The Good Ones (Happily Ever After, Band 1) - Softcover

McKinlay, Jenn

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0451492439 ISBN 13: 9780451492432

Verlag: Berkley, 2019

Inhaltsangabe

A romance bookstore owner finds her own happily ever after with a single dad in a new romance series from the New York Times bestselling author of Every Dog Has His Day.

Ryder Copeland is an accomplished architect and one heck of a father...not to mention tall and sexy. He's everything a hero should be, and Lord knows, Maisy Kelly has read enough of her great-aunt Eloise's romance novels to recognize one when she sees one. But like all fairy tales, Maisy can't help but wonder if this Prince Charming is too good to be true...

Ryder is drawn to the shy, curly haired professor who hires him to convert the Victorian house she's inherited from her aunt into a romance bookstore. Attracted to a woman for the first time since his divorce, Ryder finds himself wishing for a future with Maisy that he knows is impossible. Ryder has never wavered from his plan to leave the small town of Fairdale, North Carolina, so he can give his daughter the life she deserves. But suddenly he's not so sure. And the closer he gets to Maisy, the harder it's going to be to walk away...

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Jenn McKinlay is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of Every Dog Has His Day, Barking Up the Wrong Tree, About a Dog, the Library Lover's mysteries, the Cupcake Bakery mysteries, and the Hat Shop mysteries.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

***This excerpt is from an advance uncorrected copy proof***

Copyright © 2018 Jenn McKinlay

Chapter One

When Jake took off his cowboy hat and pulled her close, Clare wrapped her arms around him and the two became one. When they kissed she knew they were making each other a promise for today, tomorrow, and forever. Clare sighed. For the first time in her life, she knew that no matter what happened, this man, who was her partner and her best friend, would be by her side. For all time.

Maisy Kelly closed the book, One Last Chance, pressed it to her chest, and sighed. Jake Sinclair, the perfect man—why did he reside only in the pages of a book? It wasn’t fair. She was twenty-nine and none of the men she’d ever dated had been even remotely as caring or charming as author Destiny Swann’s swoon worthy hero Jake Sinclair.

Knock knock knock.

Maisy blinked. Someone was at the door. No, no, no. She had a book hangover and she didn’t want to deal with the world right now. If forced to, she might curl up in a fetal position right there on the floor and never move.

Knock knock knock.

They weren’t going away. Maisy rose from where she’d been seated on the bottom step of the stairs. In theory, she was supposed to be cleaning out her great-aunt Eloise’s house; in reality she was binge-reading Auntie El’s hoarder’s trove of romance novels. It wasn’t making the task, which was heartbreaking to begin with, any easier.

Knock knock knock.

“All right, all right,” Maisy grumbled. “I’m coming.”

She strode to the door and yanked it open. Probably, if she had bothered to glance through the peephole or one of the long windows beside the door, she would have been prepared, but she hadn’t and she wasn’t.

Standing on her front step, looking impossibly handsome and imposing, was a cowboy. Maisy glanced down at her book. On the cover was the artist’s rendering of Jake Sinclair, in jeans and a white T‑shirt, sitting on a picnic table in the middle of a pasture, with a cowboy hat tipped carelessly over his brow. Maisy could practically hear the cattle mooing in the background.

She glanced back up. Jeans, white shirt, and a cowboy hat. This guy had it all going on, except where the artist had left Jake’s face in shadow and not clearly defined, this guy was a full-on 3‑D HD of hotness, with full lips, faint stubble on his chin, and quite possibly the bluest eyes Maisy had ever seen this side of the sky. She had a sudden urge to poke him with her pointer finger to see if he was real.

“Mornin’, miss,” the man drawled—drawled!

Miss? Huh, she hadn’t been called miss since she’d started teaching at Fairdale University. Why would he . . . ? She glanced down.

She was wearing her favorite floral Converse All Stars, ripped-up denim shorts, and her old Fairdale University sweatshirt, the one with the sleeves that hung down past her hands, oh, and she had on no makeup and her hair was held back by an enormous pink headband. She probably looked like one of her college students, possibly a freshman.

In that brief shining moment, she was certain if it were possible to die of embarrassment, she would expire in three . . . two . . . one. She gave it a second. Nope, still standing. Damn it.

“Listen, I’m sorry, sir, but whatever you’re selling, I’m not interested—” she began but he cut her off.

“Oh, I’m not selling anything,” he said. He looked bewildered. “This is 323 Willow Lane, right?”

“Yes, it is. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back—” She let her voice trail off, hoping he’d get the hint. He didn’t.

“I have an appointment with a Ms. Kelly,” he said. “Or Mrs. Kelly, I’m not sure.”

Maisy closed one eye and squinted at him. She usually reserved this trick for her English 101 students when they asked if they could make up the final exam because they’d had a more pressing engagement, like recovering from their hangover, but she was more than willing to use it on tall, dark, and good-looking here.

She knew she didn’t have any appointments today. That was why she’d indulged herself in a good long reading sesh. This guy was probably a hustler, trying to con her to buy some property insurance or new windows. Ever since she’d inherited this monster of a house from Auntie El she’d had all sorts of scammers climbing out of the cracks in the sidewalk, trying to get her to refinance or buy a security system. It was exhausting.

The man met her squinty stare with one of his own. He shrinkled up one eye and mimicked her look of disbelief right down to the small lip curl. The nerve! Then she saw the twinkle in his one open eye, and she burst out laughing.

He grinned at her and her ire diminished as she noted the cowboy had a sense of humor. Okay, that was a bonus point for him. She decided to give him a break and at least take his name and number. She could call him later and decline whatever it was he was hawking.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “What was your appointment with Ms. Kelly about?”

“It’s about the house, actually,” he said.

Uh-huh. Maisy would bet her front teeth he was going to pitch all the reasons why she should take out a line of credit now.

“My name’s Ryder Copeland,” he said. “I’m a restoration architect, and you are?”

“Ryder Copeland?” Maisy’s eyes went wide. So much for keeping her teeth. “But our appointment isn’t until tomorrow, you know, Tuesday.”

“Today is Tuesday,” he said.

“No, it isn’t,” she said. “It’s Monday.”

“Sorry, it really is Tuesday. Wait,” he said. “Our appointment? You’re Maisy Kelly?”

“Uh.” Maisy stalled. What to do. What to do. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and gave it a quick glance. There was a notification waiting. It said she had an appointment. Right now, in fact, with a Ryder Copeland. She checked the date. Today was Tuesday.

She glanced back up at him. He was looking at her in surprise, as if he didn’t believe she was the owner of this house. She supposed she could fib and say Ms. Kelly was out but he’d figure that out the next time they met. Plus, she was a horrible liar. She blushed and stammered whenever she tried to prevaricate. Truly, it was just embarrassing. Finally, she nodded and whispered, “I’m Ms. Kelly.”

“Pardon?” The man pushed back his hat and leaned in, although he didn’t step any closer, probably knowing that at his height, she guessed him to be about six feet tall, he would tower over her and might scare her back inside the house like a rabbit jumping back into its hole.

Maisy cleared her throat and pushed her square-framed glasses up on her nose. Then she repeated, “I’m Ms. Kelly.”

There. She used her professor voice. That’d tell him who was boss. Sure, that was why he looked perplexed as he studied her. She tipped her chin up, daring him to say anything about her youthful appearance or general slovenliness.

“It’s nice to meet you.” His smile was slow but when it came, it was wide and warm and genuine. He didn’t look put out that she’d tried to give him the bum’s rush. He also did not look like an architect. He looked like a man who’d be more at home on a horse, herding cattle, than drawing up designs for her old...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Berkley
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2019
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 0451492439
• ISBN 13: 9780451492432
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 336
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: BERKLEY; https://www.penguin.com/?s=BERKLEY; ; Unit 2 Limavady Business Park; Limavady; County Londonderry; BT49 0HR; Vereinigtes Königreich
• Verantwortliche Person: Nicht verfügbar