The 15 Lb. Matchmaker. Jill Limber
“Ms. Carleton?”
His deep voice rolled over her like a fog across Puget Sound.
Startled, Jolie nodded and swallowed. “Yes?”
Griff took a minute to take in the whole package. What the heck was a beautiful woman dressed like this doing in Harry’s Diner?
“My name’s Griff Price. I have a proposition for you.” He didn’t miss the way her big brown eyes widened at his choice of words.
“How do you do, Mr. Price?” Her speech was careful and polite, her expression wary.
Sleek and sophisticated, she reminded him of a Thoroughbred horse. Generations of carefully chosen bloodlines came together to produce a woman this magnificent. Good bone structure, sleek hair, clear eyes, fine skin and good muscle tone didn’t happen by accident.
He was pretty good at sizing up women. She didn’t look like a baby-sitter.
She looked like trouble.
Dear Reader,
With summer nearly here, it’s time to stock up on essentials such as sunblock, sandles and plenty of Silhouette Romance novels! Here’s our checklist of page-turners to keep your days sizzling!
Be sure to come back next month for our list of great summer stories.
Happy reading!
Mary-Theresa Hussey
Senior Editor
The 15 lb. Matchmaker
Jill Limber
To Jack—my personal hero.
I love you, forever and always.
JILL LIMBER
lives in San Diego with her husband. Now that her children are grown, their two dogs keep her company while she sits at her computer writing stories. A native Californian, she enjoys the beach, loves to swim in the ocean, and for relaxation she daydreams and reads romances. Visit her at www.JillLimber.com!
Contents
Chapter One
Today might qualify as the worst day of Jolie Carleton’s life. If you didn’t count last Saturday, when she’d been left standing at the altar in front of three hundred people.
Being jilted had left her more embarrassed than hurt. She’d had second thoughts about her intended for weeks. If she’d had the backbone to speak up it wouldn’t have happened at all. It hadn’t taken her long to recognize the incident as a major wake-up call.
Jolie sighed and stabbed at the remains of a piece of cheesecake. Saturday night she’d made a vow to live with courage, to do something outrageous every day and get a life, but so far fate seemed to be testing her. Getting a life was proving to be harder than she imagined.
Glumly she watched the sunset paint the sky with streaks of orange and purple behind Winslow’s Garage across the street and tried to ignore the diner’s other customers, who watched her with open curiosity.
The smell of fried onions hung in the warm air, and the waitresses wore pink nylon uniforms with their name tags pinned over a fan of starched hankie. Ever since her car had been towed into Billings, Montana, Jolie had the strangest feeling she had entered a time warp.
She heard the door to the diner slap closed and looked up to see a blond version of the Marlboro Man talking to her waitress. Her breath caught in her chest as she fumbled her fork.
Over six feet tall, he had the wardrobe and the build of the icon plastered all over magazines. His broad shoulders filled out a worn sheepskin jacket, and his long legs were covered by blue jeans. He took off his cowboy hat and ran a broad hand through sun-bleached blond hair.
She exhaled a sigh of pleasure. He was eye candy at its finest.
He nodded at the cashier and smiled, displaying a set of even white teeth. Tanned skin crinkled at the corners of his deep-blue eyes, and a dimple dented one cheek. Drop-dead