Title: Love On A Summer Night Series: Pine Harbour
Author: Zoe York
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Day Blitz: November 24
Hosted by: S.B.B. Promotions
Never say never. Especially not to a determined bad boy.
Zander Minelli is exactly the wrong kind of man. He’s dark, dangerous, and knows far too much about sawed-off shotguns.
Faith Davidson finds him irresistible. The widowed single mother knows she should dip her toe back in the dating pool with someone solid and dependable. Definitely no tattoos. But every time she looks up, the brooding soldier is watching her, and she can’t help but wonder what it would be like to let herself have a taste…
Small town summer nights have never been hotter—and one transplanted city-girl’s heart has never been more fragile.
This book is the fourth story in the Pine Harbour series, but can be read as a standalone romance. The main characters were introduced in the previous books. No cliffhanger.
Book 4 in the acclaimed Pine Harbour series!
#1 - Love in a Small Town - Rafe and Olivia
#2 - Love in a Snow Storm - Jake and Dani
#3 - Love on a Spring Morning - Ryan and Holly
#4 - Love on a Summer Night - Zander and Faith
“Okay.” She grinned at him, and the answer felt totally right. With one caveat. “I’d love to have lunch with you again. But just as friends.”
He gave her a look of pure disbelief. Yeah, she got that.
The chemistry between them was off the charts. She didn’t want to just be friends and he knew it.
But it was all she could handle from a guy who was disappearing in a few days.
He shrugged and his t-shirt bunched up, stretching wide around the top of his biceps. He tugged on the collar, revealing another slice of tattoo. Every time she saw him, his t-shirts were like this, worn and tugged on, like he just couldn’t find any that fit his body properly in the store.
Well, that made sense—there was no comparing Zander to the average man that t-shirts were designed for.
This was no khaki-wearing, minivan-driving, rectangular-torsoed man. Lean through the middle, but impossibly broad across his shoulders, she imagined that the only shirts that would properly fit him would need to be custom made. And Zander wasn’t the type of guy to be that vain.
Not that she was complaining. The bunching and stretching that should make the t-shirt look ill-fitting did the exact opposite. It highlighted his muscular build. Hugged his strong arms and smoothed proudly across his impressive chest.
And most of all, it said, this guy doesn’t preen. Zander got up, put his fucking shirt on, and went about his day.
That was obvious and she loved it far too much. Another reason she needed this boundary.
He narrowed his eyes at her. “What are you thinking?”
He grinned. “You were checking me out.”
“I was thinking your t-shirts never fit.”
“Sounds like the same thing.”
She laughed. “You’re incorrigible.”
“I hear that’s a good trait to have in a friend.”
“Tell me more.”
“Haven’t you ever met someone and just wanted to know more about them?”
Yes. Again with that stupid tug deep in her belly. “I’m not that interesting.”
“I find that hard to believe.” His voice rumbled with barely restrained laughter.
Saved by the child. She turned toward the climber and raised her voice. “Yes?”
“Will you push me on the swing?”
“Yep!” She started moving in that direction, walking backward so she could say goodbye to Zander. “Sorry, Mom duty calls.”
He didn’t take the hint. “That’s okay. I’ll join you. I’m not in any hurry.”
“Oh. I…” What? Wanted him to go away? That would be a bald-faced lie. Didn’t know how to handle his interest? That was certainly true, but not something she wanted to admit.
She blinked as he sauntered around her, coming close enough that his shoulder brushed hers as he passed. She pivoted on her heel, her breath shallow in her chest as she tried hard not to pant at the view of Zander’s ass encased in denim.
Ooooh, this was a mistake.
A beautiful, beautiful mistake.
He looked over his shoulder at her, and the way the sun backlit him as he stood between her and the swing set made him look like a fallen angel. Dark, growly, full of attitude. Perfect.
He settled between her legs, not grinding—just there. Hard and ready. More teasing.
She was going to explode from the delayed gratification. Lifting her hips, she took on the task of remedying that herself.
At the first roll of her hips, Zander paused his worship of her breasts. At the second, he redoubled his efforts, helping her get right to the brink—then he reared up and reached for the waistband of her jeans.
She wanted to be naked with Zander more than anything else in the world.
But even under the cover of darkness, she realized she wasn’t quite ready for Zander to see her naked.
She grabbed at his wrists and tried to pull him back down on top of her. Maybe they could just dry hump. That had been hotter than it sounded. It had been hotter than her fantasies, and she was a writer with a pretty expansive vocabulary and a deep understanding of the dirty side of the Internet.
He wouldn’t be deterred. His fingers slid beneath her waistband, making her soft tummy quiver, and not in a good way. Okay, mostly a good way with just an edge of fear. But she still pushed at his hands.
He gave her an amused look. “Stop batting my hands away. I want to feel it when you come.”
She sighed, suddenly nervous, and he gave her another look, this time one of dawning awareness. She tipped her head back. The stars were so bright tonight. “I’ve got battle scars,” she whispered. “Stretch marks and a c-section incision that didn’t heal properly. You’ve only seen the good bits.”
Zander settled back on the blanket beside her and nuzzled into her neck. “Seriously? You don’t think I’ve got scars? Let’s go toe to toe.”
“Yours are different.” He was beautiful. All sculpted muscle and delicious shadows. “New plan. I’m going to touch you.”
“Be my guest.” His voice was low and rough, like a tumble of falling rocks. Danger, her heart thumped. He rolled away from her and pulled off his t-shirt, baring the tattoos that had caused her so much anxiety just a few days earlier. The flickering light from the fire caught the edge of a raised scar on his rib cage, and she sucked in a breath as she reached out and traced the knotted tissue that looked suspiciously like a slash in his skin.
“What happened?” she asked in a quick rush, then shook her head. “No. I don’t think I want to know.”
“You don’t. But it’s okay, I’m alive and here. That’s all that matters.”
I’m a busy working mom of two young boys, and for as long as I can remember, I have been a voracious romance reader. In early 2012, I got an idea for a novel. Then another, and another. My Google Drive account exploded with outlines and chunks of text and character bibles.
Over Christmas, I started a holiday novella. By the end of January, it was clear I was going to wander past novella length, and the story wasn’t limited to the holiday season. And it wasn’t just one book, anymore – it was also an introduction to a small town, Wardham.
Two years later, I can’t believe how much my life has changed. I published my tenth book earlier this fall, and have been blessed to be involved in the bestselling SEALs of Summer and SEALs of Winter boxed sets with some of my favourite authors.
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