Ashton Davenport: Hot blonde. Old Money. Off-limits.
That’s how Mac McLaughlin sees her, anyway. And now that he’s enduring a temporary self-imposed exile in tiny Shelbyville, Texas, he’s seeing her way too often. Mac only wants to succeed as the contractor for the Lily Lake development in order to rebuild his reputation and return to Dallas, pronto. A sexy distraction like Ashton was not in the plans.
Mac McLaughlin: Hot builder. Cash poor. Hands-on.
Ashton kissed her trust fund goodbye and left her life as a society princess to prove she could make it on her own. Developing Lily Lake is her big chance, but it’s hard to stay focused working side-by-side with bossy, rough-around-the-edges Mac. Especially when he pulls off his shirt.
When the discovery of an endangered species derails the project, Mac can’t afford to stick around for a stalled job. His and Ashton’s explosive chemistry aside, he’s outta there…unless she can convince him that they just might be able to build something together.
Goodreads | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | iBooks
Excerpt Four – Brooke Blogs
Ashton’s mouth went dry. She couldn’t afford to get sued. Ironic since that was exactly what she’d done to Roxanne Eberly not long ago.
Mac, on the other hand, smiled. And that? It popped Ashton right in the heart.
That smile hinted at the little boy he’d probably once been. The kind who shoved frogs down girls’ shirts and shot out windows with BB guns. The kind who got away with all his mischief because of the way his lips tilted up slightly higher on the right side. The kind who made a girl want to shove that baseball cap off his head, run her fingers through his dark hair and…
So she was a little affected. So what? The man had a freaking fatal smile. No wonder he guarded it like a national treasure. Otherwise, it would have old ladies dropping their purses and young women dropping their panties.
“I’m sure you do, ma’am. But this lil’ ole dog?” Mac lowered his voice, and both Ashton and the woman leaned in to him. “He’s just a big ole coward.” He cocked a hip, got comfortable. As if he was just standing in the aisle shooting the shit with a friend. He sighed, deep and gusty. “It’s embarrassing really. He’s supposed to be a guard dog and—”
The woman pointed to Napoleon, who was steadily pulling the wings off a dozen maxi pads. “He’s a guard dog?”
Mac’s smile turned sheepish. “So you see the problem. He’s pretty much good for nothing. But my—” he hooked a thumb over his shoulder at Ashton, “—girlfriend just had to have him.”
“And you know how that is.”
By this time, the lady was nodding at Mac as though entranced. Ashton hunkered down and duck-walked toward Napoleon. But with her every waddle, he danced back.
“Napoleon—” she put plenty of sweetness in her low voice, “—be a good dog and bring Mommy the package.”
Her dog wheeled around and shot down the aisle, plastic and cotton flying behind him.
“What in the Sam Hill?” bellowed a man with a noticeable twang.
Ashton turned in time to see the store manager reach down to grab for Napoleon. But her dog juked left-right-left and made it around the manager’s legs. If this situation weren’t so horrible, it would be entertaining. Napoleon was fast.
“Ms. Davenport—” yes, definitely a bellow, “—what in the name of Pete do you think your dog is doing?”
Sam and Pete had nothing to do with this situation, but she was pretty sure Napoleon was outwitting them all. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll get him under control.”
“I can’t have this kind of nonsense in my store. I don’t care if he is a seeing-eye dog, he can’t scare folks and tear up merchandise. You realize you’ll have to pay…”
There it was, the money thing again. But Ashton put on her charm-donors-out-of-millions smile and said, “Absolutely. Let me just grab Napoleon and I’ll take care of everything.” Guess this meant she’d be putting the yogurt back in the dairy case. Maybe Kibble Kare was good with milk. At least she had a quart at home.
The manager was still spewing words as she pushed around him, scanned for a flash of fur close to the ground.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t where she spotted it. In fact, the fur was about waist-high and behind a curved glass window. Everything inside Ashton went cold then hot. Light then heavy. Napoleon hadn’t been kidding when he’d said he wanted his filet. Because there he was, inside the meat case. Maybe she could sneak back there and—
Miguel turned from where he was slicing a block of cheese, and by his triple take, Ashton was pretty sure he’d spotted Napoleon too. “Hey, get outta there.” The butcher advanced on Napoleon.
“Don’t,” she called. “He’ll just—” shit, “—try to get away.”
About the Author
Kelsey Browning writes sass kickin’ love stories and co-authors Southern cozy mysteries. She’s also a co-founder of Romance University blog, one of Writer’s Digest 101 Best Websites for Writers. Originally from a Texas town smaller than the ones she writes about, Kelsey has also lived in the Middle East and Los Angeles, proving she’s either adventurous or downright nuts. These days, she hangs out in northeast Georgia with Tech Guy, Smarty Boy, Bad Dog and Pharaoh, a (fingers crossed) future therapy dog.
November 16 – Excerpt One
November 17 – Excerpt Two
Just Contemporary Romance
November 18 – Excerpt Three
Ramblings From This Chick
November 19 – Excerpt Four
November 20 – Excerpt Five
November 21 – Excerpt Six
Herding Cats and Burning Soup
November 22 – Excerpt Seven
TBQ’s Book Palace
November 23 – Excerpt Eight
Doing Some Reading
November 24 – Excerpt Nine
Gonna Need More Books
336 total views, 1 views today