The Fourth of July is over, but for these summer lovers the fireworks have just begun.
An unexpected inheritance brings business consultant Christopher Gordon from Los Angeles to quaint Falk’s Bend. He’s carved a week from his demanding schedule to list his great-grandparents’ house for sale and explore his roots. However, disturbing family secrets and the sweet temptation of writer Margie Olsson derail his plans, challenging him to seize the elusive dream missing from his hectic life— love.
A recent brush with death shook Margie’s life, but not her dreams and she’s ready to move forward. Only, standing up to her loving, over-protective family isn’t easy. Helping Christopher explore the derelict mansion and unravel his grandmother’s mysterious past should be a harmless fun taste of independence. But when her experimental summer fling ignites into unexpected love, how can her small town dreams work with his big city life?
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Date Publishers: April 4, 2014
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Word Count: 86,710
Come fall in love at the river. Summertime Dream is available at:
Margie set the broom aside and planted hands on hips as she scanned the tidied porch. “Oh, yes, so much nicer already. Don’t you worry, it’s going to keep getting better.” She swung around, tipped up on her toes, and kissed him, quick and cheery.
Quick wasn’t enough.
More was his last intelligent thought as he pulled her close. He brought his mouth down on hers and took, sliding his hands over her hips to cup the perfect curves of her ass, and backed her against the wall beside the kitchen door. She lifted herself into him, wrapping her arms around his neck, soft breasts crushed against his chest, opening her mouth to his with a reckless abandon matching his own, giving hot and sweet.
Raining kisses down her throat, he savored the salt and sweet heat of her, breathing in the faint clean floral remnants of her shampoo. Sighing, she tilted her head to give him easier access to nibble and nip at that delicate sensitive skin and the tender lobe of her ear. Her pleasure laden moan, “Oh, nice,” blew away the last shred of his guilt and control.
Words failed under hungry strokes of hands, reduced to delighted groans and pleasured gasps. Needing more, needing her closer, he stroked his hands over the smooth skin of her thighs, and lifted her. His voice broke hoarsely. “Wrap your legs around me.”
Now she was the perfect height, the perfect fit, her body to his, caught between him and the wall, her soft to his hard. Gasps and laughter escaped them all through the crazy hot time-stopping kiss. Aching for her as they strained and rocked, burning up inside, he needed more. Not a single damned place in this house he could lay her down…
Wait, wait—He grabbed for sanity. What the hell was he doing?
Tearing his mouth from hers, he let Margie slide to her feet, uncomfortably aware of her exasperated whimper. He’d never lost control like that before. He slumped against the wall, propped away from her on palms and forehead against the siding, sweating and breathless. Maybe he should feel guilty, but mostly he felt incredible, shaken, and frustrated as hell.
“Sorry.” He shut his eyes and fought to calm his aching body. Sweat trickled over his temples. Far from trusting his legs enough yet to walk away, yet he needed to step away. Maybe if he counted backwards from a thousand…
“Sorry? I’m sorry it had to end. Holy moly, oh, that was crazy wonderful.” She traced her fingertips in a mesmerizing pattern over his back.
“I came on too strong. I—”
Wait. She was okay with him manhandling her like that? He opened his eyes and found her watching him, her gaze deep and dreamy and the smile on her kiss-bruised lips happily bemused.
She pressed a soft fingertip to his lips. “You were wonderful. That was the most incredible kiss ever, so don’t you dare apologize.”
Incredible, oh, yeah. Crazy wonderful was a good description. His chuckle ended in a groan. He doubted he’d ever been harder. “I really wish the water was on. I need a cold shower. Bad.” He really needed to walk away from her before he caved and did anything else stupid.
Like running his hand over her soft curves or caressing the perfect handful of her breast as he was doing right now.
Babett explains what's happening:
It’s a hot July morning and Christopher and Margie are beginning the clean-up work on the derelict old house he inherited in her town. The place a wreck inside and out. He only has a week to tackle the job before he has to leave and Margie has volunteered to help him. They’ve been dancing around their attraction to one another since first meeting and the first impetuous kiss that surprised them both two days ago.
The house that inspired Christopher’s house:
The theme song playing during the scene:
“Now I Know Why (They Call It Falling)” by Michael Franks. The beat and melody are a nice match for the story, Christopher likes jazz, and the lyrics suit how love took both Christopher and Margie by surprise.
Babette shares what she really loves about the scene:
I love this scene because it’s the first time in both their lives that Christopher and Margie have really let their passions loose. They’ve been in relationships before, but passion wasn’t part of the equation. Margie is the more outgoing, but she’s always been the good girl, the sheltered daughter and sister, choosing the safe and familiar. However, after the trauma in her life over the last year, she knows her life needs to change. She wants something completely different for the rest of her life than she did a year ago. Christopher has always been a gentleman, choosing responsibility over passion, thinks himself dogged and dull, and thinks he likes his tidy, well-planned hectic career. Their first kiss two days prior was spontaneous, but sweet and cautious. I love that here they’ve stopped thinking for a few minutes about right, wrong, time, plans, opinions, and responsibilities. Here, they’ve already fallen, and despite that they will fight it as the story moves along, they’re both more ready than they think to take some risks for love.
About the Author:
Babette James writes sweetly scorching contemporary romance and loves reading nail-biting tales with a satisfying happily ever after. When not dreaming up stories, she enjoys playing with new bread recipes and dabbling with paints. As a teacher, she loves encouraging new readers and writers as they discover their growing abilities. Her class cheers when it’s time for their spelling test! Born in New Jersey and raised in Southern California, she’s had a life-long love of the desert and going down the shore. Babette lives in New Jersey with her wonderfully patient husband and extremely spoiled cats.
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