Want Me Always(Heron Harbor #1)
by Lea Nolan
ebook, 1, 190 pages
Published April 21st 2020 by Lea Nolan
ASINB085T4B2B9
Her mind says no…
Wren Donovan’s done with love. Betrayed and humiliated by her ex-fiancé, she retreats to her family’s beach house on Heron Harbor Island to lick her wounds and gorge herself on ice cream, spray cheese, and a box of glazed donuts. Wren vows to devote herself to her law career and swears off men forever, but she isn’t prepared for what being reunited with her oldest friend makes her feel…
His heart says yes, please…
Smith Connors can’t believe his eyes when Wren walks into his restaurant. He’s loved her since they were kids, when summertime found them inseparable best friends. As a boy, he’d never felt good enough for Wren. But now he’s a rising-star chef with a thriving business who knows what he wants—which means he’s not letting beautiful, brilliant Wren get away again.
Smith determines to show Wren how good they could be together, and soon neither of them can resist the heat growing between them. He’d do anything to earn her faith—and her heart, if only she could learn to trust again.
Excerpt:
He was trying to tease her. And dammit, it was working.
It wasn't fair. Wren had admitted her attraction and Smith was using it against her. It was time to turn the tables.
They put the finishing touches on the last wall, then turned to face each other.
"You've got a little paint." Smith pointed to a small white dot on her T-shirt that she already knew was there.
"Well, you've got a lot of paint." Wren swiped her still wet brush across his broad chest.
His eyelids stretched wide. "Did you really just do that?"
She nodded. "Uh huh. And guess what? I'm going to do it again." Wren swung the brush in the opposite direction, drawing a giant white X across his black T-shirt.
Smith's jaw dropped as he stared at his chest. "This is one of my favorite shirts."
Oops. That might have been a mistake. Nervous laughter bubbled up her throat. "Sorry?"
He lifted his head to meet her gaze. "Oh, it's on now." With a devilish glint in his eyes, he bent and scooped a handful of paint from the tray, then hurled it at her. It splattered her T-shirt and leggings.
"Aaah!" Wren squealed, then ran across the tarp and ducked behind the covered furniture in the center of the room.
"You think you can hide from me?" Smith laughed as he stalked toward her.
"Um...maybe?" she giggled, crouched behind the dresser.
He loomed over her, his hand filled with another pool of white paint. "Uh uh. You started this war, you've got to fight in it."
Wren stood, wearing her best sweet-and-innocent smile, the one she used when facing a particularly harsh judge in court.
"Truce?" she asked, her right hand tucked behind her back.
His lids narrowed. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't dump this on your head?"
"Because it would be really hard to wash out."
Smith exhaled. "That's fair." He slapped the paint on the tarp, then wiped his hand on the only dry spot left on his T-shirt.
Shaking her head, Wren clucked her tongue. "It isn't smart to disarm yourself before your opponent does." Rising on tiptoes, she pulled out the paintbrush she'd kept hidden behind her back and wiped it across his forehead.
Surprise flashed in his eyes. "You fight dirty."
She shrugged. "I am a lawyer."
"I'll show you dirty." In one smooth movement, Smith hoisted her up in his arms, and deposited her on the dresser top. Spreading her knees wide, he wedged himself between her legs and leaned in so far, she was nearly lying flat, propped on her elbows. A mischievous smile played on his lips. "That wasn't very nice."
"But it was funny."
Smith's eyes sparkled. "True, but you still deserve to be punished. What should your punishment be?" His hard length pressed against her. It was hot and hard and made her insides coil with need.
Wren swallowed. "It's never a good idea to ask the accused to set their own punishment. They always go too light. I'll leave it to you to decide."
Kiss me. Hard and rough. Then rip off my clothes and do whatever you want.
"Hmm, what do you deserve?" His gaze bore into her.
Her breath raged as electric energy sparked between them.
Smith's own fierce desire was written on his face. So what was he waiting for? All he had to do was dip his mouth to hers, then do all the things he'd promised last night.
Finally, his lips curled at the ends. "I've got it. But you're not going to like it."
Wren smirked. "Try me."
He was trying to tease her. And dammit, it was working.
It wasn't fair. Wren had admitted her attraction and Smith was using it against her. It was time to turn the tables.
They put the finishing touches on the last wall, then turned to face each other.
"You've got a little paint." Smith pointed to a small white dot on her T-shirt that she already knew was there.
"Well, you've got a lot of paint." Wren swiped her still wet brush across his broad chest.
His eyelids stretched wide. "Did you really just do that?"
She nodded. "Uh huh. And guess what? I'm going to do it again." Wren swung the brush in the opposite direction, drawing a giant white X across his black T-shirt.
Smith's jaw dropped as he stared at his chest. "This is one of my favorite shirts."
Oops. That might have been a mistake. Nervous laughter bubbled up her throat. "Sorry?"
He lifted his head to meet her gaze. "Oh, it's on now." With a devilish glint in his eyes, he bent and scooped a handful of paint from the tray, then hurled it at her. It splattered her T-shirt and leggings.
"Aaah!" Wren squealed, then ran across the tarp and ducked behind the covered furniture in the center of the room.
"You think you can hide from me?" Smith laughed as he stalked toward her.
"Um...maybe?" she giggled, crouched behind the dresser.
He loomed over her, his hand filled with another pool of white paint. "Uh uh. You started this war, you've got to fight in it."
Wren stood, wearing her best sweet-and-innocent smile, the one she used when facing a particularly harsh judge in court.
"Truce?" she asked, her right hand tucked behind her back.
His lids narrowed. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't dump this on your head?"
"Because it would be really hard to wash out."
Smith exhaled. "That's fair." He slapped the paint on the tarp, then wiped his hand on the only dry spot left on his T-shirt.
Shaking her head, Wren clucked her tongue. "It isn't smart to disarm yourself before your opponent does." Rising on tiptoes, she pulled out the paintbrush she'd kept hidden behind her back and wiped it across his forehead.
Surprise flashed in his eyes. "You fight dirty."
She shrugged. "I am a lawyer."
"I'll show you dirty." In one smooth movement, Smith hoisted her up in his arms, and deposited her on the dresser top. Spreading her knees wide, he wedged himself between her legs and leaned in so far, she was nearly lying flat, propped on her elbows. A mischievous smile played on his lips. "That wasn't very nice."
"But it was funny."
Smith's eyes sparkled. "True, but you still deserve to be punished. What should your punishment be?" His hard length pressed against her. It was hot and hard and made her insides coil with need.
Wren swallowed. "It's never a good idea to ask the accused to set their own punishment. They always go too light. I'll leave it to you to decide."
Kiss me. Hard and rough. Then rip off my clothes and do whatever you want.
"Hmm, what do you deserve?" His gaze bore into her.
Her breath raged as electric energy sparked between them.
Smith's own fierce desire was written on his face. So what was he waiting for? All he had to do was dip his mouth to hers, then do all the things he'd promised last night.
Finally, his lips curled at the ends. "I've got it. But you're not going to like it."
Wren smirked. "Try me."
About the Author:
Lea Nolan is a USA Today bestselling author who writes smart, witty contemporary stories filled with head-swooning, heart-throbbing, sweep-you-off your feet romance. She also pens books for young adults featuring bright heroines, crazy-hot heroes, diabolical plot twists, plus a dose of magic, a draft of romance, and a sprinkle of history.
Born and raised on Long Island, New York she loves the water far too much to live inland. With her heroically supportive husband and three brilliant children, she resides in Maryland where she cracks crabs and bakes ugly birthday cakes. http://www.leanolan.com
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