Maverick for Hire. Leanne Banks
“Okay,” Nick said. “Let’s replay this. Body language 101. When you want to show a man you’re interested, face him.” He paused. “Face me.”
“Oh,” she said and turned her body toward his.
“Flip your hair,” he said. “Guys like it when you mess with your hair,” he said.
Cecelia twirled a strand of her hair. “Is this okay?”
Nick felt a weird tug of attraction. “Yeah, that’s good. Remember to lean in and look like you’re listening to everything he’s saying,” he said.
Cecelia leaned in and twisted her hair again. “Like this?”
“Yeah,” he said and met her gaze. Something strange flashed between them. He felt drawn to her in a way he’d never felt before. He lowered his head. “Yeah,” he repeated and pressed his mouth against hers. Her lips were so soft, so sweet, and he wanted so much more.
Cecelia drew back. “You kissed me,” she whispered. “Why did you do that?”
“I don’t know,” he said, pulling back and mentally swearing at himself. Why had he kissed her? He had clearly gone crazy.
Maverick for Hire
Leanne Banks
LEANNE BANKS is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author who is surprised every time she realizes how many books she has written. Leanne loves chocolate, the beach and new adventures. To name a few, Leanne has ridden an elephant, stood on an ostrich egg (no, it didn’t break), gone parasailing and indoor skydiving. Leanne loves writing romance because she believes in the power and magic of love. She lives in Virginia with her family and a four-and-a-half-pound Pomeranian named Bijou. Visit her website, www.leannebanks.com.
This book is dedicated to my husband, who encouraged me through every day, no matter how unproductive I was.
Contents
Thank goodness she wasn’t attracted to him, Cecelia Clifton thought as she looked at Nick Pritchett. She’d known the carpenter for what felt like forever. They went all the way back to a shared childhood in Thunder Canyon. And now she frequently shared an after-work beer or water with him at the Ace in the Hole, the local backcountry bar in Rust Creek Falls, Montana. Built like a football player, Nick was all muscle. With blond hair and blue eyes full of humor and flirtatiousness, he wore his all-American looks with ease. Cecelia knew better than to fall for him, though. Nick had a good heart, but he wasn’t interested in marriage.
Cecelia tossed another dart at the board and smiled.
Nick groaned in pain. “Give me a break, Cece. A guy needs a win every now and then.”
“From what I hear, you’re winning all the time with all the women you have wrapped around your finger,” she said. Ever since Lissa Rourke, a volunteer with a charitable organization from New York, had blogged about the cowboys in Rust Creek after last summer’s Great Flood, a new type of visitor had been gracing the streets of town—young single ladies from around the country looking for love. As Lissa had spent time working hard to help Rust Creek Falls, she’d also found love with the local sheriff. Cecelia couldn’t deny part of the reason she’d come to Rust Creek was for a boost in her love life, but so far, she’d experienced zip in the romance department.
“Do you ever think about going back to Thunder Canyon?” she asked as she watched him send a dart soaring.
She noticed his dart landed closer to the bull’s-eye than hers had.
Nick frowned at her. “Why would I do that? Rust Creek is still bailing out from the big flood. Plus, they’ve welcomed me with open arms,” he said with a scalawag grin.
“Yes, they have,” Cecelia said drily and took her turn. She hit the closest to a bull’s-eye ever in this game.
Nick cursed under his breath. “You haven’t fallen in love with the town?”
“I have,” she said. “In a way.” She paused. “But...”
He glanced at her. “But what?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I came here with wide eyes with Jazzy. She’s married and super busy now. I feel, well...” She didn’t want to say the rest.
Cecelia and her best friend, Jasmine “Jazzy” Cates, had come to Rust Creek Falls together to find romance—and, of course, help the town with the recovery efforts after the flood the previous summer. Along the way, Jazzy had taken a job with local vet Brooks Smith. Their working relationship soon led to wedding bells. Only Cecelia knew the truth—that their quick vows were really a marriage of convenience, so that Brooks could convince his ailing father to let him take over the practice. Soon though, true love won out, and Brooks and Jazzy were as much in love as could be.
“Don’t tell me you were hoping for a Rust Creek cowboy,” Nick said.
“I was hoping for a fresh start and maybe a relationship,” she said and took a sip of her water. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing. Nothing,”