small town contemporary romance, geek romance, second chances, vacation romance, first loves, doctor, teacher, Christmas
Love in a Small Town, Pine Harbour Book 1
Six years. Two break ups. One divorce. They should be over each other.
small town military romance, soldier, cop, divorced couple, second chances, big family, summer romance, rural romance
Keep reading for samples from both of these books, and then dive in to the Wardham and Pine Harbour series! More standalone contemporary romances that will fill your heart with joy and bring that little spark you've been looking for.
AN EXCERPT FROM
WHAT ONCE WAS PERFECT
They sat like that for almost an hour. At one point, Kyle was convinced that she had fallen asleep, but he didn't want to risk losing the moment, and he couldn't see her face without shifting. Her head was tucked under his chin, and he didn't mind, because her hair smelled amazing, an intoxicating blend of honey and some kind of fruit. Thank god her ass was perched high on his thigh and her legs were bent over his other arm, because in the space beneath he had developed a brutal erection. He couldn't remember ever being this turned on by cuddling before, except maybe in those first few weeks of dating when they were still working on rounding all the bases.
He remembered every single day of that spring, the long string of her firsts: Laney slowly peeling off her t-shirt in the barn, then crossing her arms against her chest; her sliding across the bench in his truck, straddling him, grinding her jean-clad pussy against his cock; getting completely naked in a hotel room after the Science Society Formal Ball, wanting to punch a hole in the wall after their only condom broke. Laney had made that night worthwhile anyway, sliding his cock between their bodies, holding herself open, rubbing against the length of him until they both shattered apart. They'd spent the night twisted up in each other, and when Laney wrapped her warm little hand around him in the shower the next morning, he thought he'd died and gone to heaven. He returned the pleasure before check out, and two weeks later when he moved into his first apartment, they had an entire box of condoms at the ready.
She lifted her head and he was torn between wanting her to see where he had wandered in his mind, and hoping she'd return to her original position so he could keep smelling her hair like a pervert. He didn't dare think that she might be wandering around the same spots on memory lane, even when she pressed her forehead against his chin, then rubbed up his face until her lips connected with his jaw. Kyle stifled a groan and eased her legs down to the ground, freeing his arm to press between their bodies.
"Laney, sweetheart, that's not a good idea." It's brilliant, asshole, shut up. He could barely grind out the words. His body was not on board with being noble.
"Probably not." She pressed against his hand, flat against her upper chest, stretching her body to reconnect with his face, and the upper swell of her breast filled his palm. This time the groan was louder. "Tell me to stop."
"We're going to regret this." Freud would have a field day with what was going in his head. Baser instincts were definitely gaining traction.
"Probably. Tell me to stop." Her lips found the corner of his mouth, at an angle, and then her face turned again and they were sharing the barest of open mouth kisses, her bottom lip resting on his, pressing it down. Her eyes were wide, pupils dark and full of want. He didn't see any hesitation, only heat, and his resolve slipped. One kiss. He let her breath slip into his mouth, hot and moist, and he was lost, disoriented in a mixed fog of memories and unfulfilled fantasies.
With a slight jerk, his extended arm relaxed, allowing Laney to crawl back on his lap, straddling his hips this time, and she looked down at his erection with a smirk. "I knew you didn't want me to stop."
"Wanting you to stop and knowing you should are two different things. Hell no, I don't want you to stop." He dragged a ragged breath into his chest and ran his hands down the sides of her body, squeezing her hips, tracing over her thighs and then up again, harder this time, sliding his palms under her sweater and over the thin cotton tank top hiding underneath. "But I don't want you to hate me, either."
"I'm not an innocent college kid anymore, Kyle." She wiggled her hips, trying to slide closer to the bulge in his jeans. "I like sex. You make me think of sex. I'm all fired up from fighting. Let's go."
It should have been an ardour-dousing wakeup call, the casual offer of something that was once so special to her, to them. The higher-thinking part of his brain was protesting that something was wrong, that Laney couldn't possibly want a booty call.
But all Kyle could focus on was the easy confidence that she had gained, how she must have gained it, and his primal need to re-possess that which he had lost took over. He could hear raspy need in his voice and he didn't care. "Now it's your turn to tell me to stop, sweetheart."
AN EXCERPT FROM
LOVE IN A SMALL TOWN
He brought wine and a winning smile. She was in trouble.
"Nope. We're not opening that." She shook her head as he grinned and stepped inside. The temperature outside was dropping and he was wearing a leather jacket she hadn't seen before over jeans and a white t-shirt. He looked good. They didn't need to add alcohol to the mix for her to feel unsteady about what was going to come next.
And it wasn't them, together, in an orgasm-fest for the ages. What happened Friday morning could not be repeated. Not when she'd made up her mind about moving forward with her life in a way that didn't involve Rafe Minelli and his future conquests.
If he wore that jacket around town, there would be a lot of conquests in his near future. Hot damn.
"Then put it on your wine rack or something. I didn't want to come empty handed." He handed it over but didn't let go right away. He pressed the bottle into her hands and stared at her intently as if he was trying to unlock her secrets.
She was only hiding two things. One she was just trying to work up the courage to share. The other-that he still melted her from the inside out with his chocolate brown eyes and stupid dimple-was locked in the vault.
This wasn't the first time he'd come over since moving out, but it had been at least nine months. He'd taken the Christmas lights down and replaced the weather-stripping on the front door, and she'd given him a stiff thanks at the door. So he hadn't seen-
"You painted."
"Yeah." Because the warm yellow had reminded her too much of him.
"By yourself?" He turned around slowly in her living room, formerly their living room, an inscrutable look on his face.
"It was pretty easy," she muttered. He'd taken half the furniture, which left a lot of room to move stuff around and create bare walls.
"I like the beige." He was totally lying. Taupe, oatmeal, canvas … didn't matter what she called it, he'd never wanted any neutral colours in their space.
"Have you made any other changes?"
"Uhm, I tiled the backsplash in the kitchen." She pointed the way, which was stupid. They'd bought the house together. He knew where the kitchen was. Had made her coffee in it almost every morning for three years, even if he was gone before she woke up. Had perched her naked on the counter and knelt in front of her, licking-
"Looks good." He glanced back at her, his gaze lingering on her pink cheeks for a moment. "A lot of good memories in here, huh?"
He couldn't know what she was thinking, not exactly, but her breath caught in her throat nonetheless when he patted the counter. "Come here."
She shook her head in short, choppy movements. Nuh-uh. They needed space between them. Loads of it.
"I'm not going to bite, Liv." His voice was low and rough, like he was actually promising to bite her all over.
"I'm not so sure about that," she teased as lightly as she could.
He gave her a long, hard look before smiling ruefully. "Yeah, I wouldn't take that bet. So what's for dinner?"
And just like that, the mood shifted. "Beef stroganoff and a salad."
He kept his distance as she worked on the salad, flipping through a newsmagazine on the table. When she pulled a bottle of salad dressing out of the fridge, he moved to take it from her. She noticed the pile of opened mail at the same time he did and cursed under her breath.
"What's this?" He fingered the red flagged letter from the hydro company and she winced.
"It's nothing. I just forgot to pay that bill." She watched as he flipped the letter over and frowned.
"Three months in a row?" The incredulous look on his face told her he didn't buy her excuse. "It says here they're cutting off the power tomorrow."
"I paid it last Wednesday," she mumbled. "It's fine."