(Love in Maple Falls)
Publication date: September 24th 2025
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance, Sports
Synopsis:
Rule #1: Never fall for a hockey player. So why does my dating coach—who also happens to play hockey—make me want to break every rule I’ve set?
Neesha
It starts with one conversation with a stranger…and suddenly, everything changes.
He won’t tell me what he does for a living, and maybe that should be a red flag. But after the hardest year of my life, my new neighbor feels like a lifeline—calm, capable, and always there when I need him.
When he offers to be my dating coach, I tell myself it’s harmless. That he just wants to help.
But behind that cinnamon roll smile, he’s hiding something—and I’m starting to fall for him anyway.
I told myself we were just friends.
So why am I dreaming about kissing the one man I swore I’d never fall for?
Lucian
Keeping my hockey identity secret was supposed to be temporary—just long enough to figure out my next move with the girl next door.
There’s just one problem: she’s sworn off hockey players for good.
She asked me to help her fall for someone else and be her dating coach.
But I’m the one falling now.
And when she finds out who I really am, I might lose the only woman who’s ever made me want something more than the game.
I stopped pretending it was a fake date a long time ago.
But when our fun leads to feelings? That’s the icing on the cake.
Tropes in The Icing on the Cake
● Cinnamon roll hero
● Secret identity
● Neighbor romance
● Stars Hollow/Gilmore Girls vibe
● Cupcake baker heroine
● Handy hero who fixes things
● Forced proximity
● Practice dating / fake dating
The Icing on the Cake is a slow-burn, secret-identity hockey romance featuring a cinnamon roll hero who falls hard for the sweet cupcake baker next door.
Excerpt
“You need practice dating. I could help.” He shrugs. “No pressure. No commitment. Just proving it’s possible to have a good time with a friend.”
A friend—someone safe and harmless to my heart.
I stare at him. “You’re joking, right?”
“I wouldn’t joke about this. We could even go to a public place together if that makes you feel safer.”
Most guys would be focused on convincing me they’re fun or interesting, but Lucian’s defense is that he’s trustworthy.
And that’s my issue.
“Think about it,” he begins, not pressuring me at all. “You already know where I live. And with me, what you see is what you get—even when I’m sweaty and covered in sawdust—so there’s nowhere to go but up.”
I can’t tell him that seeing him sweaty and covered in sawdust was actually incredibly attractive.
I blink, stunned that he’s actually serious about this proposal. “Does this mean you’re my dating coach?”
“If you want me to be,” he says, studying my face. “Though I have to ask what exactly you think you need to practice—because from where I’m standing, you seem to have the basics covered.”
I let out a nervous laugh. “Are you kidding? I can barely string two coherent sentences together. Case in point: ‘Hi-ho’ was my greeting to you. No one wants to date the Seven Dwarfs.”
He tilts his head, considering this. “I don’t know. Snow White seemed pretty happy with them. And for the record, your ‘Hi-ho’ was actually kind of cute.”
“Well, I feel like I’ve forgotten how to make conversation that doesn’t revolve around cupcake orders,” I admit. "Besides, you probably have women lining up to go out with you.”
“Not really,” he says quietly, before looking back at me. “You want to know what dating a good man looks like? I could show you.”
My pulse skips a beat. “Show me how?”
“Well, we’re alone. We’ve got time now.” He pauses. “What if I gave you a quick demonstration, just so you know what to expect?”
Something flutters in my stomach. “A demonstration?”
“Just the basics. How a guy should treat you, what good conversation feels like, how to read the signals. Think of it as a preview of coming attractions.”
This is definitely not what my friends had in mind when they said to flirt with Lucian.
Or maybe it is.
“Okay,” I say before I think better of it. “Show me.”
He catches my gaze while my heart dives off a cliff.
“If this were a date,” he says, “the first thing I’d do is make sure you felt comfortable. That starts with eye contact.”
His gaze remains on mine, never wavering. “Most people are afraid to really look at someone, but eye contact is everything. It shows you’re present, that you’re interested in the person, not just waiting for your turn to talk.”
I find myself caught in his impossibly blue eyes, my heart beating wildly in my chest.
“Then, if the moment feels right…” He reaches toward me, his fingers brushing mine. “Small touches. Like this.”
I almost can’t breathe as he gently takes one of my hands.
“Most people rush through moments like these,” he says, his voice low. “But the small touches matter. They tell you everything.”
“Like what?”
“Like whether someone’s patient or impulsive.” His thumb starts stroking slowly over my skin. “Or whether they’re paying attention to how you respond.”
I swallow hard, failing to hide that I’m totally entranced by this.
“What else?” I ask, not even caring if this is real or not. I’m here to practice—to master the art of whatever this is between us.
He moves closer still. “Proximity,” he murmurs. “Letting someone into your space. Reading their response. And not moving away.”
He’s closer than ever now, and for one wild moment, I see him differently—not like someone I’m practicing with, but someone I’d actually want this to be real with.
“And then?” I ask, my voice barely audible.
His eyes graze down my face for just a second. The corner of his mouth quirks up. “And then…you always leave them wanting more.”
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