Cover Designer: Cate Ashwood
James:
My assignment is simple: go to the Cape and seal the real estate deal for my most important client. No problem. I’m good at my job, I know how to close a sale, and this time won’t be any different.
Until I meet Sawyer, the sexy young bartender I accidentally kiss in the broom closet. Turns out, he’s one of the owners I’m here to negotiate with.
Okay, so that complicates things. As does the fact that he doesn’t want to sell. Or that we can’t keep our hands off each other despite being on opposite sides. And most of all… that I might be falling for him even though I know better. I’ve made the mistake of falling for a younger man before and I won’t do it again.
Sawyer:
For me, family is everything, and nothing represents ours more than the Sea Sprite, the motel that’s been in my family for eighty years. Sure, others (cough*James*cough) may describe it as rundown or derelict or in desperate need of a wrecking ball. But I call it our legacy.
I’ve got plans — big plans to renovate the motel back to its vintage glory. The only thing standing in my way is James Allen, the fancy-shmancy lawyer from New York with his adorable smile, jaw dropping assets, and his client’s millions of dollars.
James seems hellbent on destroying my future.
But maybe there’s a way for us to build a new one together…
Universal Link
“What are you doing?” I asked as I grabbed for the mop.
He looked up, slightly startled, but didn’t let go of the handle. “I thought I’d help.”
“Why?”
His expression turned a little sheepish. “I was enjoying hearing you talk about McBride and your plans.”
“Oh.” I didn’t quite know what to say to that.
He hesitated, and the same blush from before colored his cheeks. “And I wasn’t quite ready to say good night.”
“Oh.” This time my answer came out more like a breath than a sound. I became acutely aware in that moment how close we stood to one another. How if I slid my hand a few inches down the mop handle, my fingers would brush against his.
I shifted toward him, curious how he would react. He sucked in a breath, but he didn’t make any move toward me. Nor did he move away. I let my fingers trail down the wooden handle until they reached his. He shuddered slightly at the connection. So reactive, even at the simplest of touches. His eyes searched mine, and he looked overly stressed for such a hot moment.
That he was attracted to me was obvious. His pupils were already wide and black, his eyes half-lidded. His breathing came light and fast, and I could feel him straining toward me. But still, something held him back.
Well, I’d never been one to not go after something I wanted. “Then let’s not say good night yet,” I murmured, before closing the distance between us. I slid my fingers into that hair I’d been itching to touch all night and pulled him toward me.
As soon as my lips touched his, I was gone. The sweet, fruity taste of him, the expensive cologne scent of him, and the delicious, surprising height on him.
He let out a groan, low and deep in the back of his throat, and then he was kissing me back. There was nothing tentative about it. One hand went for the nape of my neck while the other slid down my back to grab my ass. He let out another groan, this one closer to a growl.
The sound of it—the almost painful pleasure threaded through it—did something to me. I couldn’t get enough of him. I kissed him harder, deeper, pulling his lower lip into my mouth. He ground against me, his cock rigid against my stomach.
I went for his jaw, trailing my lips down his neck. He let his head fall back, letting out a whispered “Yes.” I grinned at the catch in his breath, at the furious pace of his pulse under my tongue.
“What’s your name, sexy?” I asked with a growl, nipping at his collarbone with my teeth.
“James,” he said with an irresistible gasping sound. “You?”
“Sawyer,” I said, leaning back in to taste him again.
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After enjoying creative writing as a child, Lucy didn’t write her first novel until she was over 40 years old. Her debut novel, Borrowing Blue, was published in the autumn of 2016. Lucy has an English Literature degree from Vanderbilt University, but that doesn’t hold a candle to the years and years of staying up all night reading tantalizing novels on her own. She has three children, plays tennis, and hates folding laundry. While her husband is no shmoopy romance hero, he is very good at math, cooks a mean lasagne, has gorgeous eyes, looks hot in his business clothes, and makes her laugh every single day.
Lucy hopes you enjoy sexy heroes as much as she does. Happy reading!
Connect with Lucy:
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About Molly:
Molly Maddox is the pen name for a New York Times bestselling author who started writing at an early age because her older sister, Lucy Lennox, was a writer and Molly wanted to be like Lucy in all ways (she still does). When she’s not writing, Molly likes to cook, read, take pictures of her dog and cat cuddling, and finds an odd satisfaction in folding sheets so that the top sheet is indistinguishable from the bottom sheet.
She loves all things romance and is grateful every day she gets to write for a living.
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