G I V E A W A Y   E N D E D

Synopsis:

It’s hard to keep a big secret in a small town . . .

When Paige Hollister discovers her “Mr. Right” already has a “Mrs. Right,” she swears off men forever. Even more humiliating, she suddenly finds herself labeled the other woman and out of the teaching job she loves. So Paige does what every unemployed single woman staring thirty in the face does: She hightails it to the beach. Bad luck like hers is hard to outrun, however. Her getaway is stalled when her car breaks down in a small-town chock full of meddling, nosy residents. The worst of them being the local sheriff—none other than her estranged father.

Finally on top of the golf world, Tanner Gillette is poised to show everyone he’s not just an entitled playboy coasting through tournaments on his pedigree. That is until his life is turned upside down by a little girl who shows up on his doorstep with a birth certificate inexplicably bearing his name. Complicating matters more, the kid isn’t talking. When the stress of caring for a child whose mother is AWOL gives Tanner a bad case of the yips, he’s forced to enlist help from the one person in town who can’t wait to leave.

Sticking around Chances Inlet and her father’s shiny new, über-successful family isn’t on Paige’s to-do list. Especially when she’d prefer to keep her embarrassing incident under wraps. Yet she can’t walk away from the troubled little girl. Or the sexy Australian golfer who just might make her want to take a chance on trusting her heart again.

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EXCERPTS:

Excerpt #1:
She snatched up one of the beach-reads she’d brought from home. The well-worn paperback was one of her “comfort” books. Part of a Victorian era romance series featuring a group of wallflowers trying to find love. The familiar words kept swimming on the page, however, before Paige finally slammed it closed.

“There’s more to life than finding a man, sister,” Paige mumbled. Sighing heavily, she smacked her head against the pillows. “Yet another thing Jon ruined for me. Romance novels.”

She was about to reach for the TV remote when a sound from Whitney’s room caught her attention. Flipping back the covers, she listened intently for it to come again.

“It was probably something outside,” she told herself.

Except it wasn’t. Whitney was crying out in her sleep. And it sounded like she was calling for her mother. Paige raced through the bathroom and into the adjoining bedroom. Whitney was tossing and turning as sobs wracked her small body. As sweet as it was to finally hear the girl’s voice, Paige was devastated by her cries.

“Shh.” Paige crawled into the bed, gathering Whitney up beside her. “Shh,” she repeated. “Everything is going to be okay. You’re safe. I’m here.”

Whitney’s gulping sobs eventually subsided. She curled against Paige, remarkably, still fast asleep. Paige rubbed the girl’s back, softly whispering reassurances. She wiped Whitney’s tear-stained cheeks with the sheet. Within minutes, the child was sleeping peacefully.

A noise in the doorway alerted Paige they were not alone. She looked up to see a shadow of a man illuminated by the hallway lights. After resettling Gladys in Whitney’s arms, Paige replaced her own body with a pillow. She waited a moment to make sure Whitney was settled before slipping out into the hallway where Tanner waited.

A shirtless Tanner.

“She okay?” he whispered.

Paige picked a spot beyond his muscled shoulder where she could fix her gaze to avoid openly drooling at the man.

“Mmhmm,” she answered with a nod.

He took a step closer. “Are you okay?”

She wanted to be blasé and mature, but she wasn’t that skilled at playing it cool. The man’s chest was a freaking work of art. And who knew golfers had six-pack abs? Weren’t they supposed to be pot-bellied or some damn thing? It was the trail of dark hair disappearing beneath his flannel joggers that sent her over the edge.

“Could you—” She wiggled her fingers in the direction of his chest. “Could you cover that up, please?”

He looked at her as though she’d just asked him to shoot a hole-in-one on the moon. Then he chuckled sadistically before turning on his heel and padding down the long hallway leading to his bedroom.

“Water.” Paige fanned herself. “I need some water.”

Hurrying to the kitchen, she filled a glass using the dispenser on the refrigerator door. She was gulping down its contents when Tanner reappeared. Thankfully, he was wearing a T-shirt with what looked like German writing on it. A pair of sheepskin moccasins covered his feet.

“I’ve got something stronger in my study,” he said when he walked past, presumably on his way there.

A smarter woman would have returned to her bed and listened for signs Whitney might be having another nightmare.

Excerpt #2:
Tanner was already halfway to her when his brain kicked in, reminding him that this was unwise. He was supposed to be avoiding Paige. He couldn’t be trusted around her. But he couldn’t retreat now. Not when he could feel the eyes of every woman at the pool tracking him.

Make that every woman except Paige Hollister. She was too engrossed in her book to notice. 

“Where’s Whitney?” he practically barked when he tossed down his towel onto the chaise next to her. 

Paige jolted at the sound of his voice before pulling her sunglasses down and eyeballing him. “She and Emily went joyriding in your golf cart.”

“Not funny.” Her snark had him relaxing. He needn’t be worried about Whitney. Paige took her role very seriously. Likely, she was off with Kate and Emily somewhere. He stepped out of his slides before lowering himself down to the chair.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“That should be obvious.” He let out a satisfying sigh, crossed his bare feet at the ankles and closed his eyes. 

Paige huffed beside him. “Fine. Kate is taking the kids for lunch after visiting the sea turtle rescue hospital.” She shoved her book into a canvas bag. “I’ll just finish my book on the porch at home.”

Let her go, his brain screamed. The rest of him wasn’t listening, however. Without opening his eyes, his fingers reached between them, finding her wrist, gently encircling it.

“Stay,” he heard himself saying. Opening his eyes, he turned toward her. “Please,” he whispered, not liking the pleading tone of his voice one bit. 

Paige’s eyes leapt from his hand on her wrist, up to his face, only to drop back down to where her skin was scorching his. Judging by the wary expression on her face, she thought it was a bad idea, also. Still, she sank her teeth into her bottom lip before nodding.

Relief raced through him. He brushed the pad of his thumb against the pulse throbbing at her wrist. Time seemed to stand still.

“I’ve got your lunch, Mr. Gillette,” a voice from above announced.

Paige yanked her hand away. The server was holding a folding table, but he seemed unsure where to put it until Paige gestured wildly to place it between them. She grabbed a fry from the plate and popped it into her mouth before he’d even set it down.

“Mmm. Do you have any ketchup?”

The server produced several packets from his pocket. “Anything else, sir?”

Paige picked up half the club sandwich and unabashedly took a bite.

Tanner sighed. “Apparently I’m going to need another one of those.”

“And an Arnold Palmer,” Paige mumbled around the food in her mouth.

Tanner held up two fingers. The befuddled server nodded and disappeared. 

“Enjoying yourself?”

“Mmm,” she replied. “You might have mentioned lunch was part of the deal. I wouldn’t have been in such a rush to leave.”

He shook his head to avoid laughing at her cheekiness. “Thank you.”

She paused mid-bite. “Does that mean lunch is on me?”

This time he did laugh. “No. Thank you for staying.”

Her eyes darted away. Despite her outward bravado, she was skittish around him today. Not that he blamed her. He turned into a fool whenever he was near her.

The server brought their drinks. Paige swallowed half of hers in one gulp.

“I doubt you would have been lonely too long,” she said. 

“Precisely what I’m trying to avoid.”

She lowered her sunglasses again. “Are you telling me I’m the . . . what? Some sort of decoy?”

“It’s been my experience that women won’t approach me if I’ve got a beautiful woman by my side.”

Paige choked on a fry. Tanner leaned over to slap her on the back. She glared at him when he let his hand linger too long. 

“Puh-lease. I’m no competition for those women.” She waved a hand in the direction of the co-eds shimmying to an R&B song blasting from one of their mobile phones. 

Was she kidding?

How could this woman not know she was a stunner? He let his eyes wander down her torso, lush and full in all the right places. Her legs were sturdy and toned right down to the purple nail polish on her toes. But it was the challenge in those pale blue eyes of hers that always seemed to draw him in. That and her saucy, sinful mouth. 

“Why do women always do that?” 

“Do what?”

“Put themselves down. Find fault with their appearance no matter how gorgeous they are.”

Her mouth opened and closed twice. “Well—” 

“No,” he argued. “Don’t you dare shame your body, Paige Hollister. It’s magnificent just the way it is. You are beautiful just the way you are. Any man who doesn’t see that is a damn fool.”

Author Bio:

USA Today bestselling author Tracy Solheim writes books with shirtless men on the cover. Some of them are actually best-sellers. The books, not the men. When she’s not writing, she’s practicing her curling. . . bottles of wine, that is. She’s been known to cook dinner but no more than two nights in a row. Most days, she’d rather be reading, which to her is just necessary research. She lives in the suburbs of Atlanta with her husband and a neurotic Labrador retriever. Her two adult children visit but not often enough. (See the note above about cooking.) Check out her romantic suspense series featuring the Men of the Secret Service–shirtless, of course! See what she’s up to at http://www.tracysolheim.com

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