Hey y'all! I've actually already read two of these wonderful book and have really enjoyed them! Hope y'all do too. Don't forget to enter the lovely little giveaway in the post!
First up, we have
SWEET ON YOU by Laura Drake.
Add it to goodreads!
Excerpt (This is one of my favorite scenes!!)
Katya looked around the restaurant. Surrounded by
trees outside, the interior was exposed timber and glass, giving The Wild Side
the feel of a hunting lodge in the woods. The fieldstone fireplace with its
cheery gas log fire and the trophy animal heads on the wall carried out the
theme.
“Well? What do you think?” Cam smiled at her from across the
linen-covered table, the dimple in his cheek deepening.
“That gazelle looks pissed. I think he wants his body back.” The
unblinking stare of the animals on the walls gave her the willies, so she kept
her eyes on Cam. Well, maybe that wasn’t the only reason. His royal blue
Western-cut shirt showed off his washed-blue eyes. The candlelight fractured in
them, and she had a hard time looking anywhere else. He’d taken off his hat
when he sat down, but it left a mark in his short, hollow-gold hair. She took a
sip of her white wine to cool off. God, if he were on the menu, this place
would be overrun with women.
He chuckled, and when the waiter walked over with menus, he held up
a hand. “Will you trust me to order?” He gave her a one-sided smile, an eyebrow
raised in challenge.
“I guess I’ll trust you that far.”
Not much farther though. She
had no doubt that smile had separated dozens of women from their panties. Don’t forget, you don’t belong here. Why
did she have to keep reminding herself of that lately?
He ordered something called the Hunter’s Feast for Two. When the
waiter walked away, Cam turned his attention back to her. “You drive a hard
bargain, Ms. Smith. It cost me dearly to get you sitting across the table from
me. Are you sure you aren’t a horse trader on the side?”
She snorted. “I should have warned you, it’s in my blood. My
great-great grandfather made enough money trading horses to bring his family to
America.”
“Literally?”
Might as well get it out in the open. In spite of the modern push
to accept “cultural diversity,” there was still a lot of prejudice against her
kind. “I don’t just dress Gypsy, Cam. I am Gypsy.”
“No kidding?” The touch of his regard settled on her. “I know so
little about you. Where did you grow up?”
Well, he’d answered her questions. No harm in answering a few
benign ones of his. “In DC. But my summers I spent with my Gypsy family, in
Chicago.”
“What was that like?”
“It was heaven. I’m an only child. But in Chicago, my huge extended
family took me in every summer and folded me into the clan.” She smiled, seeing
Grand’s apartment in her mind. “It was like stepping into another world. Like I
lived two different lives.”
“When did you join the army?”
“After nine/eleven. A lot of people joined then.”
“I wouldn’t have guessed you for a soldier, but once I knew it,
lots of things made sense. Did you like it?”
“I loved it. In a way, it was like Chicago. Another kind of family.
We rely on each other under hard times and stressful circumstances. It forges a
strong bond.”
“You miss it.”
Once again, his eyes made her nervous, seeing too much. “Something
happened over there, didn’t it?”
“I miss it.”
The waiter brought their salads, breaking the pull of his gaze.
That gaze made her want to talk, to spill her dark story all over the pristine
tablecloth, staining everything.
She lifted her fork. “Tell me about your family. Where are you
from?”
They chatted about safe subjects until their meal arrived; a huge
platter of unrecognizable meat, without a vegetable in sight. Unless fried
potatoes qualified.
He looked it over. “I’m torn. I’m afraid if I tell you what’s here,
you won’t eat it, and you’d miss out on some great food. But I don’t want to
ambush you either. So you tell me. Do you want to know?”
She picked up her fork, stabbed a deep-fried Rocky Mountain oyster,
and popped it in her mouth.
His eyes got big. “Wait, that’s a—”
“Cow testicle, I know.” She licked her lips. “I have to say, it’s
better than sheep, but not as good as camel.” She glanced around for the
waiter, then back to him. “Do you think they have hot sauce?”
His eyes got bigger. “I think I’m in love,” he breathed.
Excerpt ( I hope y'all love Tante Lulu as must as I do)
Finally he could slip out of his
jacket. His cattle’s blackand-white coats might keep them warm in winter and
cool in summer, but he was about to dissolve into a giant drop of sweat. As the
rest of the guests came out of the church to say good-bye to the happy couple,
he loosened his tie, then saw Jessy, standing in the shade of an oak, arms
folded over her middle, watching him.
God, she’d been watching him all through the reception, and him her. He couldn’t say why
he hadn’t approached her, asked her to share a piece of
cake, talk with him, dance with him. Then his gut clenched hard, his chest tightening, and he remembered: because he would
have spontaneously combusted,
and wouldn’t that have been an ugly page in Dane and Carly’s wedding album? From the moment he’d walked into the church and seen her
sitting there all beautiful and sexy and focused on him, all he could think was, Is it time? Please, can it be time?
He was surprised God hadn’t struck him
down where he stood.
It was stupid, he thought as he walked
to her. He was thirty-two years old. He’d been married. He’d had sex with his
share of women. Hell, he’d had sex with
this woman. But he hadn’t known then what he knew now. Then it had been
horniness and loneliness, and any woman who persisted until he was drunk would
have satisfied. Now it was . . .
Well, he didn’t know what it was,
exactly. Important.
They had something special, a second
chance for both of them to
make things right, to
make each other right. Something to not screw up.
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Hope y'all enjoyed the tour stop!
