing. There wasn’t much to do in Terre Haute,
Indiana, but it was better than staying at the farm where he lived with his
parents and sisters.

He pulled himself back into the conversation,
ribbing Shayne on his over-embellished narrative about waiting too long for a
date to be ready. "It was five minutes, not thirty. Don't be such a drama
queen."

Shayne waved a hand, “Whatever. Either way, it
took forever, and if I hadn't thought I'd get lucky after dinner, I never would
have waited."

Roars of laughter erupted from the group of men
before Craig chimed in with his own online dating experience.

Eager to feel less disconnected, Hawthorne
followed it with a story of his own. Since dating apps never held his interest,
it was one of the few he had.

As he described his date, doing some
embellishing of his own, his friends jeered and cracked up. Hawthorne ignored
the twinge of conscience and delivered his last joke with gusto. Holding up two
fingers, he made eye contact with his enraptured listeners. “Two words, fellas.
Woof, woof.” Howls of laughter rang out and the short, curvy waitress ducked
between Shayne and Hawthorne, grabbing empty glasses and delivering chips and salsa.

Shayne flirted shamelessly with the waitress,
rubbing a hand down her arm with a wink. "Thank you, sweetheart. Now, make
sure you walk away nice and slow so we can enjoy the view."

With a shake of his head, Hawthorne laughed at
his friend’s antics. Sure, sometimes Shayne got carried away, but he was a nice
guy for the most part. The waitress ducked out of reach and gave a tight-lipped
smile. "Can I get you guys anything else?"

"What are you offering?" Shayne asked with a leer.

"I can think of a few things I'd
like," Craig added to Shayne's suggestive proposition.

Wendy tensed and looked toward the bartender.
When she opened her mouth, Hawthorne was surprised to hear a strong, feminine
voice coming from behind him instead.

"Leave the woman alone, jerks. Can’t you just let her do her job without harassing her?” The venom in the voice
practically stung as it continued loudly above the music. “Believe it or not,
not every girl wants you and your immature, demeaning views on women."

Shayne's mouth gaped and Hawthorne raised his
eyebrows. Who did this girl think she was?

He turned around to look at her and saw a beautiful woman with a fierce, angry look. Momentarily, her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open, surprise crossing her features. Hawthorne racked his
brain; did he know her? She looked familiar, but Hawthorne wasn't sure from
where. Maybe he'd seen her here before. Was she on the dating app he'd
downloaded and swiped through? Her gray eyes narrowed at him, flashing with
irritation again. A colorful headband contrasted starkly with the pale, golden
strands of her hair, tied back in a loose ponytail. Stunning.

Shayne was still sputtering his objections to
the interruption. Wendy slipped away in the midst of the distraction and went
to take care of her other tables.

"Hawthorne Bloom, your mama raised you
better than this." Hawthorne's mouth dropped open. She knew his name? This
girl was beautiful, why didn't he remember her?

"Look, lady. Mind your own-"

Hawthorne interrupted Craig and turned fully in
his chair. "Do I know you?" The woman leaned back in her chair and
crossed her arms.

"I guess not," she replied with a
raised eyebrow. Then, leaving cash for her check, she grabbed her book and
jacket and walked away from the table where she’d been sitting alone. After two
steps, she turned back. "Your waitress is a person. Leave her alone or treat her with respect. All of you,” she waved a hand at the table of wide-eyed
guys, “grow up. And you?” she pointed at Hawthorne, “Find some new friends. I
would have thought you were better than this.”

With that parting shot, she weaved through
tables and ducked around patrons of the bar.

Shayne jabbered about disrespect and how it was
all innocent fun. But Hawthorne sat, frozen on his chair and staring at the
path the stranger had taken on her way out. But she wasn't a stranger. Or was
she? Somehow, she knew him, and he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that he
recognized her.

Swallowing the urge to chase after her, Hawthorne turned back to his friends and jumped into the conversation with a
shake of his head. "That was weird."

"Yeah, man. Did you know her?" someone
asked from across the table.

With a baffled shrug he said, "No. Not that
I can remember,” still racking his brain for a name that wouldn’t come.

With that, Craig was off on a story of the time
he ran into a one-night stand he didn't remember at all. Hawthorne laughed at
the appropriate places, but his mind was on the gutsy blonde with familiar
eyes. She'd been disappointed in him. Join the club, beautiful. It seemed
someone was always disappointed in him at home. Why should it bother him now?
He hadn't been the one flirting with the waitress. And even if he thought
Shayne and Craig took it too far, Wendy was a good sport. They were just having
a little fun. His eyes fell closed and he tipped his head back at the ceiling
when he realized what he had been saying before Shayne came on to Wendy.

Woof, woof. He winced at the thought of the
woman overhearing the crude comment.

No wonder she thought he was scummy. Why did it
matter, though? He didn’t know her. Still, she seemed to know him or, at least,
his family, and her reaction rankled. He didn’t want to be a bad guy. Even
before the mystery woman’s interruption, Hawthorne couldn't help but feel like
this same old routine was nothing but emptiness parading as a life.

At least he wasn't living in his parents’ basement anymore; he'd moved into the old farmhouse with Daisy about eight months ago as they worked to fix it up. Daisy was determined to turn the old
homestead into a bed and breakfast and while Hawthorne wasn't a contractor by
any means, he was pretty handy and could help with smaller projects as he had
time. It was still on the farm, though. Not exactly far from the nest.

Days at the farms. Nights at the bar. Saturday
morning brunch at the main house.

Despite the loud country music and crowd of
people at the bar, Hawthorne felt isolated. Even the constant presence of his
family and the dozen other staff members at the farm couldn’t chase away the
sense of loneliness.

He'd been friends with Shayne and Craig since
high school, screwing around during shop class and sneaking chewing tobacco
behind the bleachers at the football stadium. And after things with his company
went south, they welcomed him back into the fold.

No expectations. No judgment.

He kept ignoring the feeling, but for the past
six months, he found himself annoyed by the constant stream of short-term
relationships and the same shallow conversations about nothing but girls, cars
and weightlifting. Hawthorne dated, a week or two here and there, but nothing
like his friends who had every dating and hook-up app on the market. They spent
more time primping in the morning than any of Hawthorne's six sisters.

If he didn't have his friends, though, who did
he have? Hawthorne loved his family and each of his sisters, especially. But
there was only so much sisterly love a guy could take; six sisters meant an
awful lot of estrogen. His parents were wonderful, but his dad was determined
that his one-and-only son should take over the family business.

It was too much pressure.

Hawthorne enjoyed his current role as the
wandering handyman. Whatever needed attention, he took care of it. No
expectations. No drastic consequences. Then, at the end of the day, he could
leave and have a good time with his buddies.

Work to live, not live to work.

His sisters all had such concrete goals. Daisy
cared far too much about her bed and breakfast, as evidenced by the minor
breakdown she'd had this morning when the lumberyard said the tiles she ordered
wouldn't be in for two more weeks. Rose practically slept with her precious
goats and Poppy was growing the organic produce business every season. When he
thought of them, Hawthorne filled with pride at the accomplishments of his
sisters, but it was tinged with envy. It was easy to feel aimless surrounded by
a family so focused on purpose and so trusting in God's plan.

He just wanted to have a good time, and it didn’t seem like such a bad goal to have. However, with the last swallow of his watered-down drink, Hawthorne considered whether these nights with his friends could really count as such. If he was honest, the best part of the evening was
the unexpected conversation with the fiery stranger. Hawthorne glanced toward
the door again, hoping she'd walk back through it. He'd probably never see her
again, and he wasn't sure exactly why that thought bothered him so much.