Synopsis:
Sometimes you can't help falling in love, even when you try to do the opposite...Successful fashion blogger McKenna Bell has spent far too long protecting herself after the way her ex-fiancé left her at the altar for a college chick he met the night of his bachelor party. Loving again, trusting again, well, that's just not in the cards. Especially now that her ex is back in town with his new woman, demanding custody of McKenna's favorite creature in the whole world--her dog. No effing way. McKenna's had enough of him, and she decides to even the score by finding her own hot young thing -- a Trophy Husband. Sure, she's only twenty-seven, but doesn't that make it even more fun -- and infuriating to her ex -- to pursue a younger man? When she declares her intentions on her daily blog, her quest quickly skyrockets in popularity, and that's when Chris enters the picture, and he’s got all the assets. He's handsome, successful, and turns her inside out with a kiss to end all kisses, the kind that makes you feel like a shooting star. But loving again could mean losing again, and it's so much easier to focus on getting even, isn't it? Unless, you just can't help falling in love. Which means McKenna will have to come face to face with what she really wants in life -- protecting her heart from hurt, or letting go of her fears of a new beginning
TEASERS
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EXCERPTS!
"I close my eyes, and picture a kiss that starts sweet and soft and slow. Then, his hands cup my face as if he’s claiming me, saying you’re mine with his lips and his hands and the way he draws me in close, his thumb tracing a line along my jaw. It’s such a small gesture, but such a poetically possessive one and I arch my back, inviting more. In one swift move, he pulls my chair to him, sliding me between the V of his legs. His fingers thread their way into my hair, and I lean into his hands, reveling in the way they feel against the back of my head, as if he’s holding me in the exact way he wants me, in the exact way I want to be held."
"I really should pretend I’m not watching him. But it’s impossible not to. I didn’t look away during that scene in Casino Royale either when Daniel Craig emerged from the water. He wears board shorts, low on his hips, and a pair of flip flops. I watch him as he walks through the sand, closer, closer and there, now I can say without a shadow of a doubt that I would like to lick all those water droplets off his chest and his abs and then run a hand down his body to sear into my memory the feel of that kind of firm outline. Soon, he’s mere feet from me, scratched-up surfboard by his side, in all his glistening, ocean-ed up glory. Neither one of us says anything for a few seconds, and it’s the kind of silence that’s filled with unsaid things"
"I was born a romantic, and bred a romantic, and I’m still one, even though I’ve been on a most decided detour for the last twelve months. Then I remind myself to stay focused on the prize because love smacked me hard on the cheek, leaving a red mark that still stings. I can’t go looking for it again. If love comes along for the ride, so be it. But that feels a bit like winning the lottery right now"
“Oooh, giving me orders already. I like that. Makes me feel like a boy toy.”
“Better watch out, Chris. Soon, I may be asking you to arrive at my house and pretend to be the pool boy.”
“I could totally do a cabana boy look for you.”
“If I had horses you could be a stable boy.”
“Giddy up.”
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