A down-to-earth carpenter. A Prada loving personal shopper.
Her gaze dipped down my body, slow and languid, soaking me in. Something in me twitched to life, like a phantom limb reminding me hot blood once pumped through my veins. All my veins. My groin got heavy, heat flushing my thighs. Because she looked at me.I let that notion marinate and did my best to keep my brain on target. “If you plan on volunteering, show up at the construction site at 8:30 a.m. sharp. Nick will take you through the paces.”
“Will you be here?”
“Possibly.”
“Are you here every day?”
“Some.”
“Do you often answer questions with one word?”
“Depends.”
She tipped her head, those stunning eyes intent upon me. Suddenly, heading home for beers and pizza didn’t sound as appealing. I dug my boots deeper into the earth.
She swiped her tongue across her full bottom lip. “All right, tough guy. I’ll be here next week, volunteer ready, where you may or may not be, depending on if you do or do not decide to show up.”
Every word dripped with flirtatiousness, but I stayed quiet. The way I’d all but grunted at her so far, probably better to keep my mouth shut.
So we stood there—her waiting on me to speak, a skateboarder barreling down the road at our left. Me unsure why she was affecting me.
I missed being with a woman. Missed the slide of soft skin and wet mouths, and locking my girl in my arms for the night. But I’d sworn I’d do it right this time. Not rush in. Make sure I dated someone with depth and interests outside of making bank. Everything about this spitfire girl read narcissistic.
When our silence slipped into awkward, she fluttered her fingers in my face. “It’s been…interesting.”
I offered her a curt nod.
Chuckling to herself, she spun around, but her right heel wedged into the loose dirt. Those damn shoes were lethal. She sank an inch and teetered, but seemed to catch herself. Then her massive purse fell. The thick strap landed on her forearm, tipping the balance. She shot out her hand, struggling to stay upright.
I lunged for her, clasping her trim waist to hold her steady. And close. Too close. Not near enough for her to feel how I was thickening behind my zipper, but the air swelled. It dilated with feminine scents. Something sweet. Nice.
She smelled like chocolate.
My hands spanned her waist from behind, her curves above and below all woman. Hour glass, like a modern-day Marilyn Monroe. Jean Harlow. Mae West. Over the years, I’d watched every classic movie there was, wishing I could slip to a time when men danced and women sang and loyalty and love were valued over getting ahead. An old soul, my nana always said. Or a romantic. Or just plain trouble.
Now I had my hands on a dangerous beauty.
Kelly became one of those go-to and auto-buy authors after I read her Over the Top series in 2016. And she just keeps the excitement alive in her writing with Stud.
Kelly has this witty humor in her writing that keeps it from becoming too obnoxious and over the top. Ainsley and Owen have some of the best chemistry between two characters. I love how the story pans out and things come to fruition. I found myself laughing out loud at certain moments because I was caught up in the book – the book felt alive to me.
I won’t give any details of the book because, as with most books, it’s just better to go in blind only knowing that you are going to fall in love with the characters and their story. Speaking of characters, the secondary characters in this book were just as amazing. I love how Kelly prepares you for the next book without taking away from this one. Everything just flows right.
Ainsley and Owen will win you over from start to finish. Your heart will break for Owen because of his past and difficult divorce and you will find yourself connecting to Ainsley because of her previous relationship woes. It’s impossible to not relate and feel for these two. The banter between one another is perfect and their story is amazing.
Kelly has written another sweet and hilarious romance that I could not get enough of. Bring on the next book!!
HOSTED BY:
“Good Morning Malibu, it’s another beautiful day on the west coast! I’m Noely Clark, your host: and I’m in the market for love…”
Born in New York and raised in Southern California, Meghan has grown into a sassy, peanut butter eating, blonde haired swearing, animal hoarding lady. She is known to bust out and dance if “It’s Raining Men” starts beating through the air and heaven forbid you get a margarita in her, protect your legs because they may be humped.
A sweet, fun, and sexy stand-alone romance from New York Times bestselling author Aleatha Romig.
Aleatha Romig is a New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today bestselling author who lives in Indiana, USA. She grew up in Mishawaka, graduated from Indiana University, and is currently living south of Indianapolis. Aleatha has raised three children with her high school sweetheart and husband of nearly thirty years. Before she became a full-time author, she worked days as a dental hygienist and spent her nights writing. Now, when she’s not imagining mind-blowing twists and turns, she likes to spend her time a with her family and friends. Her other pastimes include reading and creating heroes/anti-heroes who haunt your dreams!