So the next book I’m releasing into the romance reading world will be book 2 in my Heaven’s Matchmaker series, LOVE MATCH, Layla and Cody’s story.
Right now, this is gearing up to be a sweet-with-heat book ( not my typical sensual/steamy). We will see where it winds up in the end.
Here’s a brief snippet – and remember: this is a rough draft, so it’s still pretty raw and unedited:
As she drove through town her stomach growled. The only thing she’d eaten all day was one cookie from the box she’d brought Effie, and now she was feeling peckish. Her gaze caught the sign for the Love Shack as she passed it, and she turned the car around and pulled into the lot. Liv had mentioned the night before it was a great place to get take-out food and they had the best burgers in three states. A loaded hamburger sounded perfect right now.
For three o’clock on a Sunday afternoon, the lot was packed. She found a spot and then ran against the cold through the doors. The noise was deafening as she made her way through the jammed entranceway to the bar. Three big screen televisions covered the walls broadcasting simultaneous football games. Every table was filled with men and women in striking blue football jerseys with the Patriots distinct logo and team member names across them.
Football season was in full swing.
With cheers and catcalls from the throng aimed toward the screens, Layla made her way up to the crowded bar.
The bartender spotted her right away.
“What can I get you, sweetheart?” he asked.
Layla craned her neck to look the guy in the face. He had to be six-six if he was an inch with shoulders and arms that regularly saw the inside of a gym. A shaggy mass of black waves drifted down to those colossal shoulders.
“Kick Loomis?”
One bushy eyebrow crawled up his forehead. “Who’s asking?”
Years of ingrained business etiquette had her extending her hand as she lifted up on her toes so he could hear her. “Olivia Joyner mentioned your name to me. I’m Kalya Warton. I—”
“Effie Mason’s granddaughter.” He nodded as he took her hand and cocooned it between both of his. Her own was swallowed up in its mass. “Yeah, Liv said you were visiting. And yes, I’m Kick. Your grannie’s a doll.”
“I agree.”
“What can I do for ya?”
“Liv claims you’ve got the best burgers in three states.”
“She’s not wrong.” His smile beamed like bright lights on a darkened highway.
Nodding, she said, “I’d like one, as rare as can be, to go.”
“Rare as in pink or mooing?”
She laughed. “Mooing is perfect.”
“Anything on it? Sides? Condiments?”
Her gaze glanced across the menu above the bar. “Provolone cheese, and an order of sweet potato fries, please.”
“Cop a squat,” he pointed to a recently emptied bar stool, “and I’ll get it for ya. Should be about fifteen minutes, tops. Want something to drink while you wait?”
“Diet Pepsi, if you’ve got it.”
He grinned. “Coming right up.”
“Thanks.”
She settled down just as a wave of shouts and cheers erupted from the crowd behind her. Grinning, she spun on the bar stool and before she realized someone was standing behind her, her knees banged into the person, forcing them to stumble backward.
“Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t see—you!”
A pair of chocolate brown eyes peered down at her from under hooded lids.
“We’ve got to stop meeting this way,” he said, shaking his head, the ghost of a wry grin sliding across his mouth.
“Are you following me?” she blurted. The idea he could be a reporter bloomed fast and furious within her.
Those dark orbs widened as genuine shock filled his face. “What? No. No, of course not. It’s just…” he shrugged, “serendipity we keep bumping into one another. Or in reality, you keep bumping in to me. Maybe you’re the one doing the following.”
She couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, and before she could protest, Kick returned with a glass in one hand, a go-bag in the other.
“Hey, Henry. Saw you come in. Got your order.” He handed him the bag, then placed the glass in front of her. “Here’s your drink, Layla.”
They both thanked him at the same time.
“Tell your folks I said hey,” Kick said.
The guy – Henry – lifted the bag and saluted. “Will do. And thanks for getting this ready so fast. My old man loves your wings.”
Kick grinned. “Music to my ears, man.” He turned his attention to Layla. “You’re order’s in.”
“Thank you.”
With a quick grin, he moved back down the bar while she took a sip of her drink for something to occupy her shaking hands. Embarrassment bounded through her and she didn’t want to confront the reason for it standing directly to her right. Three times in the span of two days she’d come close to knocking him over. Granted, she hadn’t been paying attention when she left Liv’s office so that was on her, but the time in the grocery store wasn’t her fault because of the way the aisles were constructed. And maybe she should have checked before spinning on her stool to make sure no one was close by. But still.
“I was only kidding,” she heard him say, dangerously close to her ear, the warmth of his breath shooting little tingles of awareness straight down her spine. A hint of citrus and spice hit her next and it took every ounce of will she could summon not to lean into him and sniff his neck. “I know you’re not stalking me.”
She lifted the glass in her hands, her lips firmly circling the straw as she lifted her gaze up to his face. Because she didn’t trust herself to say something inane or worse – snarky – she sucked the icy cold soda through the straw and tossed him a single nod.
His attention drifted down to her lips. She wasn’t sure because the lighting in the bar was subdued, but if pressed she would have sworn his pupils dilated when they settled on the spot, then lifted back to her eyes.
Layla knew she should swallow. The soda was so cold it was actually ice-burning her teeth. But she couldn’t. Either her body simply forgot how to, or the guy had paralyzed her ability to with the intensity of his gaze.
Whatever the reason, she sat there, not moving, just staring up at him. His eyes really were incredibly dark, the brown in them almost black. The threads of burnished red she’d noted in the natural light of day were softened in the artificial bar light, making the hair seem more like a deer’s pelt; a mix of browns, earthen tones, and lighter shades.
And again, an almost aching need to weave her fingers through it bubbled up, the tips of her fingers tingling.
Henry’s gaze stayed glued to hers as her own drifted down his cheeks to the day’s worth of stubble crossing his jaw. She’d always been a clean-shaven kind of girl when it came to her men but right now wondered why.
He tilted his head and inched closer to her, neither turning their attention from the other.
Another raucous cheer erupted from the crowd.
His eyes widened to the size of sand dollars and his entire body shook like a he’d been jolted by an electrical charge. Layla remained stone still, her lips still curved around the straw. He blinked several times before focusing in on her again.
“Well.” He shifted the bag to his opposite hand, cleared his throat. “Gotta go. See ya around. Layla.”
Publication date TBD!! Stay tuned for announcements. ~ Peg
Peggy Jaeger, Author 