A Little Christmas Cheer
Christmas is coming and all Catherine wants is to follow her dream to become a baker...
Blurb
Twelve years of living in
Ireland smoothed Beau’s rough edges, and hard work as a construction worker made
him a wealthy man. The call of his pack is stronger than he can resist though, and
he isn’t averse to returning to show his small home town in America what he’s
made of himself.
What he doesn’t anticipate is meeting the local pharmacist’s daughter - in
his wolf form. By day, he renovates the pharmacy, and tries to cajole the lush
assistant into having dinner with him. By night he watches Catherine bake her
fantastic creations and blossom through her art.
Sleeping on her bed each night in his wolf form isn’t exactly ideal, but
how does he tell her the wolf she’s come to love, is the man she lusts over?
Excerpt
Mrs. Timmins turned to
see what had caught Catherine’s attention. Her pointed chin turned upward to
meet the dip of her nose, which nearly fell into her wizened old mouth as it
opened and closed.
He seemed to have the
same effect on all women, no matter what age. He was probably used to it.
“Well now, this is
precisely what I mean, Catherine.” Mrs. Timmins smacked her lips together.
“Hello, young man. Don’t I know you?”
“Yes ma’am. Good to
see you looking so well Mrs. Timmins. You don’t look a day older than when I
last saw you.”
The harsh cackle took
Catherine by surprise, but Beau smiled at the old lady as he leaned his elbow
on the counter. She tried not to stare as his T-shirt pulled tight across his
chest, but a small whimper threatened to escape.
Mrs. Timmins wiped her
dry old lips with the back of her hand. “I remember you. You’re the middle
Devlin boy. The one who left to make his fortune.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“And did you?”
“I did.”
“Good. I never did
believe all those rumors about you being trash.”
Catherine almost
choked, but Mrs. Timmins hooted with laughter and patted Beau’s arm, pausing a
moment to give it a sly stroke.
With a regretful sigh,
she peered near-sighted into his face. “Are you married?”
“No ma’am, are you
proposing?”
The hawking laughter
drew Catherine’s gaze away from the flexed muscles of Beau’s arm to the old
lady who seemed to have difficulty breathing. Another side effect of the hunk’s
presence. He had the ability to stop a woman’s breath.
“Engaged?”
“No ma’am.”
“Girlfriend?”
“Nope.”
“Gay?”
It wasn’t deliberate,
but Catherine simply couldn’t stop uttering. “Definitely not!”
Heat washed over her
as they both stared at her. Beau’s slow smile made her want to hide under the
counter. She’d never had the ability to stop words blurting from her mouth
before her brain had the foresight to stop them.
She tried a casual
shrug, but from the deep laughter lines slashing into his cheeks, her awkward
jerk had been just that.
“There you go. I just
told Catherine how she needed a man to give her a real good…”
“Mrs. Timmins!”
“…time.”
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