Excerpt!
For fuck’s sake.
He had no business checking out Elizabeth’s cousin.
“If you’ll excuse us, we’ll be on our way. Enjoy your walk,” she said before lifting her chin and flouncing past them. Milli glanced back over Summer’s shoulder, making eyes at Monty. The idiot dog whimpered when Luke tugged him in the opposite direction.
Seconds later, the sound of Summer’s screech filled the air. Luke and Monty hurried back down the path.
“Ow, ow, ow,” she cried as she hopped toward one of the benches spread out along the trail. “Son of a biscuit.”
Milli protested with a yelp when Summer nearly plopped down on top of her.
“What happened now?” Luke demanded.
“Go away!”
Shit.
Was she crying? He dropped to his haunches in front of her and grabbed her bare foot. A spiky ball from one of the sweet gum trees along the trail was embedded into the arch.
“This might hurt.”
“Don’t—ouch!”
He tossed the offending thing back into the brush. Both dogs followed it with their eyes but thankfully remained where they were. He rubbed his thumb over the bottom of her foot, applying pressure to where the thorn had entered to quell any bleeding. A long moment later, he lifted his gaze to her face. A pair of dilated pupils stared back at him. He froze when she bit her lip.
She came to her senses before he did.
“Are you trying to look up my dress?” she accused with that prim schoolmarm voice of hers.
He swore beneath his breath because, for a moment there, he was actually considering that very thing. And because he enjoyed pushing her buttons, he let her know.
“Summer Pearson, if I were going to look up your skirt, you’d know it. Because you would be begging me to do that and a whole hell of a lot more.”
The blush was back. This time not only on her cheeks but her neck and chest as well. She opened her mouth before quickly closing it again. He skimmed his palm up her calf before lifting her leg and draping her injured foot over the opposite knee.
“Sit. Stay,” he commanded the three of them before going to retrieve her missing flip-flop. When he returned, he crouched back down and slipped the star-studded thong onto her foot. “There you go, Cinderella. You’re ready for the ball.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
He lifted his head to meet her gaze. Her eyes held a look of sheer terror. For a split second, he wondered what he’d done now. But then he saw that Monty was resting his massive head on her thigh. It was the dog that frightened her.
“Monty, off.” The dog didn’t listen. “He’s worried about you.” He reached up to grab the dog by the collar, but she swatted his hand away.
“No.”
Then she cautiously laid her palm on top of Monty’s head. Sighing, the dog shoved in closer. Milli whined, wanting in on the action. Luke snatched her up instead.
“Nope. We’re going to finish your walk while these two get acquainted.”
He took the dog several yards down the path. After a few minutes of dawdling, Milli finally relieved herself, and the two returned to the bench. Summer and Monty hadn’t moved. Her hand stroked from the top of his head down to his shoulder blades. Monty’s eyes were closed, and his breathing was even, as though he were asleep. That was not a slither of jealousy tightening up Luke’s groin. He lifted Milli onto his lap and joined Summer on the bench.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she said softly, her eyes still trained on Monty. “Walking her is the only exercise I get in a day.”
Luke snorted. “First of all, this dog doesn’t walk. She stops and starts. You’re not going to get any real exercise that way. Secondly, you should never walk a dog in flip flops.”
She did lift her chin then, shooting him a look through her lush lashes. “I’ve never had a dog before. I didn’t know there were rules.”
Whoa. Was that actual flirtatious charm Summer was throwing his way? Apparently she could use those full lips of hers for something other than snark. He was surprised how much he liked it.
He shook his head to regroup. Summer was Elizabeth’s cousin.
Author bio:
USA Today bestselling author Tracy Solheim writes books with shirtless men on the cover. Some of them are actually best-sellers. The books, not the men. When she's not writing, she's practicing her curling. . . bottles of wine, that is. She's been known to cook dinner but no more than two nights in a row. Most days, she'd rather be reading, which to her is just necessary research. She lives in the suburbs of Atlanta with her husband and a neurotic Labrador retriever. Her two adult children visit but not often enough. (See the note above about cooking.) Check out her romantic suspense series featuring the Men of the Secret Service--shirtless, of course! See what she’s up to at www.tracysolheim.com
They say he who dares wins…
Luke Kessler is known for his daring play on the field and his carefully scripted life off it. The Growlers’ wide receiver has a strict rule of dating one carefully chosen woman per season, then letting her down gently. After all, his game is football, not love. That is until his dopey mutt falls for a French bulldog owned by a hot mess of a woman whose sassy mouth and mind-blowing curves have him fumbling his best laid plans.
After a humiliating concert performance played out in front of the world on social media, cellist Summer Pearson has sworn off a career in music. Forever. She’s hiding out with her grandparents in Milwaukee, licking her wounds and preparing for a predictable, if not boring, law career. The last person she needs challenging her life choices is a sexy, dog-rescuing jock who loves his grandma as much as he loves a good dare.
Especially when that same guy is dating her perfect cousin.
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USA Today bestselling author Tracy Solheim writes books with shirtless men on the cover. Some of them are actually best-sellers. The books, not the men. When she's not writing, she's practicing her curling. . . bottles of wine, that is. She's been known to cook dinner but no more than two nights in a row. Most days, she'd rather be reading, which to her is just necessary research. She lives in the suburbs of Atlanta with her husband and a neurotic Labrador retriever. Her two adult children visit but not often enough. (See the note above about cooking.) Check out her romantic suspense series featuring the Men of the Secret Service--shirtless, of course! See what she’s up to at www.tracysolheim.com
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