PERFECT KIND OF TROUBLE by Chelsea Fine (February 3, 2015; Forever Trade Paperback; $12.00)
Sometimes when perfect falls apart, a little trouble fixes everything . . .Β
Twenty-one-year-old Kayla Turner has lost everything. After spending most of her life taking care of her ailing mother, she just wants to spot a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel. So when her late father-a man she barely knew-leaves her an inheritance, she finally breathes a sigh of relief . . . until she learns the inheritance comes with strings. Strings in the form of handsome playboy Daren Ackwood, her father’s protΓ©gΓ©. To see any of her inheritance, she’s forced to team up with him. From his expensive car to those sexy dimples, Kayla’s seen his type before. But Daren isn’t who he seems to be . . .
Struggling to make amends for his family’s mistakes, Daren has a life more Oliver Twist than Richie Rich these days. He’s beyond grateful that James Turner included him in his will, but working with Turner’s princess of a daughter to fulfill his cryptic last wish is making Daren wonder if being broke is really so bad. Still, she’s just as beautiful as she is stubborn, and the more time he spends with Kayla, the less it feels right being without her. Soon Daren and Kayla begin to wonder if maybe the best gift Kayla’s dad could have left them . . . was each other.
Want to win a copy of PERFECT KIND OF TROUBLE by Chelsea Fine? Join in our scavenger hunt!Β EachΒ participating blog will feature a letter in their postβcollect all the letters to find out the secret word.Β If youβre just joining in, be sure to head toΒ Cocktails & BooksΒ for the first letter.Β Once youβve got the word, head on over to Chelsea Fineβs website to get your book! This post is brought to you by the letter C!Β Look for the next letter at Fresh Fiction.Β (This giveaway is open to US/Canada only)
βSo this is where you work?β She gestures at the closed kitchen door behind me as she approaches.
I step back so she can enter the courtyard then glance over my shoulder. βItβs more like the place where I help out in the kitchen, occasionally,β I say. βI like to cook so sometimes the owner, Jake, letβs me jump on the line.β
She tilts her head. βI wouldnβt have pegged you as the cooking type.β
βNo?β I arch a brow. βWhat type am I?β
βWell the professional lover type, obviously.β
I grin. βThat too.β
The teasing in her eyes along with the lightness of her smile does something soft to my insides. This is a different Kayla than the one I was sitting next to at the bar. That girl was stressed and burdened, but this girl⦠this girl is hopeful and happy.
The only reason I can think of for the change in her tone is the inheritance. Does the idea of getting money please her so much that sheβs suddenly this cheerful person? Does it please me that much?
I remember Jakeβs comment earlier, about my being happy, and realize with a sinking feeling that yes, the idea of an inheritance has made me happy. Money would alleviate some of my problems and, therefore, it gives me a security in my future that pleases me.
Iβm not sure how I feel about money having so much control over my contentment. It makes me sound an awful lot like my dad.
βSo what is this place?β she asks, nodding to the courtyard around us.
I look up at the small twinkle lights strung above the area. βRight now itβs just storage space. But Jake wants to make it into a dining patio. You know, so people can rent it out for private parties or whatever.β
βItβs cute.β She walks around, checking out the rose bushes that line the fence and the Tuscany-inspired mural painted against the back wall.
βSo where you off to?β I step closer so weβre both beside the painted wall. βBack to your humble abode at the Quickie Stop?β
She scoffs. βHumble indeed. But yeah.β
I glance at the dark parking lot beyond the fence and the even darker streets that lead to the edge of town, and frown. βBy yourself?β
She faces me with a cocked eyebrow. βYeah. Iβve got my own driverβs license and everything.β
I smile at the ground. βOkay, thatβs fair.β I glance at the dark streets again. βIβm just a concerned citizen that wanted to make sure you got home safely. Thatβs all.β
She nods. βHow very kind of you, citizen. Would you rather I be going back to the Quickie Stop with someone?β
The idea of Kayla going home with someoneβanyone, other than meβrakes down my spine like nails on a chalkboard. I donβt know when I got so possessive of this girl but holy hell. My veins are on fire.
How very unexpected. And somewhat annoying.
I donβt get possessive of women. Ever. Sure, I care about Amber and Pixie but thatβs different. I care about them like sisters. Iβm protective of them. I couldnβt really give a damn who they, or any other female in this town, go to bed with.
But Kayla?
Hot jealousy darts through my veins.
How very annoyingly unexpected.
I set my shoulders back in a casual manner. βNot particularly,β I say coolly. βI just wasnβt sure if you had a ride or not.β
βOh.β She runs a finger over her lips. βAnd what, you were going to offer me a ride?β
I watch the tip of her finger skim over the pink fullness of her bottom lip and my breath hitches. She canβt say things like βgive me a rideβ and touch her mouth at the same time. Thatβs just not fair.
βWell I might have offered you a ride,β I say, inwardly cursing as I remember sweet, precious Monique, βexcept Iβm pretty sure youβre not supposed to take rides from strangers. And since thatβs what you and I areβ¦β I sigh dramatically. βIt would have just been a waste of time to ask you.β
She smiles behind her moving fingers and I start to wonder if sheβd let me kiss her. My guess is, yes. Maybe.
I want to kiss Kayla. Badly. But the idea of kissing her, of touching her at all, also makes me a little nervous. And Iβm never nervous when it comes to women.
Goddammit. Everything about this girl is unexpected.
βYouβre so obsessed with us not being strangers,β she says, and her eyes shine. βThat canβt be healthy.β
I probably shouldnβt kiss her. We have an inheritance to claim tomorrow. We have shit to follow through with. Kissing her is a bad idea. A very bad idea.
βNo. Probably not.β I step closer so weβre only inches apart. βBut I canβt seem to let it go.β
She doesnβt move away. She doesnβt break eye contact.
Yes. Sheβd definitely let me kiss her. Iβm sure of it.
My heart pounds and itβs all I can do to keep my nonchalant demeanor in place.
βIs that what we are, Kayla?β I lower my voice with a crooked grin. βStrangers?β
She meets my crooked grin and raises me a tipped chin. Her eyes are steel and sure, not giving anything away, and I suddenly feel unsure.
I lean in.
She doesnβt react. But she also doesnβt back away.
Kissing her is a bad idea.
Her lips part, ever so slightly, a thin seam of wet flesh forming between the soft skin of her pretty lips, and all my reservations vanish.
Chelsea lives in Phoenix, Arizona, where she spends most of her time writing stories, painting murals, and avoiding housework at all costs. She’s ridiculously bad at doing dishes and claims to be allergic to laundry. Her obsessions include: superheroes, coffee, sleeping-in, and crazy socks. She lives with her husband and two children, who graciously tolerate her inability to resist teenage drama on TV and her complete lack of skill in the kitchen.Β
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Christina R. in the rafflecopter
A funny book boy π
I have a US address but rafflecopter might show my location outside US because Iβm doing a semester abroad
thank you so very much π
I would be handcuffed to Gavin Blake any day.
A baby. Some of those items could be hidden in tiny places. It would be too hard to reach in with my giant arms, but a baby might fit. Not sure how those handcuffs would work though.
My husband because we would laugh and have such a good time together
Someone who could help me win
Someone fun