Opening the door and letting a tall, dark stranger in? What could possibly go right? For uptight Lisi, the answer is easy. A lot.
An impending divorce means Lisi Hallinan has no choice but to sell the in-need-of-repairs house she’s been living in. Fortunately, she’s found a sucker—oops, an older gentleman—who’s willing to take it off her hands. Except there’s nothing old or gentle about Joe Roop. Not only does he want the house, he vows to bed the lovely seller.
Sometimes a man lets his libido make all the moves. Sometimes a woman heeds the same desire.
It’s all good, great in fact.
Until the interlude ends.
Publisher's Note: This book has previously been released elsewhere. It has been revised and re-edited for re-release with Totally Bound Publishing.
General Release Date: 25th April 2017
“I want to get laid.”
“I hate to point this out to you, honey, but you’ve been out of the dating game a long time. Your little black book has expired.”
“Like I ever had one. Kat, I’m serious, I’m about to jump out of my skin.” Propelled by her words, Lisi Hallinan stalked to the window and stared out at the overgrown yard. One good thing about hundred-plus-year-old windows—they distorted reality, making the jungle-like growth easier to ignore. “I had no idea I was so uptight. To know I’m going to be able to get out from under this pressure is a huge load off my mind. I can finally see beyond the end of my nose and listen to what my body’s trying to tell me.”
“The sale’s a sure thing? Real estate’s such a mess these days.”
“Tell me about it. Why do you think I’ve been stressed? Get this. It’s an all-cash deal. I figure it’s some old fart with more money and nostalgia than sense.”
“Cash? You’re shittin’ me.”
“You think I’d joke about this? I’ll give you all the details, but only if you buy the first drink tonight.”
“You drive a hard bargain. Okay, tonight it is. The Stagecoach? A little after six.”
“Of course, the Stagecoach. As much as I plan on drinking, it has to be within walking distance.”
“What about the rest of the gang?”
Lisi turned her back on the yard she loved but which in less than a month would no longer be her responsibility and walked into the small kitchen. The floor groaned. “Kara and Callie are on board. I have a message in for Squeaky.”
“It’s looking good. With the gang checking out the merchandise, we’re sure to find someone willing to scratch your itches. Glad to hear your hormones are finally working again.”
That they are, in spades, Lisi acknowledged as she hung up. Going by her fortunately limited experience of having only done it once, divorce was super effective in shutting down the sex drive. She’d heard of women who became nymphos before the divorce papers were signed, but not her. All she’d wanted to do was crawl into a cave and hibernate. Instead, she’d been stuck in an aging house with a for-sale sign.
And a job, don’t forget that.
Determined to forestall an unproductive session with her inner voice, she deserted the kitchen for the living room and the stereo she’d refused to part with when her ex had insisted that half of the furniture was his. Yes, Neil Diamond! A little Cracklin’ Rosie followed by a lot of Holy, Holy. Loud. As loud as the old windows could stand.
Mr. Diamond belted. Lisi stood hugging herself and hoping she wasn’t going to start crying. Get laid, that was what she needed. A one-night stand to end all one-night stands.
The cell phone in her front jeans pocket vibrated, nearly causing her to climax. Thinking it would be Squeaky, she connected.
“Lisi?” a male voice asked. She had to strain to hear over the music.
“Yes.”
“This is Joe Roop. I’m buying your house.”
“You’re what? Just a minute. Let me—” She spun the stereo volume dial. “There. Now I can hear you.”
“I hope you don’t mind,” the unexpectedly deep and sexy male voice said. “Your realtor gave me your number.”
You’d heard I needed to get laid and you have a cock and— “She did? Is there a problem?”
Joe whatever-he’d-said-his-last-name-was didn’t immediately answer. Her stomach flipped over, then knotted. Not fair! A man with a sexy voice should not be allowed to be the bearer of bad news.
“With the offer?” he finally broke the silence. “I hope not.”
Sigh. “So do I.”
“I’m jumping the gun, but what are you doing right now?”
Going a little crazy. “I don’t understand.”
“Sorry. That didn’t come out the way I wanted it to. I happen to be just down the street. I’ve already driven by twice and was tempted to take pictures, but I didn’t want to startle you. Besides, what I’m really interested in is the interior. I’ve started formulating plans for the renovation, but although I took notes when I was there with my realtor, I really need photographs.”
This stranger with the nerve-tingling voice was a few doors away. Sitting in his car. Talking to her. About renovation. Wanting to step inside and stand next to her so she could see what he looked and smelled like.
Old fart? He didn’t sound like one.
“I don’t know,” she blurted, suddenly scared of the opposite sex. “I’m getting ready—I have an appointment—”
“Would tomorrow be better then?”
Tomorrow sounded like a million years away. Neil was still making his musical presence known, and with every word Joe Whatever spoke, her skin was becoming more sensitive. Given the current state of her system, she wasn’t sure she trusted herself around the town’s seventy-five-year-old mayor.
What the hell! Six months of celibacy didn’t mean she’d turned into a cat in heat. She was conservative and competent, an asset to the town’s government, or so the city council said. And at this moment, half-crazy.
“No, no. That’s all right. I have a little time. This shouldn’t take long, should it?”
“I don’t think so. But if you prefer I wait until your husband can be—”
“What I have is an ex. I’ll be waiting.”
* * * *
Joe Roop put his car into Drive, glanced at the rearview mirror and pulled a U-turn in the quiet residential street. He hoped no one objected, not just because he didn’t need a ticket, but Gold Ridge was about to become his town. The residents were respectful of the rules, right?
At least he figured they were. As a consequence of his career, he’d been home so seldom he’d never felt connected to the exclusive condo complex where he and his wife—his ex-wife—had lived. He’d paid his association dues. What he hadn’t done was mow a lawn on Saturday mornings or join his neighbors for barbeques in the evening. Now he was about to become the owner of a lawn in need of a lot more than a lawnmower and neighbors he knew nothing about.
Lisi Hallinan must believe he was a nut. Maybe the poor old lady was rethinking her decision to let him in. In fact, being kicked to the curb might be better than having to sip tea or whatever elderly women offered their guests these days.
The sale would close in a few weeks. He could wait, darn it, be patient. He had a lifetime in which to turn the house into what he wanted it to become. Okay, not a lifetime, but waiting until next month wasn’t going to kill him, right?
As he pulled into the gravel and weed drive, he pondered two things. One, where was Mrs. Hallinan planning to move to? Hopefully not one of those retirement homes. Two, was her ex paying alimony and had said ex traded her in for a newer, younger and less wrinkled model? Hopefully not that either.
Then he opened the car door and a third thought hit. The air smelled wonderful, like growing things and warm dirt and rocks. Yes, walking away from his former life had been the right thing to do.
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