Welcome to MidWeek Tease, where authors share tempting snippets to tide you over till the weekend. A huge shout out to author Angelica Dawson for hosting our blog hop every week!
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4.5 Stars from Manic Readers!
Who will knuckle under first—
The war hero?
The spirited single mom?
Or the former high school bully who still hates them both?
Word count: 74,600
When war hero Michael Jarvis returns to his hometown on the shores of Lake Superior, he doesn’t plan to stay—he’s undercover, investigating a possible sex trafficking ring operating on the Great Lakes. But he does want to sample the pesky girl next door he always turned down—and it wouldn’t hurt if she’d clear up a few mysteries of her own along the way.
Successfully established as an interior house painter, Brenda Tower finally has her act together as a single mom—but it hangs by a thread, a secret she’ll guard with her life. The return of her youthful crush Michael Jarvis threatens to unravel everything.
Jealousy has inflamed Brett Hill’s hatred of Michael and Brenda for as long as he can remember. Revenge will be so sweet—and it will fit in perfectly with his high stakes game.
When the secrets break open, can Michael and Brenda find the courage to trust each other, or will revenge and betrayal triumph?
Michael tiptoed across the bare living room floor toward the white clad figure bouncing slightly to country music blaring on her stereo as she bobbed carefully up and down spraying beige paint along the opposite corner. The walls were decorated in differing shades of brown―wouldn’t have been his choice, but then the customer had different tastes.
When Brenda bent over to concentrate on the bottom of the wall, his concentration focused on a different bottom―hers. He grinned when he heard her singing along with Willie. Even through her thin protective mask, her voice rang clear.
She was in her element. She had rhythm. He loved to watch her when she didn’t know he was watching. She seemed happier than usual today. She still struck him as more up than down, more embracing of life than many. And today she was clearly up.
He couldn’t help but wish she was performing for him. It took every ounce of willpower not to move closer to hug her sexy bottom to his aching crotch. Damn, how sexy would she look kneeling on hands and knees naked on a bed sheet if she was this sexy garbed head to toe in painter coveralls?
He set his tool box down on the floor and coughed, trying not to startle her yet alert her to his presence.
She turned around, whipped off the painting mask, and smiled impishly. “Wondered how long you were going to take admiring my butt.”
“You knew I was here?”
“Of course I did. So who did you think I was putting on a show for? You let a draft in when you entered the kitchen.” She folded her arms across her abs. “So did you like what you saw?”
“Poetry in motion.”
She laughed softly. “Not original, but I’ll accept the compliment. So you like a tight ass?”
“If it’s yours.”
~o~ ~o~ ~o~
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