Excerpt & Giveaway: Summer at the Shore by V. K. Sykes
Summer
at the Shore
Seashell Bay # 2
Seashell Bay # 2
By:
V.K. Sykes
Releasing
June 30, 2015
Grand
Central: Forever
Blurb
JUST
A SUMMER FLING?
Morgan
Merrifield sacrificed her teaching career to try to save her family's
bed-and-breakfast and care for her younger sister. She can't let
herself get distracted by Ryan Butler. After all, the rugged
ex-Special Forces soldier is only in Seashell Bay for the summer. But
her longtime crush soon flares into real desire-and with one
irresistible kiss, she's swept away.
Ryan
values his freedom. As much as he wants Morgan, he's not ready to
settle down with anyone, much less in sleepy Seashell Bay. But his
code of honor doesn't allow him to leave a woman in distress-and
she's in desperate need of help to fix the inn. It only takes one day
working under the same roof and Ryan is already hoping for a lifetime
of hot summer nights . . .
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Excerpt
Ryan
followed her up the porch stairs and into the center hallway. If
Morgan didn’t miss her guess, his gaze was probably glued to her
butt. A few minutes ago, that same gaze had made a slow perusal of
her entire body, which had sent the blood rushing from her head
directly to points south. He was clearly appreciating her outfit. Or
more likely, what he imagined was underneath it.
Then
again, she’d made a little more effort today, unlike her usual and
decidedly more casual early morning routine. Her top was kind of
tight and showcased her cleavage without being trashy, while her
capris were a snug fit. A little understated makeup had been in order
too. She kept telling herself that she was simply making up for her
sweaty, harassed, and rumpled appearance on the boat yesterday. After
all, she didn’t want Ryan to think she was on the verge of a
nervous breakdown or anything.
Ha,
ha. Nice try, Merrifield.
Besides,
how could she object to him giving her a few once-overs when she’d
been doing exactly the same thing to him? When he got out of the golf
cart, it had hit her all over again that Ryan was truly a prime piece
of rampant masculinity—more so every time she saw him. His soft,
form-fitting Red Sox T-shirt and cargo shorts displayed a fabulous
expanse of carved, tanned muscle, enough to make her start mentally
fanning herself. Add in ruggedly handsome features and a dark,
mysterious gaze, and everything about him screamed hot, powerful
male, a guy who knew exactly what he wanted and how to take it.
And it
looked like he might just want to take her.
Morgan
knew her self-control was in for a very rocky time. Keep him busy all
summer? Yeah, her suddenly filthy mind could pull up about a thousand
ways to do that—some of them probably illegal and all of them
insanely stupid, at least when it came to protecting herself from
hurt.
But
she knew the wild ride would be worth it.
Almost.
Passing
the parlor and dining room on the left and the
sitting room/library on the right, she led Ryan back to the junction
between the house and the annex. Only when she reached the door to
the kitchen did she realize he’d stopped and crouched, carefully
inspecting an electrical outlet. He made a note, then rose and strode
down the hall to join her.
“Morgan,
just how old is the wiring in here?”
Her
lovely Ryan fantasies crumbled under the onslaught of reality. “All
I know is that everything passed inspection when Dad bought it.”
“Getting
through a home inspection doesn’t necessarily mean that much, and
that was years ago anyway,” he said in a somber voice. “If the
rest of the house is like this, you need to fully upgrade as soon as
possible.”
Morgan
stifled a pathetic whimper. “That would cost a fortune.”
“It
would cost a lot more if the place went up in smoke.”
Crap.
She couldn’t possibly afford new wiring now, but she’d build it
into her already awful calculations of what she’d have to spend at
some point to keep her increasingly bloated whale afloat.
After
a quick nod of acknowledgment, she headed into the kitchen, where her
sister was working at the center island, cutting up vegetables for a
country-style soup. Ever deliberate, Sabrina would probably take a
good half hour or more to work her way through the carrots, beans,
onions, turnips, butternut squash, and celery. Though Morgan always
offered to help, her sister tended to push her away more often than
not. Cooking was one of the few things Sabrina felt comfortable
doing, and it gave her a much-needed measure of pride.
“Sweetie,
say hello to Ryan,” Morgan said with an encouraging smile.
Her
sister wore a white chef’s apron that covered her from her chest
almost down to her knees. Underneath was a blue T-shirt, faded jeans,
and black Converse running shoes with purple trim.
“Hi,
Ryan,” Sabrina said without looking up.
He
extended his hand across the island countertop. “It’s really good
to see you again, Sabrina.”
Sabrina
wiped her right hand on her apron. Morgan had little doubt her
sister’s palm was damp since all through breakfast she’d been as
nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. After some
hesitation, during which Ryan patiently waited, Sabrina extended her
hand for a tentative shake. Thank God he’d remembered Sabrina’s
aversion to hugging—hugging men anyway—and hadn’t tried to
embrace her.
“Uh,
thanks for helping us out,” Sabrina said.
“Those
are great shoes,” he said, glancing at her feet. “That purple
trim is totally cool.”
Sabrina
looked down, then managed a shy grin. “Thanks.”
Morgan
started to relax a little now that the ice had been broken. She
crossed the kitchen and reached down into a cupboard for an iron
skillet. “Bacon, sausage, and eggs okay, Ryan? How do you like your
eggs?”
Ryan
moved around the island to stand next to Sabrina. “Any way is
fine.”
“Coming
right up.” Morgan grabbed her pink apron from a hook on the back of
the pantry door.
“Sabrina,
how about I give you a hand with those veggies?” Ryan said.
Sabrina
glanced over at Morgan, looking uncertain.
“If
he insists, I say we put the man to work,” Morgan said.
Sabrina
extracted a wide-bladed knife from a butcher block on the counter and
handed it to Ryan, who carefully ran his thumb along the edge. Then
she reached down and pulled out another cutting board. “Would you
mind doing the onions? They burn my eyes something fierce.”
Ryan
grabbed the pair of big red onions. “When you cut into an onion, it
releases a gas that combines with the water in your eyes to form an
acid. People have come up with a lot of ideas to avoid burning tears.
I’ve only found a couple of things that help though.”
Morgan
stared at him. He was the last guy on Earth she thought would be
talking about cooking tricks.
Author Info
V.K. Sykes is really two people – Vanessa Kelly and Randy Sykes, a husband and wife team who write USA Today Bestselling contemporary romance and also romantic suspense. Randy excels at plot and characterization, but tends to fall down on the job when it comes to that pesky old thing called emotion. That’s where Vanessa steps in. She usually writes the sex scenes too, since Randy is a bit uncomfortable when it comes to that sort of stuff. Vanessa also writes award-winning Regency-set historical romance for Kensington Zebra under her own name. You can check out Vanessa’s bestselling historical romances at www.vanessakellyauthor.com
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