When Nova smashed her way into my hardened heart, she showed me there’s more to life than basketball.
She taught me patience and forgiveness. With her help, my Kodiak teammates became brothers instead of rivals. For the first time, I cared about more than a game.
But one mistake sent me crashing from all-star to rock bottom.
Broken inside and out, there’s no one to blame but myself.
I won’t let the people I love suffer for my mistakes, on or off the court. I’ll win back the brothers who trusted me, the city that backed me, and the woman I don’t want to live without.
Unless I’m too late.
I have one last shot. One last chance.
Countdown’s on, and I’m playing for keeps.
Play Maker is the third and final book in the King of the Court series. Clay and Nova’s steamy, addictive grumpy sunshine sports romance begins in Game Changer and continues in Shot Taker.
I really enjoyed the conclusion to Lawson’s King of the Court series. Maybe it was because I knew we’d be getting the resolution and HEA that we’d been waiting for but I didn’t find it quite as angsty as the others.
Clay does still struggle with letting Nova in, with letting her help him when he needs it. It leads to some difficult moments as he tries to visualize the future he wants now that he’s gotten what he thought he wanted. Fortunately he figures things out and goes after the things that would truly make him happy … since he realizes that maybe it’s more than just a championship ring.
Play Maker gives readers two characters who really come into themselves – Nova as an artist, believing in herself and her craft, and Clay as a team player, working for more than just the glory. It’s a satisfying ending to quite the roller coaster of a series.
*****
Author Info:
Piper Lawson is a Wall Street Journal and USA Today bestselling author of smart and steamy romance.
She writes women who follow their dreams, best friends who know your dirty secrets and love you anyway, and complex heroes you’ll fall hard for.
Piper lives in Canada with her tall and brilliant husband. She’s a sucker for dark eyes, dark coffee, and dark chocolate.
by Susan Mallery, Synithia Williams, Stefanie London
ISBN: 9781335004871
Publication Date: August 22, 2023
Publisher: Canary Street Press
Blurb:
Nothing is sweeter than the first kiss of summer…
SAY YOU’LL STAY by Susan Mallery. Shaye Harper has sworn off men for good. But when she meets army vet Lawson Easley during a pit stop on the road to a fresh start, she’s drawn in by the quirky town—and the handsome stranger she can’t resist. Lawson knows there’s no place better than Wishing Tree. Too bad the woman he’s certain is “the one” is just passing through…unless he can convince her to give him and his hometown a chance at forever.
THE TIME FOR KEEPS by Synithia Williams. Home to care for her ailing father, Michaela Spears is on a mission: reconcile with the one man she can’t forget. She broke his heart years ago, so when Khalil appears on her parents’ doorstep in his scrubs, she knows it’s her last chance. Khalil Davenport shouldn’t have taken the job as her dad’s home nurse, but he couldn’t resist her. Their timing was never right, but now can he trust that she’s home to stay?
BEST MAN NEXT DOOR by Stefanie London. For Sage Nilsen, coming back to her small Massachusetts hometown for a family wedding feels like high school all over again. Except Jamie Hackett has gone from charming boy next door to handsome best man. And sparks are suddenly flying between the popular guy and the so-called outcast. As the wedding gets closer, Sage finds herself on the edge of something unexpected—a second chance in the town she left behind…with the guy she’s never forgotten.
Before today, Jamie Hackett had thought he’d already faced death.
Like the time he dove off a cliff on a dare, plunging into the ocean with the speed of a bullet. Or
the time he’d come face-to-face with a territorial goose who’d gone apeshit at him for getting too
close to her goslings. Or when his car skidded across a patch of black ice in the middle of winter
and he’d narrowly missed crash- ing into a big oak tree.
He’d been cool as a cucumber, every single time.
But it turned out he hadn’t really faced death. Now that he’d confronted it for real, he understood
what it felt like.
Jamie glanced around the sterile white hospital hall- way, feeling weirdly disconnected from it
all. If some- one had told him he was floating in the air, watching everything happen from above,
he would have believed it. Giving himself a shake, he reached one hand to his opposite arm and
pinched himself. Hard. He winced from the pain.
Still alive.
But the quicker he was out of here the better.
His mom stood at the administration desk, her shoulders hunched. Exhaustion seeped into her posture and made her look even smaller than usual. When she turned to face him, he noticed her blouse was buttoned wrong and her curly ginger hair was sticking out in all directions like it always did when she didn’t have time to style it.
“Ready to go, hon?” She tried to smile, but her eyes were watery and the dark shadows circling underneath made her look hollowed out.
You did that to her.
He nodded.
“Your dad has gone to get the car so he can meet us out front.” She slipped her arm into his and held him close, her fingernails biting into his skin, as if she was worried he’d float away like a discarded balloon if she didn’t hold on tight enough. “No need to rush—we’ll walk slow.”
“You didn’t have to wait around. I could have gotten a cab,” he said quietly. He kept his gaze averted from the goings-on around him, not wanting to see the people being wheeled about and the elderly folk shuffling along, walking their fluid bags like strange, lifeless pets.
It freaked him out.
He was thirty-two for crying out loud. Thirty-two with his whole life ahead of him. With decades ahead of him.
“Jamie Hackett, if you think I would let my child come home from hospital in a cab then I don’t even know…” Her voice broke as she shook her head, still clutching him tightly. He could hear the tears she was holding back, companions of the ones she’d been shedding ever since she’d arrived at the hospital yesterday. “Of course we were going to take you home.”
There was no point arguing. Patty Hackett was an overprotective mama bear at the best of times, let alone when one of her own was hurt. Although really, aside from a few stitches in the back of his head and some chest pain that felt like a couple of boulders had been propped there, Jamie was walking away from this situation a lot better than he could have.
A lot better than what would have been if his best friend hadn’t saved him.
When they made it outside, Jamie sucked in as much air as his lungs would allow, and even though doing so burned, he had to clear the hospital smells from his nostrils. It was warm and sunny out, with a clear blue sky and not a cloud to be seen. The perfect early summer day.
Perfect like it had been the previous evening when he’d decided to get a good sweaty workout in. Perfect like when he’d jogged across the gym floor, warm sunshine streaming in through the windows and the high-quality shock-absorbent flooring cushioning his feet. Perfect like when his fists had sailed at the heavy punching bag, the repetitive pounding motion better than any form of therapy he’d found to date.
Perfect…until he’d almost died.
Jamie shook the dark thoughts from his head as his father pulled the family SUV up in front of the hospital’s pick-up area. His mom rushed forward to open the passenger side door for him.
“I can open the door myself, okay?” he said. He hated seeing her worry like this. Hated knowing that he caused it. “You don’t need to wait on me.”
“Just get in the car, James,” she sighed and shot him a look that told him there was no point arguing. It was easier to do what he was told. And if she was calling him by his full name, it meant she was a hair away from clipping his ear.
So he climbed into the car without another word.
“Son.” His father looked over to him with a crinkled brow. “Let your mother fuss. She needs it.”
Jamie nodded. “You’re right.”
His father turned to face the road as the back door opened and Patty climbed in, scrambling to hoist her small frame up into the giant SUV like she always did. The ride home was filled with rapid-fire questions from the back seat.
Why didn’t you tell us you were stressed out?
Should you be talking to a professional about your problems?
Is it happening again?
The last one made a weird acidic taste burn in the back of his throat. No matter how many years he put between himself and The Great Breakdown of his early twenties, he was frequently reminded that nobody would ever forget it happened.
Because when you were a world-class athlete, your failures didn’t only become gossip—they became lore.
“The doctor said you need to keep your stress levels down and take a break from work,” his mother relayed. “This could happen again. She said that panic attacks can be triggered by working too much and not getting enough rest, and—”
“I know, Mom. I was there.”
“We care about you, Jamie.” His father’s voice was gruff. “This isn’t about blame or trying to make you feel bad. You know that, right?”
Despite everything that had happened in the past, his parents had never once made him feel like he was to blame for what had happened…even if he himself had felt like a giant failure.
“Yeah,” he said. “I know.”
“And the doctor said we need to keep an eye on you for the next twenty-four hours to make sure there are no complications,” Patty continued. The car rolled smoothly along the highway, other vehicles passing them at a rapid pace thanks to his dad’s careful—read: slow—driving. “I got your sister to set up the spare bedroom at our place. And don’t bother protesting about going home by yourself because I won’t have it.”
Jamie glanced at his father, who simply shrugged as if to say, she’s the boss. Too right. Nobody was under any illusions about who was head of their household, that was for damn sure.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Mom. But what about—”
“Flash is staying at Clay’s house,” she said without letting him finish. “He said we could leave him there until you were ready to go home.”
Whenever Jamie wasn’t feeling himself, the first thing he wanted to do was to hang out with his dog. They really were man’s best friend. No doubt Jamie’s business partner, Clay Harris, would spoil him rotten with treats and belly scratches, so it wasn’t like he’d be sad having a sleepover.
Jamie watched the scenery roll along outside the window. Soon they were approaching Reflection Bay, the town where he’d spent most of his life—a town that wasn’t even big enough for its own hospital.
He’d driven along this road so many times he’d lost count, watching the silvery blue of the ocean flicker between patches of green and rugged cliff faces, the tourist-favorite red-and-white lighthouse rising up in the distance. It was the same as it had always been and yet…it felt different now.
Everything felt different.
Forty-eight hours after returning home from the hospital, Jamie was “discharged” from the Hackett Family Hospital. But not without needing to pass a rigorous interrogation from his mother. If someone had overheard the conversation, they might mistake Patty Hackett for an actual doctor rather than the elementary school art teacher she was.
But now that Jamie could taste the sweet air of freedom, he was happier than ever to be alive. Especially since he had been reunited with his canine best friend.
“Isn’t it glorious? The sun is shining. The birds are singing.” Jamie glanced down at his dog, Flash, who ambled with the kind of gait that could only be described as “walking under duress.” “Oh, come on, bud. It’s not that bad.”
The chunky fawn-and-white bulldog looked up at him with imploring eyes as if to say, please make it stop. Flash, named in the most ironic fashion, hated working out as much as Jamie loved it. In fact, it was somewhat of a local joke that the two fittest guys in town had adopted the laziest dog ever as the mascot for their gym.
But Jamie loved Flash with everything he had. The dog might not be able to move faster than a drunk snail, but he had a heart of gold. Flash was always happy to see Jamie, never judged him for working too long or for stressing out too much about his business, and loved nothing more than just hanging out. No expectations, no bullshit.
That was love.
The pair ambled along the street. His business, Reflection Fitness, sat right at the end of the main strip, on a corner. It never failed to make pride surge through Jamie’s veins to see what he and Clay had built together. Their goal had been to create a gym that catered to all the people in their small town, leaving no one to feel like they didn’t belong. Reflection Fitness had clients who were training for big goals like marathons and fitness competitions, as well as clients like Jamie’s grandpa—who was combating osteoarthritis with regular, low-intensity workouts—and Jamie’s favorite personal training client—a bubbly woman in her forties who’d decided to try weight lifting after years of thinking cardio was the only option for women. They had a trainer on staff who specialized in pre- and post-natal fitness and another who ran classes for seniors aimed at improving joint mobility. They had built the gym to be accessible for clients with mobility needs. It was important to both Jamie and Clay that everyone who came to the gym felt welcomed and catered to.
“Let’s get you inside where there’s some air-conditioning, huh?” Jamie looked down at Flash, who was taking each plodding step with great effort. To be fair to the dog, it was unseasonably hot for so early in the summer. “We’re almost there.”
Jamie turned the corner to access the gym from the back door, which led directly into the office he and Clay shared. He tried not to take Flash through the front if he could help it, in case anyone working out had asthma or allergies. But when Jamie got to the door and tried to turn the handle, he found it locked.
“Weird,” he muttered.
The back was usually open if Clay was working, which he should be, given the hour. But perhaps he’d stepped out.
Jamie tried unlocking it. Only…the key wouldn’t fit.
“What the heck?” He tried again. No dice.
He stared at the key, wondering if the knock he’d taken to the back of his head had done more damage than he’d realized. But no, it was definitely the right key.
Befuddled, Jamie walked Flash around to the front of the gym, where a sleek set of glass doors opened to a small reception area. The space was light and welcoming, with a big potted plant and a white couch in one corner. An old black-and-white photo hung on the wall, showing Clay and Jamie in their high school days, arms around each other—a tennis racket in Jamie’s hand and a basketball in Clay’s.
“Jamie!” The receptionist, Sara, brightened when she saw him. She wore a blue Reflection Fitness uniform polo shirt and her long, dark brown hair hung over her shoulder in twin braids. “How are you feeling?”
“Never better,” he replied breezily. “And thank you for sending those flowers to Mom’s place. That wasn’t necessary.”
“Everyone was thinking about you.” Her brow wrinkled. “We were all so worried when Clay told us what happened!”
Ugh, Clay. The guy had a big mouth.
“I told him to keep it quiet,” Jamie muttered. “In any case, I appreciate the gesture. Mom commandeered the flowers right away for her living room.”
Sara laughed. “That’s why I picked tulips. I had a feeling she would end up with them.”
Mama Hackett was a favorite among the staff since she often made oatmeal cookies, energy balls and other healthy treats for everyone who worked at Reflection Fitness.
“Is Clay in?” Jamie asked. “I tried the back door, but I think something’s wrong with my key.”
“Uh…” Sara’s expression turned strange, and she reached for the phone on the desk. “Let me call him through.”
“It’s okay, I’ll head in.” Jamie had his swipe pass on hand, like always, and he tapped it against the electronic reader which activated the gate into the gym.
The screen flashed red and made an angry beep sound.
First his key didn’t fit the lock and now his pass wasn’t working. What the—
“Jamie.”
He looked up and saw Clay striding through the gym toward the foyer, a no-nonsense look on his face. At six foot five with shoulders that could bridge two cities, Clay had the perfect build for the sport he’d loved as a child—basketball. He had dark brown skin, warm eyes and close-cropped curly black hair. Usually, Clay would be flashing his signature charming smile—a smile that had won over just about every cheerleader the guy had ever encountered in his high school and college days. A smile that, now, was conspicuously absent.
“You locked me out.” Jamie shook his head in disbelief. “You changed the locks on the office without telling me?”
“Outside, now.” Clay pointed to the front doors as he strode through the gate. “We’re not doing this in front of the clients.”
Sara dropped her head and pretended to bury herself in work, ignoring Jamie’s gaze pleading for support.
He let out an irritated huff. “Fine.”
The two men walked back outside and Jamie felt a pang of guilt as Flash made a noise of protest about returning to the hot summer day. The trio rounded the corner away from the front of the gym so they could have it out.
“This is for your own good, Jamie.” Clay held up his hands, signaling he didn’t want a fight. Despite being strong enough to beat most men in anything physical, Clay was a gentle giant with a big heart.
He was also, however, stubborn as an ox.
“We’re partners, Clay. You can’t lock me out of my own damn business.” Jamie gestured with his free hand toward the building next to them. “That’s…that’s got to be illegal.”
Clay folded his arms across his chest. “I had a feeling you wouldn’t take this seriously. The doctor said you need to rest and your mom told me to keep an eye on you, because she’s worried, too.”
Typical Patty. Jamie made a sound of disbelief. “I rested.”
“For two days.” Clay shook his head. “That’s not enough.”
“Man, it was nothing. You’re overreacting.”
“I am not overreacting. Do you have any idea what it’s like to walk up on your best friend lying unconscious on the floor? I thought you’d had a heart attack or something. I thought you were dead.”
He felt terrible for putting Clay through that, but he was already feeling vulnerable about this whole thing. He couldn’t let his friend see how much it had shaken him.
“So dramatic.” Jamie rolled his eyes.
“See, this—” Clay circled a finger at his face just like his mom used to when they were naughty kids “—is why I know you’re not listening to what the doctor said. You came right here to go back to doin’ exactly what you were doin’ before.”
“Building our business?” he replied, biting back his frustration.
“Running yourself into the ground. Wake up, Jamie.” Clay shook his head. “You might not be so lucky next time.”
“It’s my call to determine whether I’m ready to come back, not yours.”
“It sure is, because I won’t give you a new key until I’m sure you’re actually taking this thing seriously.”
Jamie’s mouth popped open. “You can’t do that!”
“Sure I can. It’s my name on the lease, remember?”
Oh yeah. That. He’d been meaning to get that bit of paperwork updated for almost three years now, but it was one of those things that kept falling off his to-do list in favor of more impactful items. Besides, he’d always thought Clay would never do him dirty, so it didn’t seem like a big deal.
“It’s our business, no matter what the lease says.”
“Jamie, I’m doing this because you’re my best friend. I want you to take care of yourself.” Clay looked genuinely concerned. “Coach always used to say a heart that pumps too fast is no better than one that doesn’t pump at all. Rest is as important as work.”
Jamie let out a groan. “Sitting at a desk isn’t exactly strenuous. I just need to answer some emails—”
“And then you’ll just need to look at some spreadsheets and make some calls and then some new client will come to you with a sob story and you’ll squeeze them in even though you said you weren’t going to take on any more PT clients yourself.” Clay shook his head. “I know your tricks, man. Don’t try to play me.”
“But what about the clients I have—”
“I split them up between the other trainers. It’s already done.”
“You called everyone already?” Jamie scrubbed a hand over his face. “I told you I didn’t want anyone to know.”
“I said you were helping me plan stuff for the wedding. Best man shit.” Clay grinned and Jamie found his anger withering away. It really was hard to hate the guy when he smiled. “You’re loyal like that.”
He let out a strangled noise of frustration. “I’ll call the locksmith myself.”
“Then he’s gonna have to get through me.”
Jamie considered his options. Anyone who didn’t know Clay might be too intimidated to try changing the locks against his wishes and anyone who did know him would be too charmed to want to try. Fact was, his best friend had him over a barrel.
“What am I supposed to do with myself, huh?” Jamie hated the panic in his voice. Who on earth felt panicked at the prospect of time off?
“I don’t know. Play ping-pong with your dad, go up to the Cape, sleep in. You’re a big boy—you’ll figure it out.”
Clay’s hand came down hard on Jamie’s shoulder, earning him a soft grunt. There was no reasoning with the guy, that much was clear.
Maybe Clay and his mom were right and this was serious. Jamie could have died. When he’d woken up in the ambulance, everything had flashed before his eyes—his whole life. His family. Work. His failed professional tennis career. His business. Long hours at his computer after longer days on the gym floor. Chasing the next thing, expanding the business, more clients, more money. Never satisfied. Always restless.
Was that all his life was about?
He’d always been hyper competitive, driven, and ambitious. But what if he had died the other day? What would he have left behind?
Jamie realized then that Clay was looking at him, as if waiting for him to speak. “No sweat. You want me to chill for a bit, fine. I can do that. You’ll see this isn’t a big deal.”
But even as he brushed off the severity of the incident, he knew the earth had shifted beneath his feet. What he’d thought was solid ground was now loose earth and uneven terrain. He needed to find his footing again. He needed to get himself straight. Most of all, he needed to prove to everyone that this was just a one-off. That he could handle pressure—unlike when he was younger.
Because he couldn’t ever go back to being Jamie Can’t-Hackett ever again.
SUSAN MALLERY: Susan Mallery is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of novels about the relationships that define women’s lives—family, friendship, romance. Library Journal says, “Mallery is the master of blending emotionally believable characters in realistic situations,” and readers seem to agree—40 million copies of her books have sold worldwide. Her warm, humorous stories make the world a happier place to live. Susan grew up in California and now lives in Seattle with her husband. She’s passionate about animal welfare, especially that of the ragdoll cat and adorable poodle who think of her as mom. Visit Susan online at www.susanmallery.com.
SYNITHIA WILLIAMS: Synithia Williams has loved romance novels since reading her first one at the age of 13. It was only natural that she would one day write her own romance. When she isn’t writing, Synithia works on water quality issues in the Midlands of South Carolina while taking care of her supportive husband and two sons. You can learn more about Synithia by visiting her website, www.synithiawilliams.com.
STEFANIE LONDON: Stefanie London is a USA TODAY bestselling author of contemporary romances and romantic comedies. Her books have been called “genuinely entertaining and memorable” by Booklist and have won multiple industry awards, including the HOLT Medallion and OKRWA National Readers’ Choice Award. Originally from Australia, Stefanie lives in Toronto with her very own hero and is doing her best to travel the world. She frequently indulges in her passions for good coffee, lipstick, romance novels and anything zombie related. Visit Stefanie online at Stefanie-London.com.
Talulah Barclay returns to Coyote fourteen years after leaving her fiance at the alter. She’s back to sell her deceased aunt’s home and head back to Seattle as quickly as possible since the memories in a small town are long and no one has forgiven her for running off. And when she finds herself falling for the best friend of her jilted ex she knows life is going to get more difficult. And when she’s injured by shattered glass after someone throws a rock through her window she knows she is not welcome in town. But she still has close friends there and they rally around her and she finds herself willing to open her heart to the town and to the man she truly loves.
Talulah Barclay glanced up to find the reason a shadow had just fallen across her plate. She’d been hoping to ease back into the small community of Coyote Canyon, Montana, without drawing any attention. But Brant Elway, of all people, had happened to come into the café where she was having breakfast and stopped at her booth.
“Of course you’d be the first to bring up my past sins,” she grumbled. They hadn’t seen each other for nearly fourteen years, and he’d certainly changed—filled out what had once been a spare frame, grown a couple of inches, even though he’d been tall to begin with, and taken on a rugged, slightly weathered look from spending so much time outdoors. But she would’ve recognized him anywhere.
The crooked smile that curved his lips suggested he was hardly repentant. “I’m not likely to forget that day. I was the best man, remember?”
She wasn’t likely to forget that day, either. Only bumping into her ex, Charlie Gerhart, would be more cringeworthy.
She felt terrible about what she’d done to Charlie. She also felt terrible that she’d repeated the same mistake with two other men since. Admittedly, jilting her fiancés at the altar hadn’t been among her finest moments, but she’d had every intention of following through—until the panic grew so powerful it simply took over and there was no other way to cope.
It said something that, while she regretted the pain she’d caused others, especially her prospective grooms, she didn’t regret walking out on those weddings. That clearly indicated she’d made the right choice—a little late, perhaps, but better not to make such a huge mistake than try to unravel it later.
She doubted Brant would ever view the situation from that perspective, however. He’d naturally feel defensive of Charlie. He and Charlie had been friends for as long as she could remember. She’d hung out with Charlie’s younger sister, Averil, since kindergarten and could remember seeing Brant over at the Gerhart house way back when she and Averil were in fifth grade, and he and Charlie were in seventh.
Dressed in a soft cotton Elway Ranch T-shirt that stretched slightly at the sleeves to accommodate his biceps, a pair of faded Wranglers and boots that were worn and dirty enough to prove they weren’t just for show, he rested his hands on his narrow hips as he studied her with the cornflower-blue eyes that’d been the subject of so much slumber-party talk when she was growing up. Those eyes were even more startling now that his face was so tanned. Had he lived in Seattle, like her, she’d assume he spent time cultivating that golden glow. But she knew he hadn’t put any effort into his appearance. According to Jane Tanner, another friend who’d hung out with her and Averil—the three of them had been inseparable—Brant’s parents had retired, and he and his three younger brothers had taken over the running of their two-thousand-acre cattle ranch.
“What brings you back to town?” he asked. “You’ve laid low for so long, I thought we’d seen the last of you.”
Pretending that running into him was no more remarkable to her than running into anyone else, she lifted her orange juice to take a sip before returning the glass to the heavily varnished table. “My aunt Phoebe died.”
“That’s the old lady who lived in the farmhouse on Mill Creek Road, right? The one with the blue hair?”
Her great-aunt had been a diminutive woman, only five feet tall and less than a hundred pounds. But she’d had her hair done once a week like clockwork—still used the blue rinse she’d grown fond of in her early twenties when platinum blond had been all the rage—and dressed in her Sunday best, including nylons, whenever she came to town. So she’d stood out. “That’s her.”
“What happened?”
Talulah got the impression he was assessing the changes in her, just as she was assessing the changes in him, and wished she’d put more effort into her appearance today. She didn’t want to come off the worse for wear after what she’d done. But when she’d rolled out of bed, pulled on her yoga pants and a sleeveless knit top and piled her long blond hair on top of her head before coming to the diner for breakfast, she’d assumed she’d be early enough to miss the younger crowd, which included the people she’d rather avoid.
That had proven mostly to be true; except for Brant, almost everyone else in the diner was over sixty. But he worked on a ranch, so he was probably up even before the birds that’d been chirping loudly outside her window, making it impossible for her to sleep another second. “She died of old age. Aunt Phoebe was almost a hundred.”
“I’m sorry to hear you lost her.” He sounded sincere, at least. “Were you close?”
“No, actually, we weren’t,” Talulah admitted. “She never liked me.” Phoebe hadn’t liked children in general—they were too loud, too unruly and too messy. And once Talulah had become a teenager, and her mother had allowed her to quit taking piano lessons from her great-aunt, they’d never really connected, other than seeing each other at various family functions during which Talulah and her sister, Debbie, had gone out of their way to avoid their mother’s crotchety aunt.
His teeth flashed in a wider smile. “Maybe she was a friend of the Gerharts.”
Talulah gave him a dirty look. “So were you. But unfortunately, you’re standing here talking to me.”
He chuckled instead of being offended, which soothed some of her ire. He was willing to take what he was dishing out; she had to respect that.
“I’m more generous than most,” he teased, pressing a hand to his muscular chest. “But if it makes you feel any better, you’re not the only one who struggled to get along with your aunt.”
“You knew her personally?” she asked in surprise.
“Not well, but I’ll never forget the day someone had the audacity to honk at her because she was driving at the speed of a horse and buggy down the middle of the highway, holding up traffic for miles.”
“What happened?”
“Once I got around her, I found she was capable of driving a lot faster. She tailgated me to the bank, where she climbed out and swung her purse at me while giving me a piece of her mind for scaring her while she was behind the wheel.”
Talulah had to laugh at the mental picture that created. “You’re the one who honked at her?”
“The bank was about to close.” He gave a low whistle as he rubbed the beard growth on his squarish chin. “But after that, I decided if I was ever in the same situation again, I’d skip the bank.”
Most people in Coyote Canyon probably had a similar story about Aunt Phoebe, maybe more than one. She might’ve been small, but she was mighty and wouldn’t “take any guff,” as she put it, from anyone. “Yeah, well, imagine being a little girl on the receiving end of that sharp tongue. I’d dread my weekly piano lesson and cry whenever my mother left me with her.”
“I’ll have to let Ellen know that,” he said.
Talulah didn’t remember anyone by that name in Coyote Canyon. “Who’s Ellen?”
“I assume you’re staying at your aunt’s place?”
She nodded. “My folks moved to Reno a couple of years after I embarrassed them at the wedding,” she said glumly.
He laughed at her response. “Ellen lives on the property next to you. She and I used to go out now and then, when she first moved to town, and she told me the old lady would knock on her door to complain about everything—the weeds near the fence, trees that were dropping leaves on her side of the property line, the barking of the dogs.”
“But they both live on several acres. How could those small things bother Aunt Phoebe?”
“Exactly Ellen’s point. Heaven forbid she ever decided to have a dinner party and someone parked too close to your aunt’s driveway.”
Talulah found herself more distracted by the mention of his relationship with this Ellen woman than she should’ve been, given that it wasn’t the point of the anecdote. Brant had always been so hard to attract. Most girls she knew had tried to gain his interest, including her own sister, and failed. So she couldn’t help being curious about how he’d come to date her new neighbor—and why and how their relationship had ended. “Sounds like Phoebe.”
A waitress called out to tell Brant hello, and he waved at her before returning his attention to Talulah. “How long will you be in town?”
She arched an eyebrow at him. “Are you running recognizance for my enemies?”
“Just curious.” He winked. “Word will spread fast enough without me.”
“You can assure everyone who cares that it’ll only be for a month or so,” she said. “Until I can clean out my great aunt’s house and put it on the market.”
“If you weren’t close to her, how come you were unlucky enough to get that job?” he asked.
“My parents are in Africa on a mission.”
“For the Church of the Good Shepherd?”
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t realize they sent people out on organized missions.”
“Sometimes they do, but this one is self-funded, something my dad has wanted to do ever since hearing a particularly rousing sermon.” Talulah wasn’t religious at all—much to the chagrin of her parents. But a good portion of the town belonged to her folks’ evangelical church or one of the other churches in the area.
“What about your sister?” Brant asked. “She can’t help?”
“Debbie’s married and living in Billings. She’s about to have her fourth child any day now.”
He feigned shock. “Married? Fear of commitment doesn’t run in the family, I guess.”
She scowled. “It’s a good thing I didn’t go through with it, Brant. I was only eighteen—way too young.”
“I never said I thought it was a good idea,” he responded.
“If you’ll remember, I made the same argument way back when.”
“How could I ever forget?” They’d always been adversaries. He’d hated the amount of time his best friend had devoted to her, and she’d resented that he was often trying to talk Charlie into playing pool or going hunting or something with him instead. “But let’s be fair. I doubt I’m the only one with commitment issues.” She glanced at his hand. “I don’t see a ring on your finger.”
“I’ve never left anyone standing at the altar.”
She could tell he was joking, but he’d hit a nerve. “Because you bail out before it even gets that far.”
He seemed to enjoy provoking her. “That’s what you’re supposed to do. I can teach you how, if you want me to.”
“Oh, leave me alone,” she muttered with a shooing motion.
He chuckled but didn’t go. “How much are you hoping to get for your aunt’s house?”
“I have no idea what it’s worth,” she replied. “I live in Washington these days, where prices are a lot different, and haven’t met with a real estate agent yet.”
“You know Charlie’s an agent, right?”
Slumping back against the booth, she sighed. “Here we go again…”
He widened those gorgeous blue eyes of his. “That wasn’t a jab! I just thought you should be aware of it.”
“I’m aware of it, okay? Jane Tanner told me.”
“You still in touch with Jane?”
“We’ve been friends since kindergarten,” she said as if he should’ve taken that for granted. But she’d been equally close to Charlie’s sister, and they hadn’t spoken since Talulah had tried to apologize for what she’d done at the wedding and Averil had told her she never wanted to see her again.
“Maybe it’d help patch things up if you listed your aunt’s house with him,” Brant suggested.
“You’re kidding. I can’t imagine he’d want to see me—not even to make a buck.”
His eyes flicked to the compass tattoo she’d gotten on the inside of her forearm shortly after she’d left Coyote Canyon. “Does he know you’re in town?”
She shrugged. “Jane might’ve told him I was coming. Why?”
He studied her for a long moment. “I have a feeling things are about to get interesting around here. Thanks for breaking the monotony,” he said, and that maddening grin reappeared as he nodded in parting and walked over to the bar, where he took a stool and ordered his breakfast.
Disgruntled, Talulah eyed his back. He’d removed his baseball cap—that was a bit old-fashioned, perhaps, but her parents would certainly approve of his manners—so his hair was matted in places, but he didn’t seem to care. He came off more comfortable in his own skin than any man she’d ever known, which sort of bugged her. She couldn’t say why. He’d always seemed to avoid the foibles that everyone else got caught up in. For a change, she wanted to see him unable to stop himself from falling in love, do something stupid because he couldn’t help it or make a mistake he later regretted.
“Would you like a refill?”
The waitress had approached with a pot of coffee.
Talulah shoved her cup away. “No, thanks. I’m finished.”
“Okay, hon. Let me put this down, and I’ll be right back with your check.”
Leaving twenty-five bucks on the table, more than enough to cover the bill, Talulah got up and walked out.
The last thing she wanted was to run into someone else she knew.
Most of the town had been at that wedding.
Aunt Phoebe’s house was going to take some work. Two stories tall, it was a Victorian farmhouse with a wide front porch, a drawing room/living room off the entry, a music room tucked to the left, a formal dining area in the middle and a tiny kitchen—tiny by today’s standards—at the back, with a mudroom where the “menfolk” could clean up before coming in from the fields at dinner. Probably 2,400 square feet in total, it was divided into thirteen small rooms that were packed with furniture, rugs, decorations, books, lamps and magazines. The attic held objects that’d been handed down for generations, as well as steamer trunks of old clothes, quilts and needlepoint—even a dressmaker’s dummy that’d given Talulah a fright when she first went up to take a look because she’d thought someone was in the attic with her.
The basement held shelf upon shelf of canned goods, a deep freezer full of meat that’d most likely been butchered at a local ranch, which meant there would be certain cuts—like tongue and liver—Talulah would have no idea what to do with, and stacks of old newspapers and various other flotsam Phoebe had collected throughout her long life.
Even if she started right away, it’d take a week or more to sort through everything, and the house wasn’t the most comfortable place to work. The windows, while beautiful with their old-fashioned casings and heavy panes, weren’t energy-efficient. There was hardly any insulation in the attic and no air-conditioning to combat the heat. Typically, summers in Coyote Canyon were quite mild, with temperatures ranging between fifty and ninety degrees, but they were in a heat wave. It was mid-August, the hottest part of the year to begin with, and they were setting records.
A bead of sweat rolled between Talulah’s breasts as she surveyed the basement. Even the coolest part of the house felt stifling. And it was only noon. She couldn’t imagine how Aunt Phoebe had managed in this heat. But her aunt could handle just about anything. She’d had a will of iron and more grit than anyone Talulah had ever met.
“How am I going to get through all this junk—and what am I going to do with it?” Talulah muttered, disheartened by the sheer volume of things her great-aunt had collected over the years.
Her phone vibrated in the pocket of her yoga pants. Pulling it out, she saw that her sister was calling. “Hey,” she answered.
“How’s Coyote Canyon?” Debbie asked.
“I just got in last night, but from what I’ve seen so far, it hasn’t changed much.” The town’s population had stayed at about three thousand since the end of the nineteenth century, when the railroad came to town and Coyote Canyon had its big boom.
She chuckled. “It never does. Bozeman is growing like crazy, though. I read somewhere that it’s the fastest growing town in America. You should see how much it’s changed.”
“No kidding? Who’s moving there?”
“Mostly families, I guess, but enough millennials and nature-lovers to change the whole vibe from Western to trendy.”
Only forty minutes away, Bozeman had been where their parents would take them to buy school clothes and other supplies. But she’d had no reason to go there since she’d left Coyote Canyon. Thanks to the stigma caused by the wedding, she’d tried to forget the whole area. “Did you guys come for Rodeo Days this year?” The week before the Fourth of July, Coyote Canyon held seven days of celebration that included rodeos, a 10K/5K run, a Mountain Man Rendezvous, parades, tractor pulls and bake-offs. Everything culminated in the fireworks of Independence Day.
“No. I wanted to,” Debbie said, “but Scott was under too much pressure at work to take the time, and I didn’t want to try to manage the kids on my own.”
“I’m sorry that Paul and I couldn’t make it.”
“Has something changed I’m not aware of? Are you two together now?”
He’d been trying to get with her since she met him, especially after they started the diner. But it was only recently that she’d gone on the pill and slept with him for the first time. “Not really. We’ve started dating. Sort of.”
“Sort of?” her sister echoed.
“You know how hard it is for me to know when I really like a guy. Anyway, how’ve you been feeling? Any news on the baby?” She asked because she was interested, but she was also eager to change the subject.
“I’m fine,” Debbie said. “Just tired.”
“It shouldn’t be much longer, right?”
“I’m due in a week, and the doctor won’t let me go more than a few days over.”
“Call me as soon as labor starts. I’ll come for the birth.” Billings was only a hundred miles to the east. Part of the reason Talulah had agreed to handle her aunt’s funeral and belongings was because it put her in closer proximity to Debbie. She wanted to be there for the arrival of the new addition, especially since their parents couldn’t be.
“I will. I can’t wait until this pregnancy is over.” She groaned. “I’m getting so uncomfortable.”
“You’ve done this three times before. I’m sure the birth will be routine.”
Maybe not strictly routine. Debbie had developed gestational diabetes, so there was a good chance this child would have to be delivered by Caesarean section. But they were pretending there’d be no complications. Neither of them cared to consider all the things that could go wrong.
“I feel bad that you’re having to take so much time away from the dessert diner,” she said. “Maybe I should drive over for the funeral, at least, and help while I can.”
“Don’t you dare!” Talulah said. “I don’t want you going into labor while you’re here. Your husband, your doctor, everyone and everything you need are there.”
“But I’m just sitting around with my swollen ankles while you deal with everything in that musty house.”
Musty, sweltering house. But Talulah didn’t want to make Debbie feel any guiltier. Besides, her sister wasn’t just sitting around. She was watching her other kids. Talulah could hear them, and the TV, in the background and knew that Debbie would have to bring her young nieces and nephew if she came here. Having them underfoot would only make it harder to get anything done. “The church is stepping in to organize the funeral. You set that up yourself. So you have been involved. Besides, much to our parents’ dismay, you’re the only one giving them grandkids. This is the least I can do for Mom and Dad.”
Debbie laughed. “Have you heard from them?”
“They called last night to make sure I got in okay.”
“How long did the drive take you?”
“Ten hours.”
“Ugh!”
“It wasn’t a big deal. I couldn’t fly—I knew I’d need a car while I was here.” She’d made the trip to Reno several times since her family moved from Coyote Canyon, so she was used to driving even farther. They’d only visited Seattle once, but Talulah had been so busy with college, then culinary school, then working in various restaurants before launching Talulah’s Dessert Diner with Paul, whom she’d met along the way, that she didn’t mind.
“I’m surprised they aren’t coming home for the funeral,” Debbie mused.
Not to mention the birth of their latest grandchild. Talulah thought she could hear the disappointment in her sister’s voice, but Debbie would never complain, especially to a defector like Talulah. Debbie remained as committed to their parents’ faith as they did. “I’m not surprised,” Talulah said. “Africa is so far away, and they’d only have to turn around and go right back. They want to remain focused on their mission, at least until they’re officially released.”
“Aunt Phoebe was so prickly, she and Mom were never very close, anyway,” Debbie added.
That wasn’t strictly true. Phoebe used to have them over for dinner every Sunday, and Carolyn brought Talulah and Debbie over for piano lessons. It was only later that they had a bit of a falling-out and quit talking. Despite that, Talulah guessed their mother felt conflicted about missing her aunt’s funeral. She also understood that Carolyn wasn’t going to change her mind. Choosing her mission over her family was almost a matter of pride; it showcased the level of her belief. “When we visited Aunt Phoebe, and we weren’t there for piano lessons, we had to sit on chairs in the cramped dining room or living room, and she’d snap at us to quit wiggling, remember?”
“That was if she’d let us in the house at all,” Debbie said drily. “She used to tell us to go out front and play.”
“With no toys.”
“She was the sternest person I’ve ever met.”
“She also never threw anything away.”
“She was a hoarder?”
“Kind of. She somehow managed to be fastidious and clean at the same time, so it’s not the type of hoarding you imagine when you hear the word, but it’s so cluttered in here I can barely move from room to room.”
“If it’s that bad, I should come over, after all.”
Talulah blew a wisp of hair that’d fallen from the clip on top of her head away from her mouth. “No, I’ve got it. Really.” There was no way Debbie would survive the heat, not in her condition.
“But you must be feeling some pressure to get back to Seattle,” Debbie said. “You told me you have a line of people every night trying to get into the diner.”
“We do, but Paul’s there.” She couldn’t have taken off for a whole month in any prior year. In the beginning, their business had required too much time, energy and focus—from both of them. She’d come up with the concept and had the name, the website, the logo, the location and the recipes figured out when Paul decided to come on board to help with the capital, credit and muscle required to get the rest of the way. It’d been touch and go for a while, but the place was running smoothly now, following a familiar routine. They had employees they could trust, and with her partner managing the day-to-day details, she wasn’t too worried.
“He doesn’t resent you being gone so long?” Debbie asked.
“He has a family reunion in Iowa at the end of September. Then he’ll be hiking in Europe for three weeks with a couple of friends. So I’ll be returning the favor soon enough.”
“He gets to go to Europe while you have to spend your vacation in Coyote Canyon, attending a funeral and cleaning out a house that was built in the 1800s?”
Talulah didn’t mind the work. It was facing the past and all the people she hadn’t seen or heard from in years that would be difficult. “It’s not a big deal,” she insisted.
“Okay.” There was a slight pause. Then her sister said, “I hate to bring up a sensitive subject, but…what are you going to do when you see Charlie?”
“I don’t know.” She certainly wasn’t looking forward to it.
“It’d be a lot easier if he was married.”
Talulah agreed. If he had a wife, he’d be able to believe she’d saved him for the woman he was really supposed to marry. His family and friends would then be more likely to forgive her, too. But according to Jane, he wasn’t even seeing anyone, so she had no idea how he’d feel toward her. “I ran into Brant,” she volunteered, simply because she knew her sister would be interested.
“How’d he look?”
Too good for the emotional well-being of the women around him. But such an admission would never pass Talulah’s lips. She preferred not to acknowledge his incredible good looks. “Haven’t you seen him fairly recently?” She knew her sister came back to Coyote Canyon occasionally.
“Four or five years ago.”
“He probably hasn’t changed much since then.”
“He married?”
“No.”
“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me. I doubt he’ll ever settle down. What’d he say when he saw you?”
“Just gave me a hard time about Charlie.”
“When I was in high school, I was so disappointed I couldn’t get his attention. Now I’m glad he had no interest in me. He would only have broken my heart.”
“Probably,” Talulah agreed. But, truth be told, she felt sort of bad talking about Brant that way. It was a case of “the pot calling the kettle black,” as her aunt would’ve said. She’d broken her share of hearts, too, and possibly in worse ways, as he’d intimated. But she couldn’t seem to settle down. No matter how hard she tried to force the issue and be more like her sister—to do what her parents expected of her—she wound up having such terrible anxiety attacks she literally had to flee. Maybe Brant had the same problem when it came to making a lifelong commitment. Maybe he was just better at accepting his limitations.
The doorbell rang as her sister finished telling her about little Casey, her three-year-old niece, who’d gotten hold of a pair of scissors and cut her bangs off at the scalp. “That’s probably the woman from the church now,” Talulah said. “I need to go over the funeral with her. I’ll call you later, okay?”
Her sister said goodbye, and Talulah disconnected as she hurried up the narrow, creaking stairs. There was a woman standing on the stoop, all right. But before she pushed open the screen door—the regular door was already standing open because she’d been trying to catch even the slightest breeze—Talulah could see enough to know it wasn’t anyone from the church.
This woman had a cigarette in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.
New York Times bestselling author Brenda Novak has written over 60 novels. An eight-time Rita nominee, she’s won The National Reader’s Choice, The Bookseller’s Best and other awards. She runs Brenda Novak for the Cure, a charity that has raised more than $2.5 million for diabetes research (her youngest son has this disease). She considers herself lucky to be a mother of five and married to the love of her life. Visit Brenda at www.brendanovak.com.
Ivan Gallagher’s first and only attempt at love nearly cost him everything—his reputation, family, and even his freedom. Needing an outlet for his pent-up passion, the gruff foreman turns his beekeeping hobby into a successful business. Just when he’s on the verge of taking his liquid gold to the next level, a granted favor transforms his orderly life into a sticky mess.
Rory Snyder was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, but wealth couldn’t spare him from loss and heartache. Finding himself at the center of a dangerous media storm, the social media influencer seeks refuge at Redemption Ridge. Too bad the Viking-sized Ivan seems impervious to Rory’s charms because he could use a sexy distraction from the chaos threatening to ruin his life.
Predawn collisions in the hallway lead to revelations, explorations, and something far sweeter than honey. Soon, living in the moment becomes living for the moment. But for how long? A future seems impossible for the humble foreman and the fortunate son until a common nemesis makes Ivan and Rory realize what they truly stand to lose.
The Fortunate Son is book two in the Redemption Ridge series. Though each story features a different couple, reading the series in order is essential. The Fortunate Son contains mature themes and is intended for adults.
Content Warning: homophobia, underage alcohol addiction, and intentional overdosing are briefly discussed in this book, though no graphic descriptions are used.
The big mountain of muscle doth protest too loudly, even if it was presented as stomping away from the conversation. Rory wasn’t really into the whole daddy thing, but it was sure fun as hell to rile people up. His brother had cringed when he’d applied the label to Cash when the silver fox had headed in their direction, but Rory suspected Ivan’s reaction had nothing to do with disgust. The guy reminded him of a Viking with his broad shoulders, narrow waist, and thick thighs. He wore his auburn hair in a fade with closely shorn sides and longer strands on top. The Viking’s beard was a darker red, and Rory wanted to know what the rest of his body hair looked like. He’d bet the hunk was furry in all the right places too. Christ, the man was even sexier up close. Amber eyes the color of expensive whiskey assessed him in a way that made Rory feel vulnerable. He couldn’t have that and decided to regain the upper hand with outrageous flirting.
Ivan. His name, build, and dark scowl belonged to a conqueror as he’d said, but his soft voice belonged to someone gentler like a scholar. Would his touch be rough and firm or soft and teasing? A Viking-sexual such as he could hope for both. Fascinated by the dichotomy, Rory was eager to follow the man who held his fate at the ranch in the palm of his enormous hand, but first he turned his attention to the dark-haired hottie who’d entered the kitchen in time to overhear Ivan shouting his displeasure about having Rory foisted on him to settle a debt between Cash and Nick.
Dark brown eyes had studied Rory with unabashed curiosity. “Who are you?”
“I’m the favor.”
*****
Review:
I’ve chosen a lot of low angst stories lately, which just means that they are meant for a certain reader (or at least a reader in a certain mood). But readers who read Guys Like Himwon’t be surprised and, like the first book, there’s a lot more than just the mains involved. There are some complaints about that in reviews and I think that maybe we get used to connected but stand alone series, which this isn’t. Instead these are interconnected stories that focus on particular people in each book, but don’t end on a cliffhanger for the main two characters. Like the fact that there isn’t a lot of drama, I think that this means it won’t appeal to everyone. Personally, I loved getting attached to all the characters, not just the mains – I want all of them to be happy and content and finding the HEA they need. I’m look forward to seeing more of them, even if they have to share a book.
Here, though, we focus on Ivan (who I think pretty much everyone wanted to get to know better), a strong but silent type that just begs to be ruffled and whose secrets need to be exposed. His history just tugged at the heart strings and made him even more likable as a character. He’s obviously a nurturer who cares deeply but who’s also been hurt badly, and we see that even more so here.
Rory is the opposite of Ivan and the perfect match for him. He’s more in your face, sassy and vibrant. From the moment they meet, and Rory challenges him with his cheek, you just know they are going to be a hoot together. And he doesn’t disappoint.
Funny and steamy and emotional and fun, The Fortunate Son is an entertaining read. From the way Rory and Ivan make amends with their families to their obviously going to fail attempt at keeping things short-term, I adored their story. They have their struggles but when together they are so open, caring, and just absolutely loving that it made my heart melt. And I can’t forget the rest of the characters – I loved seeing more of the others on the ranch (especially Dylan and Harry), but as always Hope stole the show and a little more of my heart. I can’t wait to see what is coming in book 3 because there are more guys that need their story told.
*****
Series Info:
Join us for Book 1 in the Redemption Ridge Series with Guys Like Him
Kieran Sullivan is broken when he arrives at Redemption Ridge. A wrongful conviction and twenty months in lockup will do that to a man. The ranch is a place for second chances and fresh starts, but for him, it’s an opportunity to discover who set him up. Get in, get answers, and get out. The plan sounds easy enough until Kieran meets an equine specialist whose sunny smile could warm the coldest heart.
Finley Ashe is a sucker for bruised spirits and sad eyes. The horse whisperer and broken-boy magnet is six months into a hiatus from love when Kieran, the king of emotionally unavailable men, gets assigned to work under his supervision. Mutual attraction is gasoline on proximity’s flame, testing Finley’s resistance in new ways.
Priorities shift, shields come down, and truths get exposed. Will the inevitable combustion redeem Kieran and Finley or consume them?
Guys Like Him is book one in the Redemption Ridge series. Though each story features a different couple, reading the series in order is essential. Guys Like Him contains mature themes and is intended for adults.
Ever since she was a little girl, Aimee Nicole Walker entertained herself with stories that popped into her head. Now she gets paid to tell those stories to other people. She wears many titles—wife, mom, and animal lover are just a few of them. Her absolute favorite title is champion of the happily ever after. Love inspires everything she does, music keeps her sane, and coffee is the magic elixir that fuels her day.
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When a fake relationship feels a little too real…. I’m in a Tight Spot.
I’m not a nice guy. I’m too rude. Too gruff. I want to be left alone and stay in my lane as one of the best tight ends in the NFL. Too bad management has a sudden problem with my image and all the fines I’ve been racking up.
Now I’m told I need to settle down, shape up…or they’re shipping me out.
Except no playbook could have prepared me for the Hail Mary pass they threw at me:
Enter Hailey Parillo. My fake girlfriend. She’s the Sunshine to my Grump, the Sweet to my Sour and the Smile to my Scowl. As ridiculous as it is, she agrees to play this fake game with me, for something in return:
Lessons in seducing a man and losing her virginity.
I almost balk at the idea, but I’ve got a career I don’t want to lose in a city I don’t want to leave.
AND little did I know this is the most important game of my life.
I think that having read the other books in the series might have given me more of a feeling for why Dawson has a bad image because the guy we get to know isn’t that way at all. He’s a little burned by his family drama but he’s a stand-up guy with a good heart. With Hailey he’s sweet, takes her needs and wants into consideration, and supports her. All in all, he’s pretty awesome for a fake boyfriend.
Hailey sometimes comes across as clueless but I think she’s just a little sheltered and still kinda young. She’s the baby of the family and spent most of her adult years in a relationship with someone who managed her. Burned by her ex’s treatment, though, she’s now looking for something different, a bit wilder. And Dawson checks all her imaginary boxes and then some.
It’s obvious going in what the conflict is going to be between these too but I will say I was a little (just a smidge) surprised by the way things get resolved for Dawson. I’m pretty sure if I thought about it more I would have seen it coming, but I loved it anyway. And I adored his way of getting the HEA that he & Hailey deserved – once again showing that he has a big, loving heart.
Angsty, steamy, and all sorts of saucy & loving, I adored Hailey and Dawson together. I think I need to see what else Lynn’s been up to lately!
*****
Author Info:
Stacey Lynn likes her coffee with a dash of sugar, her heroes with a side of bossy, and her wine a deep shade of red.
The author of over thirty romance novels, many of which have been best-selling titles on Amazon, AppleBooks, and Barnes & Noble, she loves being able to turn her vivid imagination into a career that brings entertainment and joy to her readers. Focused on sports romance and emotional, small-town romance, she also loves stretching herself in different genres.
Born in Texas and raised in the Midwest, she now makes her home in North Carolina and loves all things Southern. Together with her ultimate tall, dark, and handsome hero, she has four children. Her life is a chaotic mess that fights with her Type-A, list-making, neurotically organized preferences and she wouldn’t have it any other way.
Peaches, Beaches, and a whole lot of misunderstanding…this hero has his work cut out for him! The local chocolatier is his exact opposite and someone he should stay away from, but he can’t. There’s no harm in a little fling, right? Readers who enjoy instalove and fun in the sun romance will love Son of a Peach by Claire Hastings, a steamy, small town, opposites attract, grumpy/sunshine romance.
Son of a Peach
Candy Cane Key
Man of the Month: August
by Claire Hastings
Blurb:
Peaches are my life.
I’m talking about the sweet, fuzzy fruit that represents my home state of Georgia—not the emoji that most people use for a different peach. If you know what I mean…
When there’s the chance to show off my peaches at a Christmas-themed island for the Peach on the Beach festival, it’s a no-brainer.
Then I arrive in Candy Cane Key.
Turns out, they aren’t celebrating my favorite fruit. Nope. This event is about that other type of peach.
To make matters worse, I can’t stop thinking about the event organizer, the local chocolatier—Tizzy. And that’s exactly what she’s worked my insides into.
The strawberry blonde wild child is my exact opposite in every way. Someone I know I should stay away from. Yet, I can’t.
There’s no harm in a little fling, right?
Son of a Peach is an opposites attract, insta-love, fun in the sun novella about an uptight horticulturist and a happy-go-lucky chocolatier with a guaranteed HEA.
“It’s not dirt,” I say, repeating the motions, “but I can see how this would be fun.”
“Dirt is not more fun than chocolate.”
I stop dead, chocolate fork held in midair, Oreo precariously perched on it. She cannot be serious. Then again, of course this free spirit of a woman would think that.
“Dirt is basis for all life. From dirt you came and to dirt you shall return,” I paraphrase. I can practically hear the preacher back home from Hickory Hills Baptist rolling his eyes for getting that piece of scripture wrong. The meaning is still there though.
“Maybe, but…chocolate gives life meaning,” she counters.
“Does it though?”
Dipping her finger into the bowl, she scoops out some of the melted goodness before running her finger along her lips, then sucks all the chocolate off. My dick surges and I swallow hard, wishing that were me she was licking.
Fuck, I need to get it together…
“It does. Besides, doing this with dirt is less fun.”
I don’t have time to ask, “doing what.” Tizzy’s too quick with the spatula, flicking it at me, sending chocolate flying. It’s warm as it hits my skin, catching me off guard. I scoff, unable to believe she just did that. Well, two can play this game.
Grabbing the fork, I mimic her movements, splattering chocolate across her face. Tizzy gasps, her smile wide. She clearly was not expecting me to retaliate. I laugh, enjoying her reaction and the playful fight that ensues. Back and forth we go, each one flinging bits of chocolate at each other. I can’t remember the last time I did anything like this. Certainly not with food. Mud, maybe. Mud fights were plentiful as children. Anton and I never passed up a chance to enjoy a good puddle. But it’s been years since we did that. Since I really let loose and played. And then I met Tizzy.
It’s time to up the ante though, the little splatter from the kitchen instruments no longer having the same effect. So I do what any man would do. I go big.
I dip my whole hand into the chocolate bowl, scooping up as much as I can. I hear Tizzy’s breath hitch, like she knows what’s coming. She doesn’t move though, the impish look on her face turning even more devilish the closer I get to her. I’ve wanted to lick this chocolate off her since the moment she spread it on her lips. Time to create my chance.
Only, physics has a different idea.
Stepping forward to close the distance between us, I slip. My legs wobble underneath me and I lunge forward, trying to keep my balance, and fall into Tizzy. The momentum sends us backward into the counter, which thankfully stops us from hitting the ground.
A second later, both of us trying to catch our breath, I pull back slightly, noticing the placement of my chocolate-covered hand.
Smack-dab on Tizzy’s boob.
Copyright 2023 Claire Hastings
*****
Author Info:
Claire Hastings is a walking, talking awkward moment. She loves Diet Coke, gummi bears, the beach, and books (obvs). When not reading she can usually be found hanging with friends at a soccer match or grabbing food (although she probably still has a book in her purse). She and her husband live in Atlanta.
Ansley thought she was done with small-town living for good until her life took an unexpected turn and sent her back to her old stomping grounds in Sugar Creek Falls.
Now, not only does she have to face the ghosts of her past, but also Matthew Tillman–her teenage crush turned biggest heartbreak.
But Ansley has a plan to settle the score and get over him for good, even if it means resorting to a little scheming.
As she gets closer to Matthew, however, old sparks reignite and she realizes that maybe, just maybe, he’s not the enemy she thought he was.
With betrayal and redemption on the line, will Ansley be able to stick to her plan, or will love prevail?
Love Schemes Clouded Dreams is a hate-to-love, small-town romance featuring a heroine with purpose and a loyal mechanic who needs more repair work than his customer’s vehicles.
Kimberly Readnour lives in the Midwest with her husband and a very snuggly cat.
Having a true passion for romance and HEA’s, she took the leap from the young adult genre to romance and never looked back.
Kimberly worked as a Registered Nurse for fifteen years before hanging up her stethoscope. When she isn’t running her own business, you can find her tucked away writing.
It is a truth universally acknowledged that Brodie Bishop is the worst.
Vivian Trent is desperate. Her family doesn’t approve of her life as a single mom and the small town of Austen still won’t accept her as one of their own four years later. Playing Elizabeth Bennet at the annual Jane Austen Festival is the perfect way to win over the locals and prove that she’s thriving. But when Austen’s favourite festival hero is replaced by his tattooed, metalhead brother, how is she supposed to achieve perfection with such a bad boy playing Mr. Darcy? He’s never read the book. He’s brash and unpolished. He’s… blond?!
You must allow me to tell you how ardently I dislike you.
Brodie’s used to being the town disappointment, so when Vivian turns her nose up at him, he’s not surprised. Hot librarian or not, she’s way too uptight. But once the festival gets underway, they see new sides of each other. When he finds out her dark secret, suddenly she’s much more endearing. She’s vulnerable, but strong. And the way she looks in that gown only blurs the lines between playing the part and falling for her for real.
But when her goal is within reach, can Vivian go off-book and choose Brodie, if it means risking everything she thought she wanted?
Cuppabeans was the only cafe in town, a cute little corner shop with a mint green and white striped awning out front, knotty pine framing inside, and a constant, thick miasma of warm, rich Arabica beans in the air.
Inhaling deeply as I stood in line, I tapped my foot and checked the time. It was fine. I still had a good cushion to get this done before I had to be at the library. I reached the front and ordered the largest size they had.
“Name?” the perky teenage server called over the morning din.
“Vivian,” I said.
“Lydia?” she asked.
I emphasized each syllable so she could at least read my lips. “Vivian.”
She nodded in a way that made my hopes plummet. I crossed my arms and stepped to the side to let the next person up. I blinked as I saw the man who’d stood behind me. He wore black head to toe, including a thick pair of leather cuffs at his wrists, the dark shade contrasting with his fair skin. The only hint of colour on him popped from the tattoos covering his forearms and the wheat blond of his overlong hair. He left his black aviators on as he put in his order and came to stand beside me, crossing one long leg over the other as he leaned back against the wall.
I watched him in the mirror on the opposite side of the cafe. He crossed his arms and appeared generally standoffish, the sharp line of his jaw ticking as he clenched it. I watched the muscle move as discreetly as I could. By the look of him, he was hardly a Prince Charming candidate, but I could still appreciate a nice jawline. I was only human, after all.
But then a smirk kicked up one corner of his mouth and he tipped his sunglasses down, revealing that his eyes were locked on mine in the mirror. My heart squeezed in surprise. Not only from the frantic feeling of being caught staring, but the shock of how incongruously dark brown his eyes were against that hair, stark in his only slightly sun-kissed face. They tilted up slightly at the outer corners, reminding me of a cat. He nudged the shades off his face and turned to me with a matching feline languor.
I flicked my eyes to the ground, face flaring with heat.
“Don’t like tattoos?” he asked, his voice a slightly gravelly tenor. By that grungy, heavy metal look, he’d probably spent his life screaming into a microphone.
“I wasn’t looking at your tattoos,” I said with a sharp shake of my head. Hopefully, my neck wasn’t going blotchy with embarrassment.
“Yeah?” he asked. In my periphery, I saw him lean closer. “What were you lookin’ at?”
I threw a desperate glance at the server and she held a cup up with a nod. Relief flooded me as I grabbed it and pivoted on my heel to escape this awkward encounter. But as I passed the man, I faltered, frowning down at the cup. It read Vanilla. “Oh, come on,” I grumbled under my breath.
A snort drew my eyes back up to the man. His dark eyes sparked with a mocking amusement. “Hey, at least she got the V right.”
I rolled my eyes and marched past him, ignoring the snicker that followed me out the door.
*****
Review:
I enjoyed the heck out of this one. Brodie is down right awesome – an honorable, sweet man wrapped up in a bad boy package. He’s so supportive of Vivian, validating her and her interests, and helping her when she needs it. But I will say the man has to have the patience of a saint to put up with her attitude, especially after the way he’s treated by everyone else. As she gets to know him, her attitude changes and she starts to appreciate him & support him as well, and It’s great to see, but I do wish we’d been given a little bit more resolution with his family. I’d have loved to see them supporting him and treating him well too. He’s a good man and we need to see more people recognize that as well.
Humorous, sizzling, and fun, The Wrong Darcy is a light-hearted, rom-com with that right touch of emotional turmoil to give it depth. Gynne is another new to me author and I’ll be looking forward to reading more from her.
*****
Author Info:
Robyn writes spicy contemporary romances about resilient women and memorable men. Having self-published numerous short romances over the years under different pen names, she is pleased to present her first full-length novel, THE WORST DARCY. When she’s not writing, you can find her catching up on her TBR pile, watching spooky movies, and woodburning crafts. She lives in the Greater Toronto Area with her husband and son.
Ready to fall for the ultimate player? Check out the latest sports romance by New York Times bestselling author Monica Murphy…
Playing to Win
The Players #3
by Monica Murphy
Blurb:
Ace Townsend is the biggest player on campus.
The sexy new quarterback on the football team.
I should probably mention he’s also a complete flirt. The life of the party wherever he goes.
Someone I should avoid at all costs.
It’s difficult though, when I’m on the social media crew for the football team and we’re out on the field during practice almost every day, filming them. On the sidelines at games. Hanging out with them at bars. The more I spend time with Ace, the more I’m drawn to him. The attraction is there, but it’s more than that. I actually like him. We have a connection, and he definitely feels it too.The problem?
I signed a contract when I started on the social media team with a ‘no dating athletes’ clause. They’re strictly off limits. If we get caught together? It’s cause for my immediate termination. I love my new job and don’t want to risk it, but I’m falling for Ace.
Hard.
We’re all for sneaking around and keeping our growing relationship secret, but it’s starting to wear on us. Ace is determined to win me at all costs, though he doesn’t want to be the reason I lose my job, but…
Maybe the two of us being together is worth the risk.
Monica Murphy is a New York Times, USA Today, and international bestselling romance author. Her books have been translated in almost a dozen languages and have sold over two million copies worldwide. Both a traditionally published and independently published author, she writes young adult, new adult and contemporary romance.
A native Californian, she lives on fourteen acres in the middle of nowhere with her husband, son, their goofy dog, and three cats. When she’s not writing, she’s thinking about writing. Or reading. Or binge watching something.
Grace Bianchi has always been drawn to men who are allergic to relationships. But when a mysterious man walks into her shop, saving her from a disaster, she finds herself wondering… is he different than the others?
Ryder Cooper is fumbling his way through life. He’s been lost since his wife passed away, leaving him to raise two young children.
But when he meets a beautiful tattoo artist with a zest for life, she makes him wonder…could he love again.
Never Too Soon is a journey of two broken hearts who believe in love as they mend their broken hearts, finding their happily ever after.
Ryder obviously loves his kids and has put them first the last few years. Needing a fresh start he packs them up to a new town. He’s been struggling a bit but hopefully the change of scenery will help them move forward.
I like Gracie. She’s sassy but with a vulnerability thanks to a troubling past relationship. Her family is also a hoot – loving and open, sometimes a little overwhelming in how they embrace others, but with enormous hearts.
The first part of the book is a lot dancing around each other for Ryder and Gracie, as they get to know each other and we get to know them. It’s low drama with a very realistic feel as they have to decide if that pull they felt on the first meeting is worth pursuing and whether a relationship will work in their lives. This kinda book isn’t going to be for everyone but I think it’ll be enjoyed by those that do.
*****
Author Info:
Chelle Bliss is the Wall Street Journal & USA Today bestselling author of Men of Inked Series and Misadventures of a City Girl.
She’s a full-time writer, time-waster extraordinaire, social media addict, coffee fiend, ex-high school history teacher, and currently lives near the beach even though she hates sand. Chelle loves spending time with her two cats, alpha boyfriend, and chatting with readers.