Single mom Jade Moran isn’t ready for any big changes in either her horrible ’70s kitchen or her romantic life. Her ex did a number on her, and she isn’t interested in getting hurt again. But when she meets a super-hot contractor, she wonders if avocado appliances are on the way out and romance is on the way in.
Max Gianopoulis doesn’t have a clue why he’s so enchanted by Jade. She’s almost as big a mess as her kitchen, and he’s a guy who likes to keep things simple. He let himself get involved with a previous client, and he’s not interested in repeating the experience. But Jade has turned up the flirty heat—and he can’t keep his hands off her. With everything moving too fast and coming too easy, Jade’s insecurities kick into high gear. She’s not sure she can trust another man again—and she definitely doesn’t believe in magic.
Max grinned a self-satisfied sort of smile and without letting go of her hand, pulled two beers out of a cooler sitting behind him, stocked with ice. He hooked them one by one against the bottle opener mounted on its side and handed one to her.
She took this as an encouraging sign that things had progressed as far as they were going to for a while. Neither one of them had a free hand, so how much trouble could they get into? She shook her head, not wanting her brain to explore the possibilities.
But as the minutes passed with adrenaline pumping continuously through her veins, keeping her in a state of constant, edgy awareness, she came to an unexpected decision. There was a way to avoid all this angsty uncertainty. Okay, maybe “repressed lust” was the spot-on terminology.
She didn’t have to wait and wonder and, yes, kind of hope he eventually made a move. She could do it.
One kiss didn’t mean anything. Okay, one more kiss. The first one had been an anomaly—unexpected by both of them—and she’d survived it with no adverse effects. More or less. So, beyond being a huge tension reliever—she hoped—what was one more? Right now she was part consenting adult, part nervous wreck, and the combination was making her twitchy. She wouldn’t be able to relax until it was done.
Setting her beer in the grass, she closed her eyes, said a quick prayer to whoever might be the patron saint of awkward situations, and, in one semi-smooth move, leaned into him, fisted her free hand in his shirt, and tugged him toward her. Staring into his startled eyes, her breath caught, and she lost her nerve.
As the moment hung between them, the scent of popcorn and dark beer and spring grass crowding in, he didn’t move, waiting. Gathering her courage, she slowly dipped her mouth to his, feeling that first velvet touch, and then, quickly, the seductive slide of urgent lips and tangled tongues. Jade let out a breathy sigh, overwhelmed with relief to have finally reached this moment.
This time, there was no question of there being any food interference—no kitchen witchery. The fig jam surfaced in her memory, and she quashed it. Conditions weren’t met, directions weren’t followed, and results weren’t guaranteed.
This was just the two of them. Desire shuddered through her, and as his scruff rasped against her skin, she flexed her fingers against his shoulders, wanting more. Max nudged her onto his lap, her legs straddling his, and shifted his hand to her hip, where it sent fresh waves of urgency coursing through her. Her blood was thumping thickly through her veins, a steady, patient encouragement.
For several long minutes, they were consumed with the exploration of each other’s lips and tongues—everything else could wait. But eventually Jade pulled away, panting, and fumbled out of her sweatshirt before tugging his shirt away. For one truly decadent moment, she let herself just stare at him—at the sheer beauty of all those muscles finally uncovered. Then Max yanked the pillows from behind him, and she fell over him as he tipped back, eagerly pressing herself into the heat of his chest as the evening breeze skimmed over the bare skin of her arms and the spot where her T-shirt was inching accommodatingly up.
The movie had obviously reached a point where heroics were being scored with heart-pounding action music. Jade preferred to imagine the soundtrack was for her. It had taken some serious heroics to dredge up the gumption for this moment, and she had every intention of reveling in it.
Alyssa is a Texas girl who dreams of British accents. She currently lives between Houston and Galveston with her husband, two sons, and their adventure dogs, Indiana Jones and Short Round. She does her writing with an ice-cold can of Dr. Pepper, or when she's feeling spicy, a handful of Hot Tamales. She fangirls over Masterpiece Mystery, good Tex-Mex, and boxed chocolates. And, of course, books.
