This Summer Will Be Different by Carley Fortune
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This Summer Will Be Different

by

Carley Fortune

(Author)

4.3

-

16,759 ratings


THE INSTANT #1 NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER!

A glorious and tantalizing new escape from #1 New York Times bestselling author Carley Fortune.

This summer theyโ€™ll keep their promise. This summer they won't give into temptation. This summer will be different.

Lucy is the tourist vacationing at a beach house on Prince Edward Island. Felix is the local who shows her a very good time. The only problem: Lucy doesnโ€™t know heโ€™s her best friendโ€™s younger brother. Lucy and Felixโ€™s chemistry is unreal, but the list of reasons why they need to stay away from each other is long, and they vow to never repeat that electric night again.

Itโ€™s easier said than done.

Each year, Lucy escapes to PEI for a big breath of coastal air, fresh oysters and crisp vinho verde with her best friend, Bridget. Every visit begins with a long walk on the beach, beneath soaring red cliffs and a golden sun. And every visit, Lucy promises herself she wonโ€™t wind up in Felixโ€™s bed. Again.

If Lucy canโ€™t help being drawn to Felix, at least sheโ€™s always kept her heart out of it.

When Bridget suddenly flees Toronto a week before her wedding, Lucy drops everything to follow her to the island. Her mission is to help Bridget through her crisis and resist the one man sheโ€™s never been able to. But Felixโ€™s sparkling eyes and flirty quips have been replaced with something new, and Lucyโ€™s beginning to wonder just how safe her heart truly is.

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ISBN-10

0593638883

ISBN-13

978-0593638880

Print length

368 pages

Language

English

Publisher

Berkley

Publication date

May 06, 2024

Dimensions

5.52 x 0.78 x 8.27 inches

Item weight

10.1 ounces


Popular highlights in this book

  • I loved her against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be.

    Highlighted by 1,260 Kindle readers

  • Isnโ€™t it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet?

    Highlighted by 911 Kindle readers

  • Theyโ€™re pulled together, Felix says, voice low, eyes latched on to mine. They canโ€™t help it.

    Highlighted by 699 Kindle readers


Product details

ASIN :

B0CGF1V179

File size :

3662 KB

Text-to-speech :

Enabled

Screen reader :

Supported

Enhanced typesetting :

Enabled

X-Ray :

Enabled

Word wise :

Enabled


Editorial reviews

โ€œThis Summer Will Be Different is a blissful romance novel, the kind you want to visit and never leave.โ€ โ€”ELLE

"A sizzling story of forbidden love." โ€”Good Housekeeping

โ€œYouโ€™ll swoon over their romantic chemistry and relish in the charming coastal setting.โ€ โ€”theSkimm

โ€œWhat a dreamy and sexy summer novel. Carley Fortune knows how to tug at your heart. This is a book filled with great food, lots of charm, and a young woman navigating the tricky question of how she wants to live her life.โ€ โ€”Kiley Reid, New York Times bestselling author of Such a Fun Age and Come and Get It

โ€œThis Summer Will Be Different is a deep and shimmering story of friendship, sex, andโ€” most of allโ€” love. From page one, Lucy and Felix reached right in and grabbed my heart and they havenโ€™t let go. Be prepared to cry, swoon, ache, and cheer. Stunning. โ€”Jennifer Niven, #1 New York Times bestselling author of All the Bright Places

โ€œCarley Fortune has managed to dream up another entirely fresh, deeply layered and beautifully written romance. Except this time the chemistry between Lucy and Felix could power all of Prince Edward Island. For years. Clear your calendar and buckle upโ€”this one will leave you breathless.โ€ โ€”Annabel Monaghan, bestselling author of Same Time Next Summer


Sample

1

Now

Nine Days Until Bridget's Wedding

I study the illustration on the table in front of me, frowning. It's more detailed than my typical sketches. Sometimes, just to show off, I'll whip up a simple line drawing while a client watches. But I've been working with flowers for more than five years, and I don't need to mock up the archways and chuppahs anymore. This time, though, I've carefully rendered each leaf and petal, shaded them in greens and blues and whites. But it's still not right. Floral archways are my specialty, and this one has to be spectacular. Breathtaking. Perfect. Because this is the arch Bridget will stand beneath when she and Miles promise to love and cherish each other, forever, in front of their friends and family. It's where they will share their first kiss as a married couple. Bridget's dad is walking her down the aisle, but I feel like I'm giving her away, too. My best friend, soon to be married.

"I think something's missing. It needs more drama," I say to Farah. She's my second in command at In Bloom and has worked here almost as long as I have. She's a poet with an impeccable eye and a creative soul that was catnip to my aunt. Farah says arranging flowers helps her art. She likes her eyeliner smudgy and black and her clothing bright. Today it's neon orange bike shorts.

I spin in my stool to face her. "What do you think?"

She hums, then shuffles the papers so that all my sketches of Bridget's flowers-the centerpieces, bouquets, boutonnieres, swags, and various other arrangements-are lined up together. "You've got so much plant material here, there may not be room for the guests."

Farah has a manner that oscillates between indifference and disdain. It took months of working together before I saw her full smile, the cute gap between her front teeth, and months after that to learn the attitude is mostly bluster. Farah brings her black Lab, Sylvia, to work with her, and she's a doting dog mom. Sylvia's sleeping under the table now, her nose on my foot.

"You think it's too much?" I ask.

She slits her espresso eyes my way. "You don't usually overthink the design like this."

It's true. Aunt Stacy showed me how to properly care for flowers, both in the garden and the vase, and she delighted in handing down her tricks. But my sense of balance, of color and form-that's innate. And once I'm flowing, the way my hands take over for my brain is magic. The quick snip of shears against stem is my favorite sound.

"You have an eye, my darling," my aunt used to say. "A gift that cannot be taught." Stacy was an actor before she was a florist. Her claim to fame was a recurring role as a busybody Italian relative on the Canadian teen drama Ready or Not and three seasons with the Stratford Festival. She was full of proclamations, and she doled them out with grandeur.

"I know," I say to Farah. "But . . ." I drift off.

"It's Bridget," she finishes.

"Yeah. It's Bridget."

My best friend has the mouth of a sailor, the heart of a mother lion, and a frightening passion for lists, label makers, and spreadsheets. And in true Bridget fashion, she's overseen wedding planning with surgical precision. There's a color-coded binder and a shared Google calendar for the myriad appointments-both her fiancรฉ, Miles, and I have access to it, as well as her files with vendor and bridal party contacts, a day-of schedule, and ceremony musical selections.

The flowers are the only thing she's abdicated control of. She's given Farah and me free rein, and we've spent hours scheming about how to make the Gardiner Museum look like the most magnificent greenhouse. Peonies and roses, lilies and ranunculus, trailing ivy and asparagus fern and magnolia leaves.

Bridget will love whatever I do. She's my most vocal advocate, my loudest cheerleader. My only cheerleader now that my aunt is gone. She's the one person in my life whose love and support come freely and without conditions. She believes in me more than I believe in myself. Her wedding day flowers are a chance to say thank you, to pay her back for everything she's done for me. They will surpass anything I've ever done. They're my gift to her. And I want my gift to make her cry.

I give my forehead a gentle, frustrated bonk on the table, startling Sylvia. I offer her a scratch behind her ear, and she settles back down.

The bell over the door chimes, and I bolt upright, smiling at the young man who's just walked in. He's dressed nicely and looks nervous. A first date, I'm guessing. Maybe it's an important date. A proposal? I have a nose for this sort of thing, and Farah and I run an unspoken contest to see who guesses right. Maybe he's asking his partner to move in with him?

"Hello," I say. "Can we help you with anything in particular?"

"Yeah. I want to get some flowers."

I can feel Farah resisting an eye roll.

"Well, you're in the right place. Is it a special occasion? Who are you shopping for?"

"They're for my boyfriend's mom. I don't know what she likes."

"Meeting the parents?" Farah asks.

"Yeah."

She looks at me, smug. I was close.

"We have a reservation at six at a restaurant down the street," he says. "I saw your sign and realized that I should probably bring her something."

I glance at the clock. It's five forty. That's odd. Bridget should be here by now. She's supposed to meet me in five minutes, but she's usually early. Her final gown fitting is this evening, at a boutique a block west. We're walking there together, getting the dress, then grabbing dinner.

"Let me help you," Farah says, standing. She speaks to the customers with a tone that manages to sound both resigned and wise. I could never pull it off the way she does. I'm bubbly, my smile full of teeth.

She leads him to our hand-tied bouquets. There are only three left, but he's lucky he has any to choose from. We're often sold out at the end of the day.

As she helps him pick, I go back to the drawing. I squint one eye, imagining Bridget in ivory, Miles in his suit. Her dress is elegant, simple. It's one of the reasons I feel the archway should make more of a statement. If her gown were extravagant, I would make sure the flowers didn't undermine it. The dress is stunning, but there's not a flourish on it. There's not even a train.

A train.

I pick up my pencil and begin a rough sketch of an archway that cascades to the floor in a waterfall, extending over the ground. It will be a river of flora. A train of flowers.

I don't notice Farah standing over my shoulder until I hear her say, "Elaborate."

"Perfect."

"Perfect," she agrees.

The next step is figuring out what I need to order, but I've got time. The flower auction, where I do the bulk of my buying every week, is first thing Tuesday morning so I still have five days to decide. And now that I have the archway design nailed, I can turn my attention to tomorrow. I chew on my lip.

As if reading my mind, Farah asks, "Is there anything you want to go over before your meeting?"

I'm having breakfast with Lillian, the events manager of Cena, one of Toronto's poshest hospitality groups. She'd read about the shop in the newspaper and has asked In Bloom to take on florals for all of Cena's restaurants. There are eight of them, one of which is inside the swanky hotel where we're meeting. My Friday will begin with a thirty-dollar omelet and a contract that could change my life.

"I think I'm good," I tell Farah.

I'm certain I'll be signing that piece of paper tomorrow, but I can't deny it makes me uneasy. I'm not sure if I'm having second thoughts because corporate orders don't fill me up-dozens of uniform vases, uninventive, impersonal. Or if I'm worried that I won't be able to handle the increase in volume. Right now, I have Farah and two part-timers, but if I go ahead with Cena, I'll need two or three full-time staffers. And while I love arranging flowers, I do not love being a manager. I find difficult conversations difficult. But if self-doubt and fear are holding me back-it's more reason to jump in headfirst. That and taking the contract mean I can give Farah the massive raise she deserves.

"I'm excited," I tell Farah. "I'm also tired. I haven't slept well in weeks." I've been overthinking when I should be sleeping.

"Maybe if you took a day off . . ."

"You know I can't do that." We're already running at full tilt.

She growls. "Then don't stay out late tonight. You're trash when you don't get enough rest."

Farah moves toward the front door and turns the deadbolt. I glance at the clock, surprised to find that it's already six. Bridget is ten minutes late. Bridget is never late. She's the most reliable person I know.

We've been best friends for seven years, and in all that time, she's been late precisely once. That first trip. The time that counted.

"That's strange," I say, trying to keep fear from seeping into my voice. Bridget's fine. She has to be.

"She must have got caught in rush hour," Farah says. But I can hear the uncertainty in her voice.

"Maybe."

Bridget works as the VP of publicity at Sunnybrook Hospital, and she was going to leave right at five so she had plenty of time even if traffic was heinous, which it usually is.

I send her a text, but she doesn't reply.

At ten after six, panic sets in. I unlock the front door and step into the muggy August evening. I look up and down Queen Street East, searching for a head of white-gold corkscrews. I fell in love with Bridget's hair, staring at the back of her head in a company all-staff before we ever spoke. She's dyed it platinum for the wedding, but I prefer her natural, softer shade. It reminds me of late summer haystacks.

Like the rest of Toronto, Leslieville flexes its charm on hot nights. I see three red streetcars traveling west in a row, an elderly basset hound in a stroller, and a toddler holding a melting ice cream cone, his face and hands coated in glossy green mint chip. But I don't see Bridget.

When I step back inside, Farah is counting the arrangements for tomorrow's delivery, so I grab the broom from the back and begin sweeping the leaves and flowers and scraps of ribbon.

Farah points a long finger in my direction, its sharp nail tipped with a stripe of acid yellow. "Stop what you're doing. I don't need your help."

"I know you don't, but I'm here . . ." And I need a distraction.

"Sit. Relax for thirty whole seconds. Your stress stresses me out."

I look at the clock again. Six eighteen. My heart is pounding. Bridget wouldn't miss something as monumental as her last gown fitting. "We were supposed to be at the store at six."

I call the boutique. Maybe we got our wires crossed, and I was supposed to meet Bridget there? But no, the aggrieved salesperson who answers the phone tells me, Bridget isn't there. In fact, she is twenty minutes late, they close at seven, and it's a very busy time of year, don't I know? I apologize, assuring her we'll be there soon.

I finish sweeping and pull out a stool. I send Bridget another text, fingers beginning to shake, then check CP24, searching for news of accidents on her route.

"Lucy," Farah chides. I don't like the softness in her tone, either.

I've already lost my aunt. I can't lose Bridget, too.

Something is very wrong.

I stand again. Begin to pace. Sylvia watches for a moment, then leaves her spot under the table to walk beside me.

The longest five minutes of my life pass, and then my phone vibrates in my palm. The sound that leaves my throat when I see Bridget's name on the screen is guttural, somewhere between a sob and a gasp of relief.

"Bridget, where are you?" I say. "Are you okay?"

Her voice cuts in and out, barely audible over the wind blowing into the microphone.

"I can't hear you. Can you hear me?"

"Bee?"

The line crackles. I hear the whoosh of a sliding door, and then the blowing stops.

"Bee?" My best friend's voice comes clear through the other end, but it doesn't sound right. It sounds broken. Small.

"What's going on? Where are you? We were supposed to be at your fitting half an hour ago."

"I'm home," she says. "I'm at Summer Wind."

It takes a second for her words to make sense. "You're . . . what?" My pulse has become a jackhammer in my ears. "Is your family okay? Your parents? Is-" I stop myself from using the wrong name. "Is Wolf okay?"

I hear her sniff, and I hold my breath. "Yeah. They're fine. But I thought they'd be here. They didn't tell me."

"I'm not following, Bridge. They didn't tell you what?"

"They decided to drive to Toronto for the wedding. They're making some kind of vacation out of it," she says, her voice pitching upward. "You know how they are."

I do know how they are. Bridget's parents are spontaneous, the opposite of their daughter. It drives her bonkers. Which is why it's not just highly unusual that Bridget has up and left for the island. It's deeply troubling.

"Okay. But, Bridget, why are you in PEI? Your wedding is in less than two weeks."

There's the fitting tonight. I'm supposed to go over to her condo tomorrow. Miles was going to make a fancy dinner while I helped Bridget finalize the seating chart and a shot list for the photographer. I'm throwing the bachelorette party this weekend.

"I know. I know. I know. But I needed to get away, Bee. I needed to come home." She's speaking in staccato bursts, fast enough that I almost miss what comes next. "And I need you here with me."

"You need me there? On Prince Edward Island?"

Farah's eyebrows reach to her hairline.

"I really, really do. Please come," she says. Another sniff. "There's a flight leaving tomorrow that still has seats. I'm looking at the website now."

"You want me to come to PEI tomorrow?" I gape at Farah. Sylvia sits next to her, head cocked.

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About the authors

Carley Fortune

Carley Fortune

Carley Fortune is the #1 New York Times and #1 Globe and Mail bestselling author of THIS SUMMER WILL BE DIFFERENT, MEET ME AT THE LAKE, and EVERY SUMMER AFTER. Before becoming an author, Carley was an award-winning journalist and worked as an editor at some of Canadaโ€™s top publications. She was most recently the Executive Editor of Refinery29 Canada. She lives in Toronto with her husband and two sons. Follow her on Instagram @carleyfortune.

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Reviews

Customer reviews

4.3 out of 5

16,759 global ratings

Satisfied buyer

Satisfied buyer

5

Cozy summer read!

Reviewed in the United States on August 5, 2024

Verified Purchase

Iโ€™ve been wanting to get in a few summer reads before the season is over, & this one did not disappoint. Living in a small coastal town myself, I loved the setting & description of Prince Edward Island as it made me feel right at home. Lucy & Felix were the type of characters that are just easy to love, and the tension between them was perfect. Even though this was somewhat predictable & had some typical romance clichรฉs, it didnโ€™t stop me from enjoying it one bit. This was such a cute story filled with love, friendship, & the difficulties of adulthood. A perfect comfort read for summer.

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wellnessforthewin

wellnessforthewin

5

flew through this book!

Reviewed in the United States on July 8, 2024

Verified Purchase

Another really really cute book by Carley Fortune! I read this immediately after Every Summer After and just love her writing. This was a super fun and easy read and I was intrigued from the start. Even though much of this book involved sexual tension (lol), I thought she did a great job of including steamy scenes without overdoing it and taking away from the overall story. I loved it! Romance, friendship and other fun elements mixed in. Iโ€™d definitely recommend.

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Nichole โ€ข The Beauty and the Bookish

Nichole โ€ข The Beauty and the Bookish

5

The Perfect Summer Read

Reviewed in the United States on May 19, 2024

Verified Purchase

๐™๐™๐™ž๐™จ ๐™Ž๐™ช๐™ข๐™ข๐™š๐™ง ๐™’๐™ž๐™ก๐™ก ๐˜ฝ๐™š ๐˜ฟ๐™ž๐™›๐™›๐™š๐™ง๐™š๐™ฃ๐™ฉ ๐™—๐™ฎ ๐˜พ๐™–๐™ง๐™ก๐™š๐™ฎ ๐™๐™ค๐™ง๐™ฉ๐™ช๐™ฃ๐™š ๐— ๐—ฌ ๐—ฅ๐—”๐—ง๐—œ๐—ก๐—š: โ˜…โ˜…โ˜…โ˜…โ˜…

I just love Carley Fortune and the beautiful stories that she has written! Carley has a way of writing such captivating summer stories that steal your heart and leave you wanting more.

This Summer Will Be Different grabbed my attention from the start and I could not stop thinking about it anytime I put the book down. The dreamy coastal setting of Prince Edward Island where the book took place most of the time had me wanting to pack my bags and head to the island!

The journey of the two main characters, Lucy and Felix and the five years that led up to their relationship was such a fun story. The book went back and forth from present time to the past when Lucy and Felix had just met. I was obsessed with the instant spark and fire that shot between Lucy and Felix and loved that it continued on from day one.

The story heavily involved Lucyโ€™s friendship with Felixโ€™s sister, Bridget. Their friendship was truly something else and had me in tears many times as their friendship progressed over the years. I enjoyed reading about their support of one another and seeing how it never faded and only strengthened over the years.

The connections and the character developments in the book are some of my favorites that I have read and I absolutely loved the strength and depth that was witnessed on each page. The characters journeys and paths through the entire book were written perfectly and I truly enjoyed every second of this story.

๐—ฅ๐—˜๐—”๐—— ๐—œ๐—™ ๐—ฌ๐—ข๐—จ ๐—Ÿ๐—œ๐—ž๐—˜ Best Friendโ€™s Brother Strong Female Friendship Found Family Past + Present Timelines Secret Relationship Dreamy Coastal Setting

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