Erin Nicholas's Blog - Posts Tagged "opposites-attract"
Sneak Peek at Gimme S'more!
An hour later, he was standing outside her hotel room door.
“Piper! It’s me!” He pounded on the door with his closed fist. Again. He’d already knocked. Then pounded. Now he was pounding again and wondering how much he’d have to pay the hotel manager, Stan, to get a key to Piper’s room.
They had the only two suites on this floor so he wasn’t bothering anyone else with his yelling. He could maybe get the heavy lamp by his window and knock her door down. That would probably bother Ken, but Ollie could deal with that later.
“Pi—”
Her door swung open in the middle of her name.
Piper stood there staring at him with wide eyes. “Somebody better be in the hospital or you’d better be bleeding from a major artery.”
He heard what she said. But he couldn’t process an answer. Because Piper was standing in the doorway in a robe, with her hair wrapped up in a towel on top of her head.
The robe was black. And silky. And short. Very short.
It wrapped around her and tied in the front, as robes did, and created a deep V between her breasts.
Her gorgeous, very generous—and did he mention gorgeous?—breasts.
Ollie was a little clueless—even he would admit that—but he wasn’t dead. Which meant that he’d noticed Piper’s very generous curves long ago.
The way she dressed would have made it impossible not to. Her dresses were bright and unusual and even the ones that didn’t hug her hips and ass, caressed her breasts. She also drew attention to all those curves with big belts and bright scarves and other accessories.
The woman liked to draw attention to herself and he always happily gave it.
This robe was nothing like any of those dresses. It wasn’t brightly colored. There were no earrings, no wedge heels, no bows. Just a lot of silk—both in the robe and the skin that stretched below the short hem.
He’d never seen her dressed like this. Not in any of the five years he’d known her. She was always put together, perfectly coordinated, looking kick ass, and untouchable.
Now she looked… very fucking touchable.
Except for the look on her face. And the way she propped her hand on her hip.
“Oliver,” she said firmly.
His gaze lifted to her face. Away from her legs.
Damn, the girl had some great legs.
That shouldn’t be a new revelation. She wore skirts and heels every day. He’d definitely noticed her legs before.
But there was something about this robe or her hair being up in a towel or the way she smelled or this doorway or… he had no idea, but this was different. Her legs had never looked like this.
“Oliver,” she said again, snapping her fingers in front of his face.
“What?”
“What?” she repeated. “You’re beating on my door, scaring the hell out of me, making me get out of the shower to come see what was wrong with you, and you’re asking me what?”
Coming January 19th!
Preorder now!
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2Rbi0Zv
Apple: https://apple.co/2ETK553
Kobo: http://bit.ly/Gimme-Smore-Kobo
Nook: http://bit.ly/Gimme-Smore-nook
Google Play: http://bit.ly/Gimme-Smore-GP
Paperback and Audio coming too!
“Piper! It’s me!” He pounded on the door with his closed fist. Again. He’d already knocked. Then pounded. Now he was pounding again and wondering how much he’d have to pay the hotel manager, Stan, to get a key to Piper’s room.
They had the only two suites on this floor so he wasn’t bothering anyone else with his yelling. He could maybe get the heavy lamp by his window and knock her door down. That would probably bother Ken, but Ollie could deal with that later.
“Pi—”
Her door swung open in the middle of her name.
Piper stood there staring at him with wide eyes. “Somebody better be in the hospital or you’d better be bleeding from a major artery.”
He heard what she said. But he couldn’t process an answer. Because Piper was standing in the doorway in a robe, with her hair wrapped up in a towel on top of her head.
The robe was black. And silky. And short. Very short.
It wrapped around her and tied in the front, as robes did, and created a deep V between her breasts.
Her gorgeous, very generous—and did he mention gorgeous?—breasts.
Ollie was a little clueless—even he would admit that—but he wasn’t dead. Which meant that he’d noticed Piper’s very generous curves long ago.
The way she dressed would have made it impossible not to. Her dresses were bright and unusual and even the ones that didn’t hug her hips and ass, caressed her breasts. She also drew attention to all those curves with big belts and bright scarves and other accessories.
The woman liked to draw attention to herself and he always happily gave it.
This robe was nothing like any of those dresses. It wasn’t brightly colored. There were no earrings, no wedge heels, no bows. Just a lot of silk—both in the robe and the skin that stretched below the short hem.
He’d never seen her dressed like this. Not in any of the five years he’d known her. She was always put together, perfectly coordinated, looking kick ass, and untouchable.
Now she looked… very fucking touchable.
Except for the look on her face. And the way she propped her hand on her hip.
“Oliver,” she said firmly.
His gaze lifted to her face. Away from her legs.
Damn, the girl had some great legs.
That shouldn’t be a new revelation. She wore skirts and heels every day. He’d definitely noticed her legs before.
But there was something about this robe or her hair being up in a towel or the way she smelled or this doorway or… he had no idea, but this was different. Her legs had never looked like this.
“Oliver,” she said again, snapping her fingers in front of his face.
“What?”
“What?” she repeated. “You’re beating on my door, scaring the hell out of me, making me get out of the shower to come see what was wrong with you, and you’re asking me what?”
Coming January 19th!
Preorder now!
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2Rbi0Zv
Apple: https://apple.co/2ETK553
Kobo: http://bit.ly/Gimme-Smore-Kobo
Nook: http://bit.ly/Gimme-Smore-nook
Google Play: http://bit.ly/Gimme-Smore-GP
Paperback and Audio coming too!
Totally...I mean, OTTERLY...Irresistible
He lifted a brow. “Are you going to actually be helpful now or not?”
She loved every single thing about this petting zoo.
“Oh, I’m not going anywhere,” she told him. “I’m definitely going to help.”
He sighed.
Feeling suddenly lighter and happier than she had in a long time—and that was saying something as she was generally light and happy, not to mention on her way to Paris soon—Charlie turned back to the animals.
“Okay, now that we know each other better, how about you all be sweet and head back to the barn?”
Not one animal even looked at her.
“Hey, Stan?” she called to the big goat. “You’re clearly a leader. How about you show me that you can do some good with all that staunch determination and lead everyone back to the barn?”
“You can’t be serious,” the guy said. “Talking to them isn’t going to work.”
“Talking is what I do.”
“No kidding.”
She just lifted a brow. “So what should I do instead?”
Maybe he could give her an opening for charming him into putting that very nice, smirky, sarcastic mouth against hers and…
“Nudge ’em,” he said simply.
Now she blinked at him. “What?”
“Nudge them,” he said again.
“Just… nudge them? As in, push them?” She narrowed her eyes. Were they talking about goats? Or were they maybe talking about grumpy farmers who needed more than a subtle flirtation to make a move?
“Sometimes that’s all they need.”
Okay then. She was going to keep that in mind.
“So…” He nodded toward the goats.
She blew out a breath. Okay, so for right now, they were talking about goats.
Charlie approached the smallest of the animals. He—or she—looked up at her. “Hello, I’m Charlotte. Would you please accompany me across the street back to your barn?” She heard the man’s snort even from a distance. That made her smile even though she was still stuck with the problem of herding goats.
The goat, of course, didn’t move a step.
“I would very much enjoy it if you would grant me the pleasure of your company across the street at your barn,” she told the goat.
This time the goat didn’t even lift his head.
Charlie propped a hand on her hip. “I don’t feel that we know each other well enough for me to actually put my hands on your body, so it really would be easier if you would just head in the general direction of your barn.”
“For fuck’s sake.” Suddenly the man was back beside her.
He bent and lifted the goat, and Charlie couldn’t help but think this had worked out very well.
She hadn’t had to touch the goats, but she hadn’t been entirely unhelpful to him.
Okay, that wasn’t true. She had been completely unhelpful to him. But she hadn’t left him out
here with the goats alone.
The man pivoted and pressed the goat to her chest. Instinctively her arms went up and around it. He let go.
And just like that, she had her arms full of goat.
Charlie gasped, partially in surprise and partially because it only took her a millisecond to think about the fact that she now had a barnyard animal up against her Alex Perry cocktail dress.
“You have to be kidding,” she said to the man.
“When nudging doesn’t work, sometimes you have to get hands-on.”
Charlie blew out a breath. She was tucking that away in her idea of how to handle him too. But she was preoccupied at the moment.
And not so sure she wanted to kiss him after all.
No, that wasn’t true. She still wanted to kiss him. Especially now that he was standing closer.
Even if she had to kiss him over the back of a goat.
Which probably meant she really wanted to kiss him.
AVAILABLE APRIL 20th!
You can pre-order everywhere now at a special pre-release price!
Apple Books: http://bit.ly/Otterly-Irresistible-Apple
Amazon US: http://bit.ly/Otterly-Irresistible-Am...
Amazon UK: http://bit.ly/Otterly-Irresistible-Am...
Amazon AU: http://bit.ly/Otterly-Irresistible-Am...
Amazon CA: http://bit.ly/Otterly-Irresistible-Am...
Kobo: http://bit.ly/Otterly-Irresisitible-Kobo
Nook: http://bit.ly/Otterly-Irresistible-nook
Google Play: http://bit.ly/Otterly-Irresistible-GP
Paperback-Amazon: http://bit.ly/Otterly-Irresistible-PB...
Paperback-Barnes and Noble: http://bit.ly/Otterly-Irresistible-PB-BN
Audio coming soon!
She loved every single thing about this petting zoo.
“Oh, I’m not going anywhere,” she told him. “I’m definitely going to help.”
He sighed.
Feeling suddenly lighter and happier than she had in a long time—and that was saying something as she was generally light and happy, not to mention on her way to Paris soon—Charlie turned back to the animals.
“Okay, now that we know each other better, how about you all be sweet and head back to the barn?”
Not one animal even looked at her.
“Hey, Stan?” she called to the big goat. “You’re clearly a leader. How about you show me that you can do some good with all that staunch determination and lead everyone back to the barn?”
“You can’t be serious,” the guy said. “Talking to them isn’t going to work.”
“Talking is what I do.”
“No kidding.”
She just lifted a brow. “So what should I do instead?”
Maybe he could give her an opening for charming him into putting that very nice, smirky, sarcastic mouth against hers and…
“Nudge ’em,” he said simply.
Now she blinked at him. “What?”
“Nudge them,” he said again.
“Just… nudge them? As in, push them?” She narrowed her eyes. Were they talking about goats? Or were they maybe talking about grumpy farmers who needed more than a subtle flirtation to make a move?
“Sometimes that’s all they need.”
Okay then. She was going to keep that in mind.
“So…” He nodded toward the goats.
She blew out a breath. Okay, so for right now, they were talking about goats.
Charlie approached the smallest of the animals. He—or she—looked up at her. “Hello, I’m Charlotte. Would you please accompany me across the street back to your barn?” She heard the man’s snort even from a distance. That made her smile even though she was still stuck with the problem of herding goats.
The goat, of course, didn’t move a step.
“I would very much enjoy it if you would grant me the pleasure of your company across the street at your barn,” she told the goat.
This time the goat didn’t even lift his head.
Charlie propped a hand on her hip. “I don’t feel that we know each other well enough for me to actually put my hands on your body, so it really would be easier if you would just head in the general direction of your barn.”
“For fuck’s sake.” Suddenly the man was back beside her.
He bent and lifted the goat, and Charlie couldn’t help but think this had worked out very well.
She hadn’t had to touch the goats, but she hadn’t been entirely unhelpful to him.
Okay, that wasn’t true. She had been completely unhelpful to him. But she hadn’t left him out
here with the goats alone.
The man pivoted and pressed the goat to her chest. Instinctively her arms went up and around it. He let go.
And just like that, she had her arms full of goat.
Charlie gasped, partially in surprise and partially because it only took her a millisecond to think about the fact that she now had a barnyard animal up against her Alex Perry cocktail dress.
“You have to be kidding,” she said to the man.
“When nudging doesn’t work, sometimes you have to get hands-on.”
Charlie blew out a breath. She was tucking that away in her idea of how to handle him too. But she was preoccupied at the moment.
And not so sure she wanted to kiss him after all.
No, that wasn’t true. She still wanted to kiss him. Especially now that he was standing closer.
Even if she had to kiss him over the back of a goat.
Which probably meant she really wanted to kiss him.
AVAILABLE APRIL 20th!
You can pre-order everywhere now at a special pre-release price!
Apple Books: http://bit.ly/Otterly-Irresistible-Apple
Amazon US: http://bit.ly/Otterly-Irresistible-Am...
Amazon UK: http://bit.ly/Otterly-Irresistible-Am...
Amazon AU: http://bit.ly/Otterly-Irresistible-Am...
Amazon CA: http://bit.ly/Otterly-Irresistible-Am...
Kobo: http://bit.ly/Otterly-Irresisitible-Kobo
Nook: http://bit.ly/Otterly-Irresistible-nook
Google Play: http://bit.ly/Otterly-Irresistible-GP
Paperback-Amazon: http://bit.ly/Otterly-Irresistible-PB...
Paperback-Barnes and Noble: http://bit.ly/Otterly-Irresistible-PB-BN
Audio coming soon!
Surely it was going to be a flash mob, right?
Otterly Irresistible
“You also can’t bring your friends with you when you’re stalking me,” the man said.
Charlie looked around. Had his stalker brought an entourage? Was it for a flash mob? Or for a kidnapping? Really, neither would’ve surprised her here in Autre. Which was one of the things she loved about this town. The definition of crazy was different here than anywhere else she’d ever been. And not exactly frowned upon.
She also wasn’t afraid to admit she was willing to stick around for a flash mob. Or a kidnapping. She would, of course, call for other people to come out if it turned out to be a kidnapping. Okay, or a flash mob. So it wasn’t as if the guy was actually going to end up stuffed in a trunk of a car. She was just waiting to see which of those scenarios she was dealing with.
“Don’t you think it’s time to go home?” the guy said to his stalker. “Come on. I’ll take you.”
Oh, good, he was a nice guy. Even if Sugar was harassing him, he was still willing to be sure she—or he—got home safely.
Dammit, did this mean Charlie needed to follow them? In case the kidnapping happened away from the bar? Or what if Sugar had a hatchet and duct tape waiting for the guy back at her place?
Or, maybe worse, what if Sugar waited to sing and dance for him in her living room? Charlie would miss the whole performance.
Now she was invested. She was going to have to follow them. Crap. She really wasn’t dressed for traipsing around in the dark. Or the light. Her Valentino Garavani Rockstud ankle-strap pumps were perfection. And not at all comfortable for any kind of distance walking.
But she really didn’t want to miss the flash mob.
Surely it was going to be a flash mob, right?
Or a striptease. At least.
Charlie decided if she were going to do a flash mob for a guy she stalked to a wedding, she’d choose Taylor Swift’s “Love Story”.
Obviously.
She was in town for her cousins’ weddings. Yes, plural. Three of her cousins had gotten married today, and she was now attending the reception held at her grandmother’s bar. Considering the guy was confronting Sugar just outside the back door of the bar, Charlie assumed he was a wedding guest as well.
The Landry family never did anything small, and that, apparently, included weddings. Of course, growing up in Shreveport, Charlie sometimes forgot the easy-going, laid-back ways of the bayou. Hence why she’d worn a pale pink strapless cocktail dress that hugged her breasts and waist and had an uneven hemline that nearly touched the ground in back to a wedding where the grooms wore blue jeans, and some of the guests were alligators. Literally.
She also had on Valentino heels, fake eyelashes, fake nails, and hair extensions.
Yeah, she might have overdone it.
And yes, some of her cousins had already given her shit about the fake fingernails.
Still, as much fun as the food, dancing, laughing, and one-upmanship was inside, she wasn’t above enjoying a little romantic drama outside on her way back from the bathroom.
“Come on, Sugar,” the man said. “Let’s get you home.”
Charlie literally had her fingers crossed for the first strains of Taylor Swift when she heard the stalker reply for the first time.
“Behhhh!”
Charlie jumped, then frowned. Okay, she hadn’t been expecting that.
She peered around the corner of the building.
There was a man sitting on the back step of her grandmother’s bar.
And he was surrounded by goats.
He was holding one goat’s face in his hands and was talking to it directly. The other goats seemed content to munch on the grass and weeds that grew along the edge of the gravel drive that led to the back of the bar. But this goat was, as far as Charlie could tell from six feet away in the dimming light of the evening, gazing at the man adoringly.
There were also two ducks and a potbellied pig. Most of them seemed unconcerned with what was going on, except for the one duck who was standing like a bodyguard next to the goat having the intense conversation with the man.
Surprisingly, none of that was the most startling thing about the scene in front of her.
No, that was the fact that the man on the step was the extremely good-looking man who Charlie had previously asked to dance at the wedding reception. And who had turned her down.
It wasn’t just that he’d turned her down, though without getting too full of herself, Charlie could admit she wasn’t all that used to men telling her no. It was also that she knew they had chemistry. She’d caught him watching her across the bar earlier in the evening, and when she had slid in next to him to order another drink, he hadn’t given her much space. Nor had he seemed annoyed with her taking up any of his space.
Still, he’d turned her down when she asked him to dance. Without an explanation. He hadn’t claimed a sprained ankle or being a terrible dancer or having a girlfriend. He didn’t have a ring on his left hand.
So yes, even before she saw him sitting on the back step with a goat—correction, nine goats, two ducks, and a potbellied pig—she had been wondering what the hell his deal was.
It was probably the not-being-used-to-being-told-no thing, but something made her walk around the corner of the building and say,
“So, does she think that’s a carrot in your pocket? Because it sounds like you’re not that happy to see her.”
Apple Books: http://bit.ly/Otterly-Irresistible-Apple
Amazon US: http://bit.ly/Otterly-Irresistible-Am...
Amazon UK: http://bit.ly/Otterly-Irresistible-Am...
Amazon AU: http://bit.ly/Otterly-Irresistible-Am...
Amazon CA: http://bit.ly/Otterly-Irresistible-Am...
Kobo: http://bit.ly/Otterly-Irresisitible-Kobo
Nook: http://bit.ly/Otterly-Irresistible-nook
Google Play: http://bit.ly/Otterly-Irresistible-GP
Paperback-Amazon: http://bit.ly/Otterly-Irresistible-PB...
Paperback-Barnes and Noble: http://bit.ly/Otterly-Irresistible-PB-BN
Audio coming soon!
“You also can’t bring your friends with you when you’re stalking me,” the man said.
Charlie looked around. Had his stalker brought an entourage? Was it for a flash mob? Or for a kidnapping? Really, neither would’ve surprised her here in Autre. Which was one of the things she loved about this town. The definition of crazy was different here than anywhere else she’d ever been. And not exactly frowned upon.
She also wasn’t afraid to admit she was willing to stick around for a flash mob. Or a kidnapping. She would, of course, call for other people to come out if it turned out to be a kidnapping. Okay, or a flash mob. So it wasn’t as if the guy was actually going to end up stuffed in a trunk of a car. She was just waiting to see which of those scenarios she was dealing with.
“Don’t you think it’s time to go home?” the guy said to his stalker. “Come on. I’ll take you.”
Oh, good, he was a nice guy. Even if Sugar was harassing him, he was still willing to be sure she—or he—got home safely.
Dammit, did this mean Charlie needed to follow them? In case the kidnapping happened away from the bar? Or what if Sugar had a hatchet and duct tape waiting for the guy back at her place?
Or, maybe worse, what if Sugar waited to sing and dance for him in her living room? Charlie would miss the whole performance.
Now she was invested. She was going to have to follow them. Crap. She really wasn’t dressed for traipsing around in the dark. Or the light. Her Valentino Garavani Rockstud ankle-strap pumps were perfection. And not at all comfortable for any kind of distance walking.
But she really didn’t want to miss the flash mob.
Surely it was going to be a flash mob, right?
Or a striptease. At least.
Charlie decided if she were going to do a flash mob for a guy she stalked to a wedding, she’d choose Taylor Swift’s “Love Story”.
Obviously.
She was in town for her cousins’ weddings. Yes, plural. Three of her cousins had gotten married today, and she was now attending the reception held at her grandmother’s bar. Considering the guy was confronting Sugar just outside the back door of the bar, Charlie assumed he was a wedding guest as well.
The Landry family never did anything small, and that, apparently, included weddings. Of course, growing up in Shreveport, Charlie sometimes forgot the easy-going, laid-back ways of the bayou. Hence why she’d worn a pale pink strapless cocktail dress that hugged her breasts and waist and had an uneven hemline that nearly touched the ground in back to a wedding where the grooms wore blue jeans, and some of the guests were alligators. Literally.
She also had on Valentino heels, fake eyelashes, fake nails, and hair extensions.
Yeah, she might have overdone it.
And yes, some of her cousins had already given her shit about the fake fingernails.
Still, as much fun as the food, dancing, laughing, and one-upmanship was inside, she wasn’t above enjoying a little romantic drama outside on her way back from the bathroom.
“Come on, Sugar,” the man said. “Let’s get you home.”
Charlie literally had her fingers crossed for the first strains of Taylor Swift when she heard the stalker reply for the first time.
“Behhhh!”
Charlie jumped, then frowned. Okay, she hadn’t been expecting that.
She peered around the corner of the building.
There was a man sitting on the back step of her grandmother’s bar.
And he was surrounded by goats.
He was holding one goat’s face in his hands and was talking to it directly. The other goats seemed content to munch on the grass and weeds that grew along the edge of the gravel drive that led to the back of the bar. But this goat was, as far as Charlie could tell from six feet away in the dimming light of the evening, gazing at the man adoringly.
There were also two ducks and a potbellied pig. Most of them seemed unconcerned with what was going on, except for the one duck who was standing like a bodyguard next to the goat having the intense conversation with the man.
Surprisingly, none of that was the most startling thing about the scene in front of her.
No, that was the fact that the man on the step was the extremely good-looking man who Charlie had previously asked to dance at the wedding reception. And who had turned her down.
It wasn’t just that he’d turned her down, though without getting too full of herself, Charlie could admit she wasn’t all that used to men telling her no. It was also that she knew they had chemistry. She’d caught him watching her across the bar earlier in the evening, and when she had slid in next to him to order another drink, he hadn’t given her much space. Nor had he seemed annoyed with her taking up any of his space.
Still, he’d turned her down when she asked him to dance. Without an explanation. He hadn’t claimed a sprained ankle or being a terrible dancer or having a girlfriend. He didn’t have a ring on his left hand.
So yes, even before she saw him sitting on the back step with a goat—correction, nine goats, two ducks, and a potbellied pig—she had been wondering what the hell his deal was.
It was probably the not-being-used-to-being-told-no thing, but something made her walk around the corner of the building and say,
“So, does she think that’s a carrot in your pocket? Because it sounds like you’re not that happy to see her.”
Apple Books: http://bit.ly/Otterly-Irresistible-Apple
Amazon US: http://bit.ly/Otterly-Irresistible-Am...
Amazon UK: http://bit.ly/Otterly-Irresistible-Am...
Amazon AU: http://bit.ly/Otterly-Irresistible-Am...
Amazon CA: http://bit.ly/Otterly-Irresistible-Am...
Kobo: http://bit.ly/Otterly-Irresisitible-Kobo
Nook: http://bit.ly/Otterly-Irresistible-nook
Google Play: http://bit.ly/Otterly-Irresistible-GP
Paperback-Amazon: http://bit.ly/Otterly-Irresistible-PB...
Paperback-Barnes and Noble: http://bit.ly/Otterly-Irresistible-PB-BN
Audio coming soon!
Flipping Love You!
Flipping Love You, book three in the Boys of the Bayou Gone Wild series, is coming June 29th!
Here's a peek at Zeke and Jillian!
He's the tattooed bad boy her mama warned her about.
She's his hot mess--but mostly hot--next door neighbor.
Until a two-night-stand gives them the surprise of a lifetime...
“So your stress-relieving list is sex, therapy, wine, and massages. And sex is your preference because it’s faster, easier, and cheaper than all the others.”
“Yep.”
Wow. She was…something.
“Except, like I said, it’s not always faster than a massage.”
Right.
“How long are your massages?”
“An hour. Hour and a half if I’m really tense.”
“Yeah, this is going to take longer than that.”
He didn’t know why he felt so compelled to make an impression on this woman, but now that he’d made her smile, and had her full attention, and had seen her green eyes up close, he was going to send her on her way with a huge grin and very fond memories of Autre.
“Do you have more tattoos?” Her eyes were back on his arm where his full sleeve showed beneath the edge of his t-shirt. Oh, she liked tattoos.
“I do.”
“Are you any good at dirty talk?”
The woman knew what she liked.
His entire body felt like he'd just taken a big shot of his grandpa’s moonshine. He was hot, on edge, and ready for the unexpected. Because when Leo Landry’s moonshine came out, you never knew what could happen.
“As a matter fact, I can’t really help it.”
She let out a breath. Then she gave him a full smile.
Yeah, he wasn’t going anywhere for a nice, long time. And suddenly his head felt fine.
“Do you have a wife, fiancée, girlfriend, woman who thinks she’s your girlfriend even if you don’t think so?”
“No. No. No. And I did but we cleared that up.”
She gave him another of those little half smiles. Like she didn’t want to be amused by him, but she couldn’t resist.
“How do you feel about one-night stands? Because I’m not looking for anything serious.”
“They are my favorite kind of night stand.”
Her smile grew and Zeke felt a strange warmth along with the heat.
“And you won’t brag about this to your friends tomorrow?”
“Oh, I’m absolutely going to brag to my friends about this tomorrow,” he said. He took a step closer to her. “Especially Michael. Since he was out there saving goats and being all charming and sweet and you didn’t invite him to your room.”
“He was on duty.”
Zeke lifted a brow. “That’s the only reason.”
“Probably. He’s hot. And has the heroic, sweet thing going for him.”
“He fakes most of the sweet stuff.”
“How about the heroic stuff?”
Zeke gave a dramatic sigh. “Unfortunately for the rest of us assholes, that’s all real.”
She gave a soft snort. “Maybe I actually am concerned about your head and thought I should keep an eye on you to be sure you don’t slip into unconsciousness and never wake up.”
“I’m going to accept that only because I like it better than the realization that Michael could be in here with you right now.” He leaned in. “But I don’t believe you. I think you took a look at my boots and Michael’s and realized that mine were bigger.”
Her eyes widened. “How did you know I did that?”
He paused, then shook his head. “You did do that?”
“Of course.”
“You are…”
“I know,” she said, when he trailed off.
He wasn’t even sure what he’d been intending to fill in there. Odd? Quirky? Fascinating?
Yep. To all of that.
“So, can I brag to my friends about it tomorrow?” she asked, her voice huskier now.
“You better,” he said, dropping his voice to a gruffer note.
The next smile she gave him was one that said he’d given all the right answers, but even more, it was filled with heat as well.
“There it is.” He reached up and cupped her face.
Her breathing got more ragged as she looked up at him. And she had to look up a ways. She was small. She probably stood about five-three to his six-four.
“What?” she asked softly.
“The reaction I’ve been going for.”
“Reaction?”
“Yes, until now. You’ve seemed very…dispassionate towards me.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly as if she was thinking about that. “Have I?”
“You have.” He leaned in, bracing a hand on the door just above her ear. “Quite insulting.”
This smile was a little more sly and definitely had a touch of mischief. “Maybe you should see how passionate you can make me.”
“Oh, challenge accepted,” Zeke told her.
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Here's a peek at Zeke and Jillian!
He's the tattooed bad boy her mama warned her about.
She's his hot mess--but mostly hot--next door neighbor.
Until a two-night-stand gives them the surprise of a lifetime...
“So your stress-relieving list is sex, therapy, wine, and massages. And sex is your preference because it’s faster, easier, and cheaper than all the others.”
“Yep.”
Wow. She was…something.
“Except, like I said, it’s not always faster than a massage.”
Right.
“How long are your massages?”
“An hour. Hour and a half if I’m really tense.”
“Yeah, this is going to take longer than that.”
He didn’t know why he felt so compelled to make an impression on this woman, but now that he’d made her smile, and had her full attention, and had seen her green eyes up close, he was going to send her on her way with a huge grin and very fond memories of Autre.
“Do you have more tattoos?” Her eyes were back on his arm where his full sleeve showed beneath the edge of his t-shirt. Oh, she liked tattoos.
“I do.”
“Are you any good at dirty talk?”
The woman knew what she liked.
His entire body felt like he'd just taken a big shot of his grandpa’s moonshine. He was hot, on edge, and ready for the unexpected. Because when Leo Landry’s moonshine came out, you never knew what could happen.
“As a matter fact, I can’t really help it.”
She let out a breath. Then she gave him a full smile.
Yeah, he wasn’t going anywhere for a nice, long time. And suddenly his head felt fine.
“Do you have a wife, fiancée, girlfriend, woman who thinks she’s your girlfriend even if you don’t think so?”
“No. No. No. And I did but we cleared that up.”
She gave him another of those little half smiles. Like she didn’t want to be amused by him, but she couldn’t resist.
“How do you feel about one-night stands? Because I’m not looking for anything serious.”
“They are my favorite kind of night stand.”
Her smile grew and Zeke felt a strange warmth along with the heat.
“And you won’t brag about this to your friends tomorrow?”
“Oh, I’m absolutely going to brag to my friends about this tomorrow,” he said. He took a step closer to her. “Especially Michael. Since he was out there saving goats and being all charming and sweet and you didn’t invite him to your room.”
“He was on duty.”
Zeke lifted a brow. “That’s the only reason.”
“Probably. He’s hot. And has the heroic, sweet thing going for him.”
“He fakes most of the sweet stuff.”
“How about the heroic stuff?”
Zeke gave a dramatic sigh. “Unfortunately for the rest of us assholes, that’s all real.”
She gave a soft snort. “Maybe I actually am concerned about your head and thought I should keep an eye on you to be sure you don’t slip into unconsciousness and never wake up.”
“I’m going to accept that only because I like it better than the realization that Michael could be in here with you right now.” He leaned in. “But I don’t believe you. I think you took a look at my boots and Michael’s and realized that mine were bigger.”
Her eyes widened. “How did you know I did that?”
He paused, then shook his head. “You did do that?”
“Of course.”
“You are…”
“I know,” she said, when he trailed off.
He wasn’t even sure what he’d been intending to fill in there. Odd? Quirky? Fascinating?
Yep. To all of that.
“So, can I brag to my friends about it tomorrow?” she asked, her voice huskier now.
“You better,” he said, dropping his voice to a gruffer note.
The next smile she gave him was one that said he’d given all the right answers, but even more, it was filled with heat as well.
“There it is.” He reached up and cupped her face.
Her breathing got more ragged as she looked up at him. And she had to look up a ways. She was small. She probably stood about five-three to his six-four.
“What?” she asked softly.
“The reaction I’ve been going for.”
“Reaction?”
“Yes, until now. You’ve seemed very…dispassionate towards me.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly as if she was thinking about that. “Have I?”
“You have.” He leaned in, bracing a hand on the door just above her ear. “Quite insulting.”
This smile was a little more sly and definitely had a touch of mischief. “Maybe you should see how passionate you can make me.”
“Oh, challenge accepted,” Zeke told her.
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She really shouldn’t fall for a guy with a death wish.
She really shouldn’t fall for a guy with a death wish.
Naomi LeClaire sighed as she stopped her truck in the middle of the road. She didn’t dare pull over to the side. The rain pounding down could wash away the ground on either side of the road in minutes. But it wasn’t like there was any other traffic out here in this storm so taking up the center of the road wasn’t really a problem.
Thank God this road was paved at least. It wasn’t unusual for Donovan to go out on dirt roads and even on not-really-roads-at-all when he was doing rescue and recovery missions for injured wildlife.
She peered through the rain that was pelting her windshield so hard her wipers could barely keep up.
He was lying on the road in front of her truck. Next to the body of a dead bear.
She shook her head.
A few months ago she would have been alarmed to pull up and find a man lying in the road next to a dead animal.
Today…she’d been expecting this. Or something like it at least.
Of course, a few months ago—i.e., before Donovan Foster had showed up in her tiny hometown of Autre, Louisiana—she wouldn’t have been out driving around while a hurricane was making landfall two hundred miles east of them.
She really shouldn’t fall for a guy who loved action and adventure and chaos and who either thought he was invincible or didn’t really care if today was his last one on earth.
But Donovan was out here because there were three orphaned black bear cubs that needed rescued and he would, of course, not go anywhere until they were all found and taken back to his rehabilitation center.
Or until someone convinced him that his well-being was just as important as theirs.
Naomi shut the truck off and reached up to pull her hair back. She wore her hair in cornrows mostly lately, keeping it back off her face and from getting tangled being outside in the wind and weather, doing God-knew-what-might-come-up with Donovan. Now she gathered the long, black braids that fell to her shoulder blades into a bunch and tied them together. Then she got out of the truck.
She was drenched within seconds.
Dammit.
She really shouldn’t fall for a guy who was the reason that over the past few months she’d ended up with a favorite outfit stained with something-she-didn’t-want-to-talk-about, an infected cut on her hand, and a lost shoe. Not lost in the sense that it was ruined and couldn’t be cleaned or repaired. It was just lost. Never to be found.
All things considered, she really shouldn’t fall for Donovan Foster.
The fact that he was outgoing, and charming, and that the crazy risks he took were to save wounded and threatened wildlife didn’t help though.
The hard muscles, contagious smile, deep green eyes, quick sense of humor, and hard, rippling, bunching, often-naked muscles—had she mentioned those?—also didn’t help.
Needless to say, she was now wearing much more practical clothes and footwear when she hung out with him. And gloves. Tough, no-way-am-I-bleeding-after-this work gloves.
But right now she wanted those hard, sun-bronzed muscles intact and inside where they’d be safe. Along with the rest of him, of course.
She marched across the thirty feet that separated them. Though the effect was definitely less impressive because she had to lean into the wind.
She stopped beside where he was lying. He was completely still, his eyes shut, but she knew he wasn’t dead. Or she was pretty sure. He’d apparently texted Zander, the town cop, just twenty minutes ago with his location.
Naomi planted her hands on her hips. “What in God’s name do you think you’re doing?”
He opened one eye, then lifted a hand to block the rain.
“Get off the ground, Donovan.”
She had to raise her voice to be heard over the rain and wind. But that was okay. She was mad and more than a little concerned. This man needed to get his fine ass in his truck and head back to town now. He wasn’t stupid or crazy, but he definitely didn’t take care of himself and he took far too many risks and that bothered her. A lot.
Because, whether she should or not, she had fallen for him.
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Naomi LeClaire sighed as she stopped her truck in the middle of the road. She didn’t dare pull over to the side. The rain pounding down could wash away the ground on either side of the road in minutes. But it wasn’t like there was any other traffic out here in this storm so taking up the center of the road wasn’t really a problem.
Thank God this road was paved at least. It wasn’t unusual for Donovan to go out on dirt roads and even on not-really-roads-at-all when he was doing rescue and recovery missions for injured wildlife.
She peered through the rain that was pelting her windshield so hard her wipers could barely keep up.
He was lying on the road in front of her truck. Next to the body of a dead bear.
She shook her head.
A few months ago she would have been alarmed to pull up and find a man lying in the road next to a dead animal.
Today…she’d been expecting this. Or something like it at least.
Of course, a few months ago—i.e., before Donovan Foster had showed up in her tiny hometown of Autre, Louisiana—she wouldn’t have been out driving around while a hurricane was making landfall two hundred miles east of them.
She really shouldn’t fall for a guy who loved action and adventure and chaos and who either thought he was invincible or didn’t really care if today was his last one on earth.
But Donovan was out here because there were three orphaned black bear cubs that needed rescued and he would, of course, not go anywhere until they were all found and taken back to his rehabilitation center.
Or until someone convinced him that his well-being was just as important as theirs.
Naomi shut the truck off and reached up to pull her hair back. She wore her hair in cornrows mostly lately, keeping it back off her face and from getting tangled being outside in the wind and weather, doing God-knew-what-might-come-up with Donovan. Now she gathered the long, black braids that fell to her shoulder blades into a bunch and tied them together. Then she got out of the truck.
She was drenched within seconds.
Dammit.
She really shouldn’t fall for a guy who was the reason that over the past few months she’d ended up with a favorite outfit stained with something-she-didn’t-want-to-talk-about, an infected cut on her hand, and a lost shoe. Not lost in the sense that it was ruined and couldn’t be cleaned or repaired. It was just lost. Never to be found.
All things considered, she really shouldn’t fall for Donovan Foster.
The fact that he was outgoing, and charming, and that the crazy risks he took were to save wounded and threatened wildlife didn’t help though.
The hard muscles, contagious smile, deep green eyes, quick sense of humor, and hard, rippling, bunching, often-naked muscles—had she mentioned those?—also didn’t help.
Needless to say, she was now wearing much more practical clothes and footwear when she hung out with him. And gloves. Tough, no-way-am-I-bleeding-after-this work gloves.
But right now she wanted those hard, sun-bronzed muscles intact and inside where they’d be safe. Along with the rest of him, of course.
She marched across the thirty feet that separated them. Though the effect was definitely less impressive because she had to lean into the wind.
She stopped beside where he was lying. He was completely still, his eyes shut, but she knew he wasn’t dead. Or she was pretty sure. He’d apparently texted Zander, the town cop, just twenty minutes ago with his location.
Naomi planted her hands on her hips. “What in God’s name do you think you’re doing?”
He opened one eye, then lifted a hand to block the rain.
“Get off the ground, Donovan.”
She had to raise her voice to be heard over the rain and wind. But that was okay. She was mad and more than a little concerned. This man needed to get his fine ass in his truck and head back to town now. He wasn’t stupid or crazy, but he definitely didn’t take care of himself and he took far too many risks and that bothered her. A lot.
Because, whether she should or not, she had fallen for him.
SEALED WITH A KISS is coming soon!
PREORDER NOW!
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"Dare me"
He looked her up and down, his gaze hot. She knew she was a mess. So was he. And it didn’t matter at all. He looked rugged and capable and competent and she wanted to grab him by his amazing biceps, pull him in, and kiss him.
“I heard you had to climb in a window to get someone’s cat,” he said, one corner of his mouth tipping up as if he was amused and impressed at the same time.
She spread her arms. “I do what I have to do. And I didn’t just get a cat.”
“No?”
Bennett overheard them talking. He chuckled. “Leave it to Naomi to walk out of a single cat rescue with four additional animals.”
Donovan was clearly surprised. “Were there other cats sheltering up there?”
“A mama raccoon and three babies,” Bennett told him. “And Naomi barely blinked.”
Naomi shook her head. “Oh, I blinked. And backed up. And almost panicked.”
“Almost?” Donovan mouth curved more fully. “Did you guys have a live trap on the boat?”
“We just put her in the cat carrier,” Naomi said.
“How did you get it in there?”
“Queen Bad Ass here just picked the thing up and shoved it in there.”
Donovan suddenly frowned. “Wait. You just picked it up?”
“Well, I threw a towel over it first.”
“But then you just picked it up?” He seemed concerned suddenly.
“I didn’t have a choice. The cat carrier wouldn’t fit through the window.”
Suddenly Donovan grabbed her hands and started turning them over and running his hand up and down her arms from her
fingertips to her shoulders.
“Donovan, what are you doing?”
“It didn’t bite or scratch you, did it? They can carry rabies and canine distemper. They can be really nasty when they are cornered.”
“Stop it.” She tugged her hands from his grip. “It was too confused and hungry to be
aggressive. It all happened really fast for both of us.” She held up her hands with her palms out. “Michael already checked me out. No scratches or bites. I was wearing gloves and used the towel. I’m fine.”
Donovan just stood staring at her for a long moment. Then he said, “Come with me.”
She tipped her head. “Where?”
“I need more lemonade.”
She narrowed her eyes. She didn’t really want to be yelled at. She was fine. In retrospect, she could have possibly done something different with the raccoons, but she honestly didn’t know what. She supposed she could’ve waited for Donovan and sent him back over to the house. But the animals had needed to be rescued. They’d been trapped and hungry. There had been 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘦𝘴. She’d done what she needed to do in the moment. She shook her head. “I’m good.”
“Just come with me.”
His jaw was tight and she could tell he was upset. Well, too bad. They were all taking some risks out here. She wasn’t special. She didn’t need to be treated with kid gloves or left in the boat when important things needed done.
“The stand with the lemonade is right there.” She pointed to the tent about thirty feet away.
“I’ll wait here for you.”
Bennett had turned away to talk to someone else and Donovan leaned in close to her ear.
“Come with me or I’ll throw you over my shoulder and carry you over there and that will 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 get everybody talking.”
Her breath caught in her chest and her eyes widened. “You wouldn’t.”
“Fucking dare me.”
She had never heard Donovan talk like that. Certainly not to her. But she wasn’t sure she had heard him talk that way to anyone. Yes, he definitely got intense at times, but he never got angry.
Studying his face, she realized he wasn’t exactly angry, though. He was…wound up. Still, she decided not to see if he was kidding about the over-the-shoulder thing.
“Fine.”
They walked together to the tent where huge vats of iced tea and lemonade and ice water were set up on long folding tables. But they didn’t stop in front of the tables.
Donovan grabbed her wrist and tugged her around to the opposite side of the tent. Out of view of the Landrys and her brother.
He turned to face her.
“Look, Donovan, you can’t be mad. I did what I had to do and I’m not sorry. I was as safe as I could be and you, of anyone, should know that sometimes we have to take some risks to get this stuff done.”
He stepped forward, took her face in his hands, and covered her mouth with his.
She sank into the kiss immediately. She wasn’t an idiot. He was worked up and there was a lot of adrenaline pumping for both of them, but Donovan was kissing her. She was going to pour all of her mixed-up emotions into this too and enjoy it for a few seconds.
He finally lifted his head. “I’m not mad.” His voice was husky as he looked into her eyes.
“You’re not?”
“I was…worried. I guess feeling protective. But I’m also—” He broke off, shaking his head as if he couldn’t figure out what words to use.
“You’re also what?”
“I just 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 so fucking much.”
That took a second to sink in, but when it did, Naomi laughed. She understood exactly what he was feeling. “I worry about you and like you so fucking much too.”
“And I really just need space to do this.” He sealed his mouth over hers again.
𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐛 𝐢𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰!
https://bit.ly/Sealed-With-Kiss-Amz
“I heard you had to climb in a window to get someone’s cat,” he said, one corner of his mouth tipping up as if he was amused and impressed at the same time.
She spread her arms. “I do what I have to do. And I didn’t just get a cat.”
“No?”
Bennett overheard them talking. He chuckled. “Leave it to Naomi to walk out of a single cat rescue with four additional animals.”
Donovan was clearly surprised. “Were there other cats sheltering up there?”
“A mama raccoon and three babies,” Bennett told him. “And Naomi barely blinked.”
Naomi shook her head. “Oh, I blinked. And backed up. And almost panicked.”
“Almost?” Donovan mouth curved more fully. “Did you guys have a live trap on the boat?”
“We just put her in the cat carrier,” Naomi said.
“How did you get it in there?”
“Queen Bad Ass here just picked the thing up and shoved it in there.”
Donovan suddenly frowned. “Wait. You just picked it up?”
“Well, I threw a towel over it first.”
“But then you just picked it up?” He seemed concerned suddenly.
“I didn’t have a choice. The cat carrier wouldn’t fit through the window.”
Suddenly Donovan grabbed her hands and started turning them over and running his hand up and down her arms from her
fingertips to her shoulders.
“Donovan, what are you doing?”
“It didn’t bite or scratch you, did it? They can carry rabies and canine distemper. They can be really nasty when they are cornered.”
“Stop it.” She tugged her hands from his grip. “It was too confused and hungry to be
aggressive. It all happened really fast for both of us.” She held up her hands with her palms out. “Michael already checked me out. No scratches or bites. I was wearing gloves and used the towel. I’m fine.”
Donovan just stood staring at her for a long moment. Then he said, “Come with me.”
She tipped her head. “Where?”
“I need more lemonade.”
She narrowed her eyes. She didn’t really want to be yelled at. She was fine. In retrospect, she could have possibly done something different with the raccoons, but she honestly didn’t know what. She supposed she could’ve waited for Donovan and sent him back over to the house. But the animals had needed to be rescued. They’d been trapped and hungry. There had been 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘦𝘴. She’d done what she needed to do in the moment. She shook her head. “I’m good.”
“Just come with me.”
His jaw was tight and she could tell he was upset. Well, too bad. They were all taking some risks out here. She wasn’t special. She didn’t need to be treated with kid gloves or left in the boat when important things needed done.
“The stand with the lemonade is right there.” She pointed to the tent about thirty feet away.
“I’ll wait here for you.”
Bennett had turned away to talk to someone else and Donovan leaned in close to her ear.
“Come with me or I’ll throw you over my shoulder and carry you over there and that will 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 get everybody talking.”
Her breath caught in her chest and her eyes widened. “You wouldn’t.”
“Fucking dare me.”
She had never heard Donovan talk like that. Certainly not to her. But she wasn’t sure she had heard him talk that way to anyone. Yes, he definitely got intense at times, but he never got angry.
Studying his face, she realized he wasn’t exactly angry, though. He was…wound up. Still, she decided not to see if he was kidding about the over-the-shoulder thing.
“Fine.”
They walked together to the tent where huge vats of iced tea and lemonade and ice water were set up on long folding tables. But they didn’t stop in front of the tables.
Donovan grabbed her wrist and tugged her around to the opposite side of the tent. Out of view of the Landrys and her brother.
He turned to face her.
“Look, Donovan, you can’t be mad. I did what I had to do and I’m not sorry. I was as safe as I could be and you, of anyone, should know that sometimes we have to take some risks to get this stuff done.”
He stepped forward, took her face in his hands, and covered her mouth with his.
She sank into the kiss immediately. She wasn’t an idiot. He was worked up and there was a lot of adrenaline pumping for both of them, but Donovan was kissing her. She was going to pour all of her mixed-up emotions into this too and enjoy it for a few seconds.
He finally lifted his head. “I’m not mad.” His voice was husky as he looked into her eyes.
“You’re not?”
“I was…worried. I guess feeling protective. But I’m also—” He broke off, shaking his head as if he couldn’t figure out what words to use.
“You’re also what?”
“I just 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 so fucking much.”
That took a second to sink in, but when it did, Naomi laughed. She understood exactly what he was feeling. “I worry about you and like you so fucking much too.”
“And I really just need space to do this.” He sealed his mouth over hers again.
𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐛 𝐢𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰!
https://bit.ly/Sealed-With-Kiss-Amz
Say It Like You Mane It!
It's almost here! Zander Landry's story!
Here's a peek!
He knew exactly what to do with a woman who’d been left at the altar.
Take her back inside Ellie’s.
There was plenty of booze just inside. And other women. He could easily pawn her off on any of the girls, who would tell her all about what a dumbass the guy was and how she deserved better and how she’d come to the right place to drown her sorrows.
She’d be shit-faced and laughing in no time. Then he’d take her over to the B & B, have Heather put her to bed and feed her in the morning, and then he’d drive her wherever she wanted to go when she felt better.
Feeling a little more optimistic, he approached her.
He had a lot of women in his life, but they weren’t the cry-over-being-dumped types. They were more the cut-off-his-balls-and-feed-them-to-the-gators types. Now that he was in law enforcement, he couldn’t cover for them like he would have at one point, but they all also knew better than to tell him flat out about anything like that. And he knew what questions to not ask.
“Ma'am?”
Her head came up as he approached, and Zander realized that she hadn't been crying at all. Her head had been down, strands of hair falling over the side of her face because she had been hunched over her phone.
She seemed confused when she looked up at him. “Yes?”
When her eyes met his, Zander had to take a second.
𝘎𝘰𝘥𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘴.
That was his first thought. Well, after cataloguing that her eyes were a stunning aquamarine blue, her hair was at least three different shades of gold all streaked together in thick waves, and her skin was smooth and creamy.
All of those were descriptors that came straight from the pages of the books he read with his friends in their romance book club. No way would he have noticed all of that before he’d started reading those damned books. 𝘈 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦 would have done it.
But she was gorgeous. Not just from across a dim room with a tiara-halo on top of her head, but right up close along a dirt road too.
And that was all the most clichéd shit he’d ever heard.
Thought.
Whatever.
Still, he had to pry his damned tongue from the roof of his mouth.
Because of all the stupid romance novels he read. And movies he watched. And country love songs he listened to.
And because he was a Landry.
He sighed. 𝘔𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘺 because he was a Landry.
He might not have actually thought the words “aquamarine blue” without the books, but he would have had the wow, she’s something special thought trip through his head because of his DNA.
The Landry family had as much romance in their blood as red blood cells. They were genetically programmed and then nurtured from the crib to believe in love and fate and soulmates and romance.
Some of them just went with it. Some of them fought it.
But none of them were immune.
𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙖 𝙝𝙤𝙩, 𝙜𝙧𝙪𝙢𝙥𝙮 𝙘𝙤𝙥 𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙘𝙠 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙝𝙚'𝙨 𝙙𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙘𝙩...𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙨𝙩?
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Here's a peek!
He knew exactly what to do with a woman who’d been left at the altar.
Take her back inside Ellie’s.
There was plenty of booze just inside. And other women. He could easily pawn her off on any of the girls, who would tell her all about what a dumbass the guy was and how she deserved better and how she’d come to the right place to drown her sorrows.
She’d be shit-faced and laughing in no time. Then he’d take her over to the B & B, have Heather put her to bed and feed her in the morning, and then he’d drive her wherever she wanted to go when she felt better.
Feeling a little more optimistic, he approached her.
He had a lot of women in his life, but they weren’t the cry-over-being-dumped types. They were more the cut-off-his-balls-and-feed-them-to-the-gators types. Now that he was in law enforcement, he couldn’t cover for them like he would have at one point, but they all also knew better than to tell him flat out about anything like that. And he knew what questions to not ask.
“Ma'am?”
Her head came up as he approached, and Zander realized that she hadn't been crying at all. Her head had been down, strands of hair falling over the side of her face because she had been hunched over her phone.
She seemed confused when she looked up at him. “Yes?”
When her eyes met his, Zander had to take a second.
𝘎𝘰𝘥𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘴.
That was his first thought. Well, after cataloguing that her eyes were a stunning aquamarine blue, her hair was at least three different shades of gold all streaked together in thick waves, and her skin was smooth and creamy.
All of those were descriptors that came straight from the pages of the books he read with his friends in their romance book club. No way would he have noticed all of that before he’d started reading those damned books. 𝘈 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦 would have done it.
But she was gorgeous. Not just from across a dim room with a tiara-halo on top of her head, but right up close along a dirt road too.
And that was all the most clichéd shit he’d ever heard.
Thought.
Whatever.
Still, he had to pry his damned tongue from the roof of his mouth.
Because of all the stupid romance novels he read. And movies he watched. And country love songs he listened to.
And because he was a Landry.
He sighed. 𝘔𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘺 because he was a Landry.
He might not have actually thought the words “aquamarine blue” without the books, but he would have had the wow, she’s something special thought trip through his head because of his DNA.
The Landry family had as much romance in their blood as red blood cells. They were genetically programmed and then nurtured from the crib to believe in love and fate and soulmates and romance.
Some of them just went with it. Some of them fought it.
But none of them were immune.
𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙖 𝙝𝙤𝙩, 𝙜𝙧𝙪𝙢𝙥𝙮 𝙘𝙤𝙥 𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙘𝙠 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙝𝙚'𝙨 𝙙𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙘𝙩...𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙨𝙩?
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Kiss My Giraffe is almost here!
Remember that thing we talked about at Christmas?"
Knox felt his gut clench. They'd talked about sleeping together. And him becoming the temporary foster dad to three baby otters.
And they'd kissed for the first time. A kiss that had been causing annoying, unwelcome, frustrating dirty dreams for three fucking months.
"About having a salacious affair where we sneak around behind our friends' backs and sleep together whenever I'm in town?" she pressed when he didn't answer.
"Yes. I remember." Too well. He was incredibly pissed about how often he'd replayed that conversation and how restless he'd been waiting for her to call or come back to Autre.
He didn't pine for women. Ever. He did the opposite of that.
But now she was here. And Knox wasn't sure what he was feeling. Her showing up unannounced wasn't unusual. Fiona Grady rolled into Autre without warning more often than not in her grape-soda-purple truck that sent his heart hammering and cock hardening.
But it had been three months since he'd seen her. Since they'd talked. Since he'd had any clue what she was doing, where she was, how she was.
Suddenly, she was on his doorstep asking about their plan to bang whenever she was in town for a couple of days?
"Okay, well, there's something I need to tell you that will make you not want to do that anymore," she said. "So I was wondering if maybe you wanted to get naked together once before I told you and ruined everything?"
He opened his mouth to reply. Then shut it without a word. What the hell?
He glanced over his shoulder. Three minutes ago, he'd been sitting at his kitchen table doing paperwork with a cup of coffee and listening to a podcast about new creative urban development ideas.
Now the woman he was low-level obsessed with was on his porch asking if he wanted to have sex before she told him something that would make him not want to have sex with her anymore.
He ran a hand through his hair. This was why Fiona Grady was no good for him. She came into his carefully controlled and organized life and made things chaotic and messy.
"Are you sick?" he asked.
"Sick? No."
"Dying?"
"No."
"Is anyone dying?"
"No."
"Are you married?" He braced himself. He knew very little about this woman, actually, and if she belonged to someone else, he'd… leave her alone. And hate that man. And never forgive her for stirring him up like this.
"Absolutely not."
"Engaged?"
"No."
Okay, that was all…way too much of a relief. He should not be this happy to hear that.
"Did you kill someone?" he asked.
She tipped her head, her mouth curling. "Is that a definite deal-breaker?"
No, probably not. Knox narrowed his eyes.
"No, I haven't killed anyone."
"Are the Feds looking for you? Or will I be implicated in some kind of crime if I let you in?"
"Not that I'm aware of."
"That's not a no."
"I'm just being honest."
Fair enough. Fiona was a wild animal advocate. The type of person to show up at roadside petting zoos and 'circuses' to monitor how the animals were treated and hand out literature to people attending the events, raising awareness about the poor conditions and treatment of those animals. She showed up to help rescue and care for animals, wild and domestic, after natural disasters such as hurricanes and wildfires. She regularly lobbied local, state, and even the national government for animal protections.
The chance that she could have done something in the "gray area" for one of her causes was pretty good.
The problem with that was he knew that wouldn't keep him from wanting her.
She was precisely the kind of woman he should be avoiding.
He studied her face for another long moment, then gave in to the inevitable. He pushed his door open.
"Yeah?" she asked.
"Yeah."
She wasn't dying, wasn't married, and hadn't killed anyone. And he wanted her more than he'd ever wanted another woman in his life. So how was he possibly going to shut the door on her? After three months of missing her? He wasn't that strong. Or stupid.
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Knox felt his gut clench. They'd talked about sleeping together. And him becoming the temporary foster dad to three baby otters.
And they'd kissed for the first time. A kiss that had been causing annoying, unwelcome, frustrating dirty dreams for three fucking months.
"About having a salacious affair where we sneak around behind our friends' backs and sleep together whenever I'm in town?" she pressed when he didn't answer.
"Yes. I remember." Too well. He was incredibly pissed about how often he'd replayed that conversation and how restless he'd been waiting for her to call or come back to Autre.
He didn't pine for women. Ever. He did the opposite of that.
But now she was here. And Knox wasn't sure what he was feeling. Her showing up unannounced wasn't unusual. Fiona Grady rolled into Autre without warning more often than not in her grape-soda-purple truck that sent his heart hammering and cock hardening.
But it had been three months since he'd seen her. Since they'd talked. Since he'd had any clue what she was doing, where she was, how she was.
Suddenly, she was on his doorstep asking about their plan to bang whenever she was in town for a couple of days?
"Okay, well, there's something I need to tell you that will make you not want to do that anymore," she said. "So I was wondering if maybe you wanted to get naked together once before I told you and ruined everything?"
He opened his mouth to reply. Then shut it without a word. What the hell?
He glanced over his shoulder. Three minutes ago, he'd been sitting at his kitchen table doing paperwork with a cup of coffee and listening to a podcast about new creative urban development ideas.
Now the woman he was low-level obsessed with was on his porch asking if he wanted to have sex before she told him something that would make him not want to have sex with her anymore.
He ran a hand through his hair. This was why Fiona Grady was no good for him. She came into his carefully controlled and organized life and made things chaotic and messy.
"Are you sick?" he asked.
"Sick? No."
"Dying?"
"No."
"Is anyone dying?"
"No."
"Are you married?" He braced himself. He knew very little about this woman, actually, and if she belonged to someone else, he'd… leave her alone. And hate that man. And never forgive her for stirring him up like this.
"Absolutely not."
"Engaged?"
"No."
Okay, that was all…way too much of a relief. He should not be this happy to hear that.
"Did you kill someone?" he asked.
She tipped her head, her mouth curling. "Is that a definite deal-breaker?"
No, probably not. Knox narrowed his eyes.
"No, I haven't killed anyone."
"Are the Feds looking for you? Or will I be implicated in some kind of crime if I let you in?"
"Not that I'm aware of."
"That's not a no."
"I'm just being honest."
Fair enough. Fiona was a wild animal advocate. The type of person to show up at roadside petting zoos and 'circuses' to monitor how the animals were treated and hand out literature to people attending the events, raising awareness about the poor conditions and treatment of those animals. She showed up to help rescue and care for animals, wild and domestic, after natural disasters such as hurricanes and wildfires. She regularly lobbied local, state, and even the national government for animal protections.
The chance that she could have done something in the "gray area" for one of her causes was pretty good.
The problem with that was he knew that wouldn't keep him from wanting her.
She was precisely the kind of woman he should be avoiding.
He studied her face for another long moment, then gave in to the inevitable. He pushed his door open.
"Yeah?" she asked.
"Yeah."
She wasn't dying, wasn't married, and hadn't killed anyone. And he wanted her more than he'd ever wanted another woman in his life. So how was he possibly going to shut the door on her? After three months of missing her? He wasn't that strong. Or stupid.
Coming May 17th!
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All great changes are preceded by chaos...
He pulled back just enough to unbutton his shirt and yank it off. Her gaze and hands were hot as she ran her palms over his bare skin, and Knox shuddered. "F*ck, I love your hands on me."
"Me too. God, how have we waited this long?"
That was a great question. When he'd first met her, he'd known she was trouble. He expected that she'd drive him crazy and that they'd clash whenever she came to town.
He'd been right. But those clashes had been foreplay. He'd acknowledged that to himself only, the second time she'd come to Autre. But he'd started feeling respect for her right away. Not only the work she did but the way she treated the people he loved most.
He'd quickly realized Fiona was pushing the Boys of the Bayou Gone Wild petting zoo toward becoming a sanctuary. She'd seen their potential before they'd understood it themselves. And she'd been right on. She'd given the animals a loving place to go, and she'd given the people a purpose that they'd all embraced and grown from.
He was crazy about her for that alone.
Anyone who loved his people as much as he did would be able to get past a few of his walls.
So he'd resigned himself to liking her. Admiring her. Enjoying their banter and her sass.
But damn, he hadn't expected the physical desire to be so strong.
He just couldn't fight it anymore.
A long-distance, no-strings-attached fling with this woman was perfect.
"We waited because I didn't like you for a long time," he said, leaning in to run his mouth down the length of her throat.
"Liar," she said with a breathless laugh. "You liked me as soon as I brought swearing parrots to town."
He groaned. Those parrots had caused him all kinds of headaches with the locals. "No."
She wiggled underneath him, pressing up against his fly. "Yes."
"I wanted you, but I didn't like you."
"Oh, you wanted me the very first time we met." She grinned up at him. "Just like I wanted you."
"I wanted to paddle your ass."
Her eyes went wide but not with shock. Heat. There was heat there. "I know."
He narrowed his eyes. "Yeah? But you kept poking me."
"Yep."
He ran a hand down her side to her butt and cupped a cheek, squeezing firmly. "I still want to regularly."
She gave him a sly grin. "I know."
He shook his head. "I'm going to get to be really dirty with you, aren't I?" Fiona was the perfect type to push and play with. She would never let him overstep, and she would give as good as she got.
His c*ck pulsed with that knowledge, and his body heated. The things he wanted to do to this woman. With this woman. He knew she'd meet him head-on, fully participate, make him beg if she wanted to. But if she let him push her to the point of begging, that would be…amazing.
"You can be however you want to with me," she told him softly.
As she answered, something in her voice or her eyes made him pause. That was so sincere. So…heartfelt.
She meant it, and he sensed that she was referring to things beyond sex.
Instead of pulling away as he probably should have, he lowered his head and kissed her hungrily. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down more firmly against her body. She kissed him back, her hands going to his ass, pulling him into her. She felt like heaven.
"More," she said softly against his lips. "Please."
He dragged his bearded jaw over her cheek and down her neck. "We're going to do this, Fi," he said roughly against her ear. "We're going to have this wild affair. We're gonna f*ck each other senseless." He lifted his head to pin her with his gaze. "And you're going to keep your news to yourself. I don't wanna know. When you come to Autre, you're going to be in my bed. When you're not here, you're gonna answer my f*cking texts. But I don't need anything else."
And he meant that. The long-distance relationship would work. People thought those were hard, and he was sure distance was tough for some. But he knew well that long-distance was perfect for some couples. Like him and Fiona. Two independent people didn't need to be all wrapped up in each other.
He moved to unbutton her jeans, needing desperately to see—and lick—the tattoo on her hip. He'd seen it when he'd needed to do first aid on the ostrich bite on her lower back a few months ago. The tattoo curved over her left hip bone and read 𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘰𝘴.
That was Fiona. She had the potential to turn his world upside down.
NEW stand alone, enemies-to-lovers, grumpy-sunshine, small town rom com!
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"Me too. God, how have we waited this long?"
That was a great question. When he'd first met her, he'd known she was trouble. He expected that she'd drive him crazy and that they'd clash whenever she came to town.
He'd been right. But those clashes had been foreplay. He'd acknowledged that to himself only, the second time she'd come to Autre. But he'd started feeling respect for her right away. Not only the work she did but the way she treated the people he loved most.
He'd quickly realized Fiona was pushing the Boys of the Bayou Gone Wild petting zoo toward becoming a sanctuary. She'd seen their potential before they'd understood it themselves. And she'd been right on. She'd given the animals a loving place to go, and she'd given the people a purpose that they'd all embraced and grown from.
He was crazy about her for that alone.
Anyone who loved his people as much as he did would be able to get past a few of his walls.
So he'd resigned himself to liking her. Admiring her. Enjoying their banter and her sass.
But damn, he hadn't expected the physical desire to be so strong.
He just couldn't fight it anymore.
A long-distance, no-strings-attached fling with this woman was perfect.
"We waited because I didn't like you for a long time," he said, leaning in to run his mouth down the length of her throat.
"Liar," she said with a breathless laugh. "You liked me as soon as I brought swearing parrots to town."
He groaned. Those parrots had caused him all kinds of headaches with the locals. "No."
She wiggled underneath him, pressing up against his fly. "Yes."
"I wanted you, but I didn't like you."
"Oh, you wanted me the very first time we met." She grinned up at him. "Just like I wanted you."
"I wanted to paddle your ass."
Her eyes went wide but not with shock. Heat. There was heat there. "I know."
He narrowed his eyes. "Yeah? But you kept poking me."
"Yep."
He ran a hand down her side to her butt and cupped a cheek, squeezing firmly. "I still want to regularly."
She gave him a sly grin. "I know."
He shook his head. "I'm going to get to be really dirty with you, aren't I?" Fiona was the perfect type to push and play with. She would never let him overstep, and she would give as good as she got.
His c*ck pulsed with that knowledge, and his body heated. The things he wanted to do to this woman. With this woman. He knew she'd meet him head-on, fully participate, make him beg if she wanted to. But if she let him push her to the point of begging, that would be…amazing.
"You can be however you want to with me," she told him softly.
As she answered, something in her voice or her eyes made him pause. That was so sincere. So…heartfelt.
She meant it, and he sensed that she was referring to things beyond sex.
Instead of pulling away as he probably should have, he lowered his head and kissed her hungrily. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down more firmly against her body. She kissed him back, her hands going to his ass, pulling him into her. She felt like heaven.
"More," she said softly against his lips. "Please."
He dragged his bearded jaw over her cheek and down her neck. "We're going to do this, Fi," he said roughly against her ear. "We're going to have this wild affair. We're gonna f*ck each other senseless." He lifted his head to pin her with his gaze. "And you're going to keep your news to yourself. I don't wanna know. When you come to Autre, you're going to be in my bed. When you're not here, you're gonna answer my f*cking texts. But I don't need anything else."
And he meant that. The long-distance relationship would work. People thought those were hard, and he was sure distance was tough for some. But he knew well that long-distance was perfect for some couples. Like him and Fiona. Two independent people didn't need to be all wrapped up in each other.
He moved to unbutton her jeans, needing desperately to see—and lick—the tattoo on her hip. He'd seen it when he'd needed to do first aid on the ostrich bite on her lower back a few months ago. The tattoo curved over her left hip bone and read 𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘰𝘴.
That was Fiona. She had the potential to turn his world upside down.
NEW stand alone, enemies-to-lovers, grumpy-sunshine, small town rom com!
Amz: https://amzn.to/3E7XvUT
Apple Books: https://apple.co/3OhyPhE
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Kobo: https://bit.ly/Kiss-My-Giraffe-Kobo
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A hot, grumpy-sunny, opposites attract, sexy small town rom com!
Gotta Be Bayou
Spencer Landry was a lot of things. But simple wasn't one of them. He wasn't easy to define in any way. He had come into her life very unconventionally as the friend and cousin of her best friend's boyfriend. Max and Spencer had had immediate chemistry and a definite flirtation when they'd worked together.
Then they'd gone months before seeing each other again at Charlie and Griffin’s wedding. Where they’d flirted again. There’d been a kiss, and a hot make-out session that probably would've turned into more if he hadn't been too drunk.
Then he’d showed up on her doorstep the next day to apologize for being a cocky asshole. And had further cemented the fact that he was a cocky asshole.
But a cocky asshole who was really good in bed.
And now he was here. Not just here—and not here trying to win her over, or even try to get her into bed again—but he was here 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨.
Yes, a bomb threat was kind of a big deal. But there was definitely something about him that seemed… wound up. More than she would expect a typical FBI agent to be at a potential victim's house. Especially when all was well. She'd like to think that all law enforcement cared about all victims, but she knew better. If nothing else, they were objective. Spencer Landry did not seem objective right now.
And it was making her heart beat fast.
He seemed legitimately freaked out. He'd used those words. And that was doing something to her. Something stupid.
It was softening her up.
“You're going to stay with me until we find this guy?” She took a deep breath. “This seems like a terrible idea.” An idea that she kind of liked.
Which made it a really terrible idea.
“It makes a lot of sense. You are a target, and the guy is still out there walking around. Until we find him, it makes sense for you to have someone
protecting you.”
“Is this standard operating procedure?”
“I would prefer if you didn't ask me questions like that.”
Well, that wasn’t an answer. “Because it's a secret operating procedure?”
“Because I don't want to answer the question.”
Ah. She had no idea what standard operating procedure for the FBI was in cases like this, but she was not that interested in delving into the details, maybe for the first time in her life. Maybe because she would find out that it𝘸𝘢𝘴 standard procedure. Which would take some of the stomach-flipping-this-is-kind-of-exciting-that-Spencer-wants-to-protect-me stuff away. Or maybe she would find out that it was not standard procedure, which would make things more confusing.
One of the reasons Max was an outstanding investigative journalist was because details were her catnip. She always wanted to know more about every situation. Who, what, when, where, and why were how she lived her life. But she was going to let this one go. That told her a lot about how she felt about Spencer.
“Well, you seem to have a hard time with how I 𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭 and being close to my bedroom and seeing me in a towel.” She liked all of that. Maybe because seeing Spencer tortured was fun. Maybe because it had been a long time since she’d affected a man who affected her right back. But probably because torturing Spencer was fun. “So this could be awkward,” she pointed out.
“We’re going to Autre,” he said simply.
She frowned and processed his answer. “Autre? Why?”
“Because you don't live there. You're not from there. It would be hard for someone who doesn't know you well to trace you to that town. And because you’ll be surrounded by people I trust implicitly who can help watch your back.”
“I need a whole army of people watching my back?”
“It won't hurt.”
Autre, Louisiana, was a little town down by the bayou. Spencer's family was from there. She wasn’t completely clear on his direct tie to the town, but she knew some of his cousins lived there. She’d met them at the wedding where Spencer had kissed the hell out of her and they'd barely kept their clothes on.
It was only about a twenty-five-minute drive from New Orleans. It was a charming little town, and the people there, especially the Landry family, were an interesting, rowdy, fun, and loving bunch.
Would she feel safe there? Absolutely.
Was this a complete overreaction on Spencer's part? Definitely.
What did it mean that Spencer was overreacting about her safety? She had no idea.
“So we’re going to go to Autre together? Because you think that's the safest place for me to be so that you have help protecting me. And you're going to stay there with me?”
Spencer nodded. “Pretty much.”
“How are you going to work on this case while we’re there?”
“I won't be working on this case. Conflict of interest.”
She frowned. “How is it a conflict of interest?”
“I'm sleeping with the target.”
She ignored the way her pink panties said 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘰 𝘩𝘰𝘰! “You are not. You have in the past, but that was before she was a target.”
“I'm going to be staying in very close confines with her.”
“I’m adding presumptuous to your list of character flaws,” Max said dryly.
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Spencer Landry was a lot of things. But simple wasn't one of them. He wasn't easy to define in any way. He had come into her life very unconventionally as the friend and cousin of her best friend's boyfriend. Max and Spencer had had immediate chemistry and a definite flirtation when they'd worked together.
Then they'd gone months before seeing each other again at Charlie and Griffin’s wedding. Where they’d flirted again. There’d been a kiss, and a hot make-out session that probably would've turned into more if he hadn't been too drunk.
Then he’d showed up on her doorstep the next day to apologize for being a cocky asshole. And had further cemented the fact that he was a cocky asshole.
But a cocky asshole who was really good in bed.
And now he was here. Not just here—and not here trying to win her over, or even try to get her into bed again—but he was here 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨.
Yes, a bomb threat was kind of a big deal. But there was definitely something about him that seemed… wound up. More than she would expect a typical FBI agent to be at a potential victim's house. Especially when all was well. She'd like to think that all law enforcement cared about all victims, but she knew better. If nothing else, they were objective. Spencer Landry did not seem objective right now.
And it was making her heart beat fast.
He seemed legitimately freaked out. He'd used those words. And that was doing something to her. Something stupid.
It was softening her up.
“You're going to stay with me until we find this guy?” She took a deep breath. “This seems like a terrible idea.” An idea that she kind of liked.
Which made it a really terrible idea.
“It makes a lot of sense. You are a target, and the guy is still out there walking around. Until we find him, it makes sense for you to have someone
protecting you.”
“Is this standard operating procedure?”
“I would prefer if you didn't ask me questions like that.”
Well, that wasn’t an answer. “Because it's a secret operating procedure?”
“Because I don't want to answer the question.”
Ah. She had no idea what standard operating procedure for the FBI was in cases like this, but she was not that interested in delving into the details, maybe for the first time in her life. Maybe because she would find out that it𝘸𝘢𝘴 standard procedure. Which would take some of the stomach-flipping-this-is-kind-of-exciting-that-Spencer-wants-to-protect-me stuff away. Or maybe she would find out that it was not standard procedure, which would make things more confusing.
One of the reasons Max was an outstanding investigative journalist was because details were her catnip. She always wanted to know more about every situation. Who, what, when, where, and why were how she lived her life. But she was going to let this one go. That told her a lot about how she felt about Spencer.
“Well, you seem to have a hard time with how I 𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭 and being close to my bedroom and seeing me in a towel.” She liked all of that. Maybe because seeing Spencer tortured was fun. Maybe because it had been a long time since she’d affected a man who affected her right back. But probably because torturing Spencer was fun. “So this could be awkward,” she pointed out.
“We’re going to Autre,” he said simply.
She frowned and processed his answer. “Autre? Why?”
“Because you don't live there. You're not from there. It would be hard for someone who doesn't know you well to trace you to that town. And because you’ll be surrounded by people I trust implicitly who can help watch your back.”
“I need a whole army of people watching my back?”
“It won't hurt.”
Autre, Louisiana, was a little town down by the bayou. Spencer's family was from there. She wasn’t completely clear on his direct tie to the town, but she knew some of his cousins lived there. She’d met them at the wedding where Spencer had kissed the hell out of her and they'd barely kept their clothes on.
It was only about a twenty-five-minute drive from New Orleans. It was a charming little town, and the people there, especially the Landry family, were an interesting, rowdy, fun, and loving bunch.
Would she feel safe there? Absolutely.
Was this a complete overreaction on Spencer's part? Definitely.
What did it mean that Spencer was overreacting about her safety? She had no idea.
“So we’re going to go to Autre together? Because you think that's the safest place for me to be so that you have help protecting me. And you're going to stay there with me?”
Spencer nodded. “Pretty much.”
“How are you going to work on this case while we’re there?”
“I won't be working on this case. Conflict of interest.”
She frowned. “How is it a conflict of interest?”
“I'm sleeping with the target.”
She ignored the way her pink panties said 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘰 𝘩𝘰𝘰! “You are not. You have in the past, but that was before she was a target.”
“I'm going to be staying in very close confines with her.”
“I’m adding presumptuous to your list of character flaws,” Max said dryly.
Get it here!
Amz: https://amzn.to/3yxeyNW
Apple: https://apple.co/3sMehDN
nook: https://bit.ly/Gotta-Be-Bayou-nook
Kobo: https://bit.ly/Gotta-Be-Bayou-kobo
GP: https://bit.ly/Gotta-Be-Bayou-GP
Goodreads: https://bit.ly/Gotta-Be-Bayou-Goodreads
