Queen of organization Avalon Reece is a closet chaotic. She’s rebelled against a childhood of wanderlust with a hippie mother by striving to maintain order in her life. Everything has a place and she means to see it there. For her, love is messy and she avoids it at all costs. Until she accept a consulting job with Will to put his life in order.Will sees beyond the straightlaced, orderly woman to the free-spirit Avalon tries hard to hide. That’s the woman he wants, in spite of how it might impact his business.
“Why would I want to take my laptop home with me?” He
gave her a sideways glance, like he was afraid of how she’d respond. With his
head cocked slightly, a shock of his dark hair flopped into his eyes. The
sunlight streamed from straight overhead, and his long, thick lashes cast
shadows on his tanned cheeks.
Gorgeous didn’t begin to describe him. Avalon licked
her lips. “In case you want to watch porn?” She slapped a hand over her mouth
as warmth rushed into her cheeks. Please
let an earthquake strike right this minute and open a fissure wide enough to
Will laughed. “I have a big screen TV in my bedroom.
Why in the world would I use a tiny laptop to watch porn?”
“Oh, God. I’m so sorry. That was highly unprofessional
of me. I don’t know what got into me. You probably don’t even watch . . .” She
wasn’t going to say porn again. Her palms started sweating and she rubbed her
hands on her jeans.
Will tracked her movement, then met her gaze. Heat and
hunger vied for dominance in his eyes. “I do, but I probably shouldn’t admit
it. You’re very cute when you blush. I think I’ll try to get you to do it more
“Will, please. I’m trying to be professional. I know I
didn’t make the best impression there, but I’m trying. Besides, there’s Penny.”
“Hold up!” He stopped as she took a couple more steps.
When she looked back, his arms were crossed over his chest, the muscles of his
biceps straining his plaid shirt. “What do you mean, ‘there’s Penny?’”
“She’s your girlfriend. I’d never—”
“Penny isn’t my girlfriend.”
“But . . . she’s gone out of her way to mention on a
couple of occasions that you’ve been in a relationship for quite a while.”
“No. Penny has never been, nor will never be, my
girlfriend.” His lips pressed together tightly and a muscle ticked in his jaw
before he muttered, “I told Drake I’d regret letting Penny redecorate the
Hope floated in her chest, but she stuck the sharp
point of reality in it, deflating it like a burst balloon. He was still a
client. “Oh, my mistake. She just led me to believe you two were an item.”
“She’s not my type at all. Too . . . artsy. Believe it
or not, the girl doesn’t have nearly enough structure in her life to be
appealing to me.” Will grasped her wrist and towed her along.
“So you like a woman who believes in order.”
“Didn’t say that necessarily. I don’t mind a bit of
chaos amid my order.”
Gemma’s favorite desk accessories for many years were a circular wooden token, better known as a ’round tuit,’ and a slip of paper from a fortune cookie proclaiming her a lover of words; some day she’d write a book. All it took was a transfer to the United Kingdom, the lovely English springtime, and a huge dose of homesickness to write her first novel. Once it was completed and sent off with a kiss, even the rejections addressed to ‘Dear Author’ were gratifying.
After returning to America, she spent a number of years as a copywriter, dedicating her skills to making insurance and the agents who sell them sound sexy. Eventually, her full-time job as a writer interfered with her desire to be a writer full-time and she left the world of financial products behind to pursue a vocation as a romance author.