Starting over in a small town, Jean is determined to turn her wild lifestyle around and be the kind of mother she always wished she’d had. Since local bar owner and all round hottie, Eric Collins, is now determined to steer clear of her pregnant self, it should be easy. When she goes into labour during a snow storm and her car slides on some ice, it’s Eric who comes to the rescue.
There seems to be a bond between them now, but is it enough? And can Eric give up his manwhore ways to be the man Jean needs?
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I’d been tricked. Betrayed.
After Andre and Jean ate their lunch, we headed outside to
deal with her stuff. The cold wind suited my mood to perfection.
Talk about disappointed.
“Don’t lift that, it looks heavy,” I snapped.
Jean blinked. “It’s a pillow.”
“The world’s largest pillow ever. You can’t be too careful.”
My gaze roamed over her swollen middle. “You’re . . .”
“Pregnant?” she asked with a voice dripping poison and
sugar.
“Are you having trouble with the concept?”
“Absolutely not. I was just going to say huge, that’s all.”
She blew out an exasperated breath. “Thanks, Eric. That
makes me feel so much better.”
“I just . . .”
“Don’t bother.” The woman turned back to her sensible,
medium-sized SUV and got busy riffling through the contents. I was surprised
she’d been able to squeeze into the driver’s seat.
Boxes and stuff took up almost every inch inside the
vehicle. Each and every box seemed to have been neatly labeled with the
contents.
The woman took her organization seriously. She looked over
her shoulder. “You know, I can’t help noticing that
Eric-the-smooth-moving-flirt has been suddenly replaced by
Eric-the-awkward-jerk.”
“Well, you said you were single.” I folded my arms
defensively across my chest.
“I am.”
And then there was an awkward silence.
“Yeah, but . . . I mean, in your condition . . .” I fumbled
to a halt.
She turned, face all scrunched up. Like I was the one with
the problem.
“Just hop out of the way so I can grab some boxes,” I said,
voice gruff.
Still nothing from her. “It’s a second-story walk-up and you
have a lot of stuff to get up there. You should be taking it easy.” Hands on
hips, I tapped my black leather boot against the sidewalk, waiting her out.
“Jean, I’m not trying to insult you. It’s the truth.”
She swore quietly, going back to fussing with the contents
in the vehicle. I don’t think any woman has ever given me the silent treatment
quite this quickly. Usually I’m good for at least a couple of hours after
seeing them naked.
Man, I still couldn’t believe this was happening. God hated
me or something. Pregnant women and me were enema. Anathema. Whatever. Now that
I’d seen her out in the autumn light, however, she looked younger than I’d
first guessed. Despite her tired eyes, her skin was smooth, soft looking. She
was likely closer to her early twenties than mid.
“How old are you?” I asked.
“Why do you care?”
I shrugged one shoulder. “Just curious.”
“How old are you?”
“Nearly thirty.”
She sniffed. “I’m twenty-two.”
Young, like I’d thought. She was probably too immature for
me, anyway.
“Come on, Jean. Let
me get some of the boxes.”
Boyd ambled out of the Dive Bar, turning his head this way
and that, looking up and down the street. I raised my hand and he started over
in our direction. The big cook would make short work out of moving all this
stuff. Behind us, Andre and Nell came out of the tenants’ entrance to the Bird
Building. The place was a big brick building about a hundred years old. Just
past the door was an entryway with stairs leading up to the second floor,
followed by two empty shops, their windows covered in flyers about local
events. Concerts and parades and shit. They’d been vacant for a while,
unfortunately. Andre’s Guitar Den came next, then Pat’s tattoo parlor Inkaho,
and the Dive Bar on the corner.
“Everything’s good to go. Alex and I gave it a cleaning last
week just to be sure,” said Nell, smacking a kiss on Jean’s cheek.
“You’ll meet Alex later. She’s probably busy working or
something now. She’s sort of a shut-in.”
“You two didn’t have to do that,” said Jean. “Thank you.”
“Anytime.”
Andre leaned against the SUV. “Your furniture got delivered
yesterday too, so it’s all good to go.”
“Excellent,” said Jean. “I can’t wait to sleep in a decent
bed again. Road trips when you’re seven months’ pregnant kind of suck.”
“I bet.”
“Who’s minding the kitchen?” I asked.
“Lydia will text Boyd if they need something,” said Nell.
“We’re only going to be a few feet away from the place.”
I frowned.
“I own the kitchen, Eric. Not you,” she said. “You’re in
charge of the bar, that’s all.”
One of Jean’s eyebrows inched up slightly. So I might have
implied that I was the sole owner. Shit happened.
I crossed my arms. “Fine. No need to bite my head off.”
“My best online friend just moved to town. We’ve been
texting and skyping for months. She’s been an absolute rock for me through all
the nerves of being pregnant again,” said Nell. “Stop messing with my happy.”
And then there was an awkward silence. Great. If only there
was some way to get out of helping without looking like a raging asshole. The
possibility of anything happening between me and Jean had been buried six feet
deep, never to be spoken of again.
3.5 Stars
Eric Collins, one of the owners of The Dive bar, has always been known to his family and friends as the "manwhore." The guy who will hit on any woman that walks into the bar. They don't take him seriously and determined that he will stay a bachelor forever. But that's until the beautiful Jean walks into the bar.
Jean is starting over to make a new life for herself and her soon to be baby, Ada. And meeting the flirty Eric Collins was not in her plans to get her life together. But much to her surprise (and the surprise by his friends and family), Eric has stepped up for Jean and Ada. The attraction between Jean and Erik is hot and the bond Eric formed with baby Ada is nothing but sweet.
And when they decide to have a friends with benefits relationship, feelings start to get complicated. But can a playboy change his way?
Kylie is a New York Times and USA Today best-selling author. She was voted Australian Romance Writer of the year, 2013 & 2014, by the Australian Romance Writer’s Association and her books have been translated into eleven different languages. She is a long time fan of romance, rock music, and B-grade horror films. Based in Queensland, Australia with her two children and husband, she reads, writes and never dithers around on the internet. You can learn more about Kylie from http://www.kylie-scott.com/
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