Celeste Harte wished for a fairy tale romance, and Prince Charming turned out to be a cheating toad. Wiser now, she wished on this year’s birthday candles she’d find a man who would turn her life into a sizzling romance novel. Does such a man exist? When dangerously sexy Nick Dennis offers to turn her life around, she knows he could turn it upside down, but can she say no to this romantic stranger?
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Betty Jo Writes
Nick Dennis, a mystery writer who's gone where he wanted and done what he liked, has never had a serious relationship. Celeste Harte, a widow who's always met others' expectations, is looking for a romantic man. Nick is secretly trying to write a romance novel on a bet but can't get inside his heroine's head. She wants to become a free spirit. When he tells Celeste he doesn't understand women, she thinks he's joking. When he offers to turn her life around, she knows he can turn it upside down but can't resist.
Climbing down from the angled RV, she tapped a fingernail against her teeth. The right wheel had completely passed over the wooden beam, and the rear end of the trailer was in the trees. She shoved at the railroad tie with both hands. It wouldn’t budge. She turned away.
Ocean blue eyes set in a deeply tanned male face sparkled over the edge of the hammock on Lot E. Her neighbor was enjoying her predicament.
She glared. He raised his head and grinned. She shot him her most lethal glance. Lazy. Inconsiderate. Rude.
Turning away, she crouched beside the RV. Footsteps padded slowly toward her. She bent her head in pretended concentration.
Bare, strong feet stilled at her side. Tanned, dusty feet she could picture kicking a horse into motion on woodland trails. Following the light tracing of hair on muscled calves upward, her heart beat faster, imagining them gripped tightly against the horse’s flanks. A crescent-shaped scar on one bronzed knee, a scab on the other, gripped her attention momentarily. The ragged edge of cut-off jeans halted the ascent of her gaze.
“Trouble?” Her neighbor’s voice was laced with laughter.
Cheeks burning, she stuck her head under the RV. “Trouble” was standing next to her, making her imagination run rampant. “I’m trying to see if the…you-know…is still intact.”
His laughter erupted, sexy as hell. “Believe me,” he gulped between guffaws, “the you-know is still there.”