Meet Brady and Charlotte in this HGTV Inspired Romance by Jennifer Probst. This book is quick, sweet, and HOT! Read an excerpt & grab your copy ofSOMEHOW, SOME WAY today!
SOMEHOW, SOME WAY by Jennifer Probst
Charlie squeezed herself between Gage and Brady at the packed bar and ordered a Blue Moon. The upbeat music of trumpets and clave filled the air, revving up the crowd. Gage pushed a twenty dollar bill onto the bar, handing Brady his IPA, and motioned them toward a corner where they could take in the atmosphere and lean comfortably. Gage hooked his fingers through hers, making sure she wasn’t bumped or jostled, and she fought a smile. Too bad Tom couldn’t come tonight. He was stuck working late again at the restaurant, which was another reason Gage had been insistent on a night out. She loved taking turns dancing with both of them at the club, even though most assumed they were part of a ménage. At least, that’s what she told herself as the reason men never hit on her here.
Brady shot her a cool look at their clasped hands, then glanced away. Her skin prickled with awareness. Ever since they’d left the house, she hadn’t been able to rationalize the tension in the air. It was almost as if he was bothered by the idea of her and Gage being a couple. She hadn’t told him about Tom—it was none of his business and Gage’s call. But if he did believe they were together, why would he possibly care?
The image of that almost kiss slammed into her vision. She’d spent the last weeks burying the memory far underground, desperate to ignore the awareness between them. Instead, every day drove her a bit more mad.
His fingers sliding over hers when they adjusted a cabinet. The stretch of his jeans over that tight ass as he bent over. The dark, velvety pull of those sooty eyes as he gazed at her in moody silence, as if thinking things he didn’t want her to know.
Bad things.
She shivered and pressed closer to Gage. Gage drummed his fingers on her hip to the music, content to watch the crowd and drink his own beer. She snuck a sideways glance at Brady, still surprised he’d actually shown up. Even more surprising was his comfort level. She’d expected him to be overdressed, uptight, and a bit awkward.
Instead, he seemed to fit right in.
His jeans were dark-washed and snug. His charcoal button-down shirt had a fancy navy scroll at the cuffs and neck, but looked amazing with his dark hair and eyes. His shoes were red Italian leather that was probably ridiculously expensive and impossible to dance in, but again, they looked good on him. He cocked out his hip, beer casually hooked from his fingers as he took in the dancers. His scent drifted from his skin in an intoxicating flavor of spice and sea salt, reminding her of the special caramels she ordered by the box and only devoured on Valentine’s
Day for her own special present to herself.
Not that she wanted to devour him.
Absolutely not.
Charlie squeezed herself between Gage and Brady at the packed bar and ordered a Blue Moon. The upbeat music of trumpets and clave filled the air, revving up the crowd. Gage pushed a twenty dollar bill onto the bar, handing Brady his IPA, and motioned them toward a corner where they could take in the atmosphere and lean comfortably. Gage hooked his fingers through hers, making sure she wasn’t bumped or jostled, and she fought a smile. Too bad Tom couldn’t come tonight. He was stuck working late again at the restaurant, which was another reason Gage had been insistent on a night out. She loved taking turns dancing with both of them at the club, even though most assumed they were part of a ménage. At least, that’s what she told herself as the reason men never hit on her here.
Brady shot her a cool look at their clasped hands, then glanced away. Her skin prickled with awareness. Ever since they’d left the house, she hadn’t been able to rationalize the tension in the air. It was almost as if he was bothered by the idea of her and Gage being a couple. She hadn’t told him about Tom—it was none of his business and Gage’s call. But if he did believe they were together, why would he possibly care?
The image of that almost kiss slammed into her vision. She’d spent the last weeks burying the memory far underground, desperate to ignore the awareness between them. Instead, every day drove her a bit more mad.
His fingers sliding over hers when they adjusted a cabinet. The stretch of his jeans over that tight ass as he bent over. The dark, velvety pull of those sooty eyes as he gazed at her in moody silence, as if thinking things he didn’t want her to know.
Bad things.
She shivered and pressed closer to Gage. Gage drummed his fingers on her hip to the music, content to watch the crowd and drink his own beer. She snuck a sideways glance at Brady, still surprised he’d actually shown up. Even more surprising was his comfort level. She’d expected him to be overdressed, uptight, and a bit awkward.
Instead, he seemed to fit right in.
His jeans were dark-washed and snug. His charcoal button-down shirt had a fancy navy scroll at the cuffs and neck, but looked amazing with his dark hair and eyes. His shoes were red Italian leather that was probably ridiculously expensive and impossible to dance in, but again, they looked good on him. He cocked out his hip, beer casually hooked from his fingers as he took in the dancers. His scent drifted from his skin in an intoxicating flavor of spice and sea salt, reminding her of the special caramels she ordered by the box and only devoured on Valentine’s
Day for her own special present to herself.
Not that she wanted to devour him.
Absolutely not.
☆☆☆☆☆☆
MORE ABOUT SOMEHOW, SOME WAY
Bolivar Randy Heart (aka Brady) knows exactly what he wants next in life: the perfect wife. Raised in a strict traditional family household, he seeks a woman who is sweet, conservative, and eager to settle down. With his well-known protective and dominant streak, he needs a woman to offer him balance in a world where he relishes control.
Too bad the newly hired, gorgeous, rehab addict is blasting through all his preconceptions and wrecking his ideals…one nail at a time…
Charlotte Grayson knows who she is and refuses to apologize. Growing up poor made her appreciate the simple things in life, and her new job at Pierce Brothers Construction is perfect to help her carve out a career in renovating houses. When an opportunity to transform a dilapidated house in a dangerous neighborhood pops up, she goes in full throttle. Unfortunately, she’s forced to work with the firm’s sexy architect who’s driving her crazy with his archaic views on women.
Too bad he’s beginning to tempt her to take a chance on more than just work…one stroke at a time…
Somehow, some way, they need to work together to renovate a house without killing each other…or surrendering to the white-hot chemistry knocking at the front door.
Bolivar Randy Heart (aka Brady) knows exactly what he wants next in life: the perfect wife. Raised in a strict traditional family household, he seeks a woman who is sweet, conservative, and eager to settle down. With his well-known protective and dominant streak, he needs a woman to offer him balance in a world where he relishes control.
Too bad the newly hired, gorgeous, rehab addict is blasting through all his preconceptions and wrecking his ideals…one nail at a time…
Charlotte Grayson knows who she is and refuses to apologize. Growing up poor made her appreciate the simple things in life, and her new job at Pierce Brothers Construction is perfect to help her carve out a career in renovating houses. When an opportunity to transform a dilapidated house in a dangerous neighborhood pops up, she goes in full throttle. Unfortunately, she’s forced to work with the firm’s sexy architect who’s driving her crazy with his archaic views on women.
Too bad he’s beginning to tempt her to take a chance on more than just work…one stroke at a time…
Somehow, some way, they need to work together to renovate a house without killing each other…or surrendering to the white-hot chemistry knocking at the front door.
NOW LIVE & AVAILABLE
AT THE FOLLOWING RETAILERS
Amazon UK
☆☆☆☆☆☆
Jennifer Probst wrote her first book at twelve years old. She bound it in a folder, read it to her classmates, and hasn’t stopped writing since. She took a short hiatus to get married, get pregnant, buy a house, get pregnant again, pursue a master’s in English Literature, and rescue two shelter dogs. Now she is writing again.
She makes her home in Upstate New York with the whole crew. Her sons keep her active, stressed, joyous, and sad her house will never be truly clean.
She is the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal bestselling author of sexy and erotic contemporary romance. She was thrilled her book, The Marriage Bargain, was ranked #6 on Amazon's Best Books for 2012. She loves hearing from readers. Visit her website for updates on new releases and her street team at www.jenniferprobst.com.
Website: www.jenniferprobst.com
Facebook Fan Page: https://www.facebook.com/jenniferprobst.authorpage
Twitter: https://twitter.com/jenniferprobst
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2965489.Jennifer_Probst
She makes her home in Upstate New York with the whole crew. Her sons keep her active, stressed, joyous, and sad her house will never be truly clean.
She is the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal bestselling author of sexy and erotic contemporary romance. She was thrilled her book, The Marriage Bargain, was ranked #6 on Amazon's Best Books for 2012. She loves hearing from readers. Visit her website for updates on new releases and her street team at www.jenniferprobst.com.
Website: www.jenniferprobst.com
Facebook Fan Page: https://www.facebook.com/jenniferprobst.authorpage
Twitter: https://twitter.com/jenniferprobst
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2965489.Jennifer_Probst
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