Office supply addict Eve McGrath’s meticulously organized life is on the verge of crashing at her feet. Blue Mountain distillery’s new tasting and visitor center has to be finished pronto or her mother will lose her mind. Good thing Eve likes a challenge—which is exactly what she’ll face trying to convince the flaky contractor’s hot son to finish the job.
Nick Baker is back in Kentucky just long enough to get his wayward dad back on his feet. Then he’s gone. Unfortunately, he can’t resist helping Eve, the sexy distiller-in-distress, whose addictive, bourbon-flavored kisses threaten his carefully constructed boundaries. And if he can’t rein himself in, the uncomfortable secrets of past will nail him to the wall…
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Teri Anne Stanley began her writing career with scientific articles—followed by a three-ingredient recipe column, but wasn’t allowed to write sex scenes for them—so now she writes fun, sexy romance filled love, angst and nekkid parts.
She’s also worked as a fashion designer for female body builders and a sex therapist for rats. In her spare time, she is a neuroscience research assistant. Along with a variety of teenagers and dogs, she and Mr. Stanley live just outside of Sugartit, which is—honest to God—between Beaverlick, and Rabbit Hash, Kentucky.
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They were alone. Eve was suddenly nervous. What was the deal? She wanted to ask Nick if the incident in the truck last weekend was a one-shot deal, if he’d decided he really wasn’t that into her, or if there was going to be more, but reminded herself that she was taking things as they came.
Not stressing over the future. The bag with her planner inside banged against her hip as she led Nick down the hall to a door at the end. “Well, this is it,” she told him.
“No. The Office Superstore out on 62 is my mecca. This is just a temple.”
“You really like office supplies, huh?”
“Oh yeah,” she told him. “Those times I get to take the company credit card and go to the office store? All that potential for organization and efficiency? It’s like Christmas and New Year’s Eve all rolled into one.”
“Copy paper.” He said it in a deep, growly voice that could have come from a 1970’s R&B singer. “Thumb tacks.” He waggled his eyebrows at her, and she giggled.
She turned away to grab the door handle, and he stepped closer, so she could feel him almost but not quite touching her from shoulder to butt. No, it wasn’t the thought of file folders that had her nipples tightening and heat pooling low in her belly. She stepped back, bumping into him as she pulled the door open, revealing her stash of office supplies.
“Paper clips.” This was more of a husky whisper. Which did actually send a shiver down her spine, but not because of the words themselves, more about the way he said it. Right into the place where her shoulder met her neck. His hands were on her hips now, and with just a tiny bit of effort, he could have her fully back against him. “Ball point pens.”
Her entire body flushed, and she took a chance asking the question, because leaving this up to fate was no longer an option. “Are you trying to seduce me with sexy language?”
“Is it working?”
“I think it is,” she told him and turned to face him.
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