"“So, let me make sure I’m clear. You’re looking for a financially stable man in his late thirties, early forties, with hobbies, smooth skin, rugged appeal, dark hair, who works out regularly, has no children, good relationship with his mum, who holds doors for others, doesn’t smack when he chews, and aspirations for even more?” He clapped his hands on his thighs, as if he was about to stand. “You, my dear, have impossibly high standards.”"
Description:
Published: March 1st, 2015
James is a has-been restaurateur from the UK, trying desperately to get himself out of the hole he’s dug for himself, while trying to figure out how to suddenly be a Dad for his brand-new tween-ager. He thinks he’s fixing things, or at least he’s making a mortgage payment, when he takes a job on a dating show as the Fixer Upper.
Margaret’s life is perfect. At least, that’s what she keeps telling herself. A recent divorcee, she can’t believe she’s turned into a cliché. When she makes a deal with her ever-helpful mother who will stop fixing her up with men, if Margaret will go on a dating show, she thinks she’s solved one of her problems.
What happens when the womanizing TV host meets the classy lady with OCD tendencies? Can they find what they need in each other?
EXCERPT
James watched as
she picked up her onion sword and dipped it into her mouth, extracting one and
swirling it around her mouth before taking a drink. He sipped on his scotch, churning it around
his mouth and letting it cleanse him as it went down his throat, bloomed in his
chest, and spread through his stomach.
He relished the burn.
The bartender came
over to wash some glasses near them, and after catching James’s eye, lowered to
whisper to him, “Are you her decoy?”
“What do you mean?”
“She’s in here
almost every night, beating men off, explaining why she doesn’t need to
actually have a boyfriend to not be interested.
I was just wondering if you were pretending to be her boyfriend, so she
wouldn’t get hit on. I’ve been tempted
to offer myself.”
“No, I’m not
pretending to be her boyfriend.” James
couldn’t hold back the grin at the image of Margaret fighting off potential
admirers.
“Are you really her
boyfriend?” The poor man’s eyes were
huge with disbelief, and James could completely understand. She did put off the cold fish vibe, but he
ached to change that.
“I can hear you two
idiots,” Margaret hissed at them.
Turning on the poor boy, “You are no longer my favorite. Where’s Marcy? She’s almost as good at my martini as you
are.”
“Sorry. She’s not in tonight, you’re stuck with
me.” He grinned at her boyishly, and
James watched her blush. Was she
flirting with the bartender? He left to
go help someone at the end of the bar, and James turned to her.
“You like him,
huh? Is he the one you want to take to
dinner?” Her lucky date for tonight
would get dinner out on the show.
“No! He’s a child!”
“That’s right. That pesky age thing.”
Before he could
elaborate, a sharp-dressed CEO type walked up to Margaret on her other
side. The man exuded money, from his
Armani to his Rolex. James watched with
interest.
“Hey there sweet
thing. Can I buy you another?”
James felt a
prickle of jealousy and again questioned himself. He had no claims on her, in fact, he was here
to help her get a date, in spite of what the producers said. Even so, he cheered inside his head when her
mouth shaped the word no, before snapping shut.
When she re-thought her response, his unease returned.
“Sure, why
not?” Her voice was blithe, but James
saw the underlying tension and resignation to the simple statement, like she
knew exactly what was going to happen next, and dreaded it, participating only
to please the show.
As soon as the
bartender brought another drink for the two, the man bent down close to
Margaret’s ear. James didn’t hear all of
it, but he managed to see red darken his Maggie’s chest and knew exactly what
that meant, he’d done it to her himself.
Before he could react, she’d thrown her drink in the CEO’s face, who
took it all with aplomb.
Removing his
handkerchief from his breast pocket, the man wiped his face before smirking and
leaving. No more words were spoken.
“What the hell did
he say to you?”
Angry tears sounded
in her voice, and sudden understanding dawned on him. Men were fucking pigs. “He told me to come back to his place so he
could stick his [...]—“
“Never mind. Forget I asked.” Her eyes shined at him, as if tears were just
under the surface, and James wondered if it was always like this for beautiful
women with no self-esteem. Margaret knew
she was pretty, but didn’t give herself enough credit for the rest. That’s why she kept her standards so high, so
she didn’t get hurt. And the men who
came on to her were total assholes.
James knew she’d only allowed the wanker to buy her drink because he’d
told her to lower her standards. If she
kept up with her normal routine, that man wouldn’t have stood there more than
thirty seconds.
James held out his
arms, trying to be comforting, and to his surprise, Margaret sort of slumped
towards him. He took a step forward and
enfolded her in his arms. It was similar
to last night’s embrace, except she wasn’t trying to beat him senseless. Instead, she was just… limp.
Stroking her back,
feeling her warmth through the thin material of her dress, he inhaled the scent
of her shampoo, lavender and vanilla.
Scents that should remind him of his gram, only on Maggie, they made him
want her naked.
He was such a
fucking tool, no different from the others.
She relaxed in his
embrace, her own arms coming around his waist and squeezing him, pressing
herself against him. Something welled up
inside, something a little foreign, something that surprised him. He realized he cared for her, and not just
enough to sleep with her. James cared
for Margaret enough to want to know what happened to them after the sex.
“We should just
go. I’m hopeless.” She sniffed into his chest, and he could
barely hear her. “I’ve thrown my drink
at one guy, and I’m hugging on you. Nobody’s
going to want to go out with me now.”
“I do.” His words shocked him, but no less for the
meaning behind him. He did want to take her out. He wanted to make her feel desired, undo all
his words of yesterday and the day before.
He regretted them, immensely, and didn’t know what to do to take them
back.
She looked up at
him, her brow furrowed with confusion, but didn’t take a step back. Still holding her with one arm, he reached
his other to smooth the wrinkles on her forehead, and shrugged, murmuring,
“Masochistic tendencies.”
Her lips curled
into a smile, and she laughed. He’d
never heard the clear tinkling sound resonating from her before, and suddenly
he lost all of his senses. Something
changed in both of them. As abruptly as
she started laughing, she stopped, and James watched as her gaze focused on his
lips. Maggie’s tongue snaked out and
stroked her bottom lip, leaving it sparkling wet, preparing it for him. James was lost. He wasn’t sure if she raised herself, or if
he lowered his face, but in the next second, their lips were on each other’s.
About the author:
Anne has written her entire life and has the boxes of angst-filled journals and poetry to prove it. She’s been writing for public consumption for the last four years. Currently she is writing two romance series. In Stories of Serendipity, she explores real people living real lives in small town Texas in a contemporary romance setting. In The Four Winds, she chronicles God’s four closest archangels, Uriel, Gabriel, Raphael, and Michael, falling in love and becoming human. She lives in rural East Texas with her husband and children in her own private oasis, where she prides herself in her complete lack of social skills, choosing instead to live with the people inside her head.
Author's Giveaway
a Rafflecopter giveaway
No comments:
Post a Comment