Title: Love So Irresistible (Lawsons
#3)
Age Group: Adult
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: April 14, 2015
Cover Designer: Lindee Robinson Photography
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Book Description:
All former Navy SEAL Mason Lawson craves is solitude. Unfortunately, his new
neighbor won’t allow him the peace he so desperately needs. Between the traffic
and the music, Mason is constantly on edge—not exactly what the doctor ordered
for someone recovering from a bullet to the leg. However, when he finally has
enough and confronts his neighbor, nothing can prepare him for how hot he’d get
for the teacher next door.
Piano teacher, Skylar Jernigan, loves everything about the town of Jessamine—from
the quaint Main Street shops to the people who own them. Unfortunately, once she’s
chewed up and spit out by her sexy neighbor, Skylar begins to question her decision
to move to a new town. Until, that is, she learns he’s suffering from a war wound and
refuses to have anything to do with his family.
Now, Skylar is determined to help Mason recover—mentally, physically and
socially—until he turns the tables and sets out to seduce Skylar right out of her
meddling ways. Only seduction turns into something more and soon, Mason can’t
stop looking for excuses to be with her. But when the Navy wants Mason to reenlist
for a dangerous mission, will Skylar be too irresistible for him to leave?
Excerpt:
“I bought too many, so I thought I’d share the extras with you,” Skylar said. Her
explanation sounded perfectly reasonable to her, even if her reason for being on
Mason’s front porch was entirely unbelievable.
She had caved, faster
than a sandcastle taking on high tide.
Mason stared at her as if he
couldn’t quite comprehend what she was saying. “That’s a hell of a lot of crab for
only being extra.”
“My eyes were bigger than my stomach.” She held out
the large bag of crabs to him. “And I can’t resist a sale.”
He leaned
against the doorframe, his light hair pulled back off his handsome face. She studied
him for a minute, taking in his blue t-shirt and loose jeans. He was too skinny for the
jeans, but the t-shirt stretched out rather nicely over his shoulders and the
indentions on each side of his hips were not hard on the eyes at all.
“Anything else you can’t resist?” he asked and she jerked up her gaze, blushing
hotly at being caught ogling him.
“Beer?” She held up the six-pack. “Fat
Tire was on sale, too.”
He narrowed his sexy, blue eyes at her. “You’ve
already eaten?”
She shook her head. “Not yet. I need to search for a
recipe for the crabs I kept for myself. I’ve never cooked them before.” The crabs
moved in the bag, and she almost dropped them. The cold had kept them immobile,
but the longer she stood in the heat…the more awake they became.
Stepping to one side, he motioned for her to come inside. “Might as well eat with
me. I already have a recipe,” he said as he closed the door behind her and started for
the back of the house. Instead of using his cane, he limped as he walked and Bomber
stayed at his side.
“I can just write it down,” she said, following him.
He tapped the side of his head. “Secret family recipe.”
She
laughed. “But I’ll see what you use.”
“You won’t know the exact amounts
and that’s important.”
Mason’s kitchen was huge, with stainless-steel
appliances and more cabinets than anyone could ever need. In the center stood a
large island with a prep sink and a butcher-block top.
“Really nice
kitchen,” she said, admiring the wavy glass in the doors of the nearest cabinet.
“I like to cook.”
“You do?”
“I like to eat,” he said, as
if that explained everything.
“Who doesn’t?” she replied.
“Lately, I haven’t.” He turned around and leaned against the counter. She set the
bag of crabs in the sink and the beer on the island.
“Do your meds make
your appetite go away?” They had for her dad, in those awful, final months. He’d
practically wasted away to nothing. Maybe that was why she wanted to help Mason
so badly. She didn’t want another person to just waste away, especially if she could
help. Mason didn’t have cancer either.
He nodded stiffly. “You’re the
first person to ask me that…besides my doctor.”
“The alcohol doesn’t
help.” She wasn’t stupid. She’d seen the half-empty bottles and had smelled it on his
breath. “It’s a good thing you exercise or you wouldn’t look like you do.”
She half expected him to take offense, but he only lifted a brow and said, “How do
I look exactly?”
“Like a man who used to take care of his body.”
His lips thinned. “How is the air working in your house?”
“Like
a freezer.”
“Good thing?”
“Very good thing. I actually wore
pajamas to bed last night,” she said. “But I’m going to have to bring you a lot of
noise-cancelling headphones in order to pay you back. They had to replace the
entire thing.”
“What did you used to wear?” he asked with a grin that
almost made her forget her own name.
He would focus on that.
“Nothing. I mean…” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t try to change the subject. I
will pay you back.”
“Crab and beer are a good start.” He pushed away
from the front of the island and opened a deep drawer, pulling out a large pot and
handing it to her. “Fill this halfway up with water and put it on the stove to boil. Gas
burners okay for you?”
“Yes. I have one, too.” She took the pot and filled
it, then set it on the stove and turned on the gas while he poured in a dash of vinegar
and sprinkled in some spices. “What’s next?”
“We fix the sides—I’m
thinking fries and hushpuppies.”
She glanced at the crabs and shivered.
They were moving more vigorously now. “What about them?” She whispered the
last word.
“We’ll get to them in a minute.” He nodded to the right.
“There’s a bag of potatoes in the pantry. Get those out and we’ll make fries.”
Thankful for something else to do besides worry about the stupid crabs,
she hopped right to it. “I guess this is as good of time as any to confess that I’ve
never cooked live seafood before.”
“Figured as much.”
She
glanced up into his blue eyes. “I can do whatever I need to in order to cook
them.”
“I’ll take care of the crab.”
How could something so
simple, and about cooking of all things, make her want to swoon?
He
touched her face, starting at her cheek and ending up at her lips. His thumb brushed
her mouth. The smell of liquor wafted over her. “You’ve been drinking.” So that
explained his easygoing mood. It wasn’t her presence. “Did you take your meds with
it?”
“Always do before bed.”
She frowned. “That’s not safe,
Mason.”
“You’re worried about me?”
Instead of answering,
she nodded.
“Why?”
“Because we’re neigh—”
“Don’t.” His thumb made another pass, and she shivered again. This time in
pleasure and not fear. His touch was making her weak in the knees. “The real
reason, Skylar.”
“Because when I saw you on the ground, I thought that
if anyone needed love, it was you.
“Not that I’m in love with you. I meant
a neighborly type of love. Love for fellow man type of love,” she added. “What would
Jesus do love.”
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About the
author:
New York Times Bestselling Author, Marquita Valentine, writes sexy heroes that
make you swoon and sassy heroines that make you laugh. She’s the author of the
bestselling contemporary romance series, Holland Springs, and the new adult
romance series, Boys of the South.
Marquita met her husband aka Hot Builder at Sonic when they were in high school.
She suggests this location to all of her single friends in search of a good man—and if
that doesn't work, they can console themselves with cheesy tatertots. She lives in
North Carolina in a very, very small town with Hot Builder and their two
children.
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