Do you love small towns, cute meets, and romantic comedy? Then, this is your book. Read it free, then post a review. On iTunes, Goodreads, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, your blog, etc. ( Not all, of them, of course.)
Her desire to be a big-name mystery author is going nowhere faster than the beer on tap at the local bar where she works to pay the bills. So far, all she's gotten is groped by the patrons and a reputation for telling tall tales.
When she overhears risky info about jewel thieves, no one believes her except for the sexy newcomer to their small town, Killian.
As the handsome stranger tantalizes her, giving her hope for more than her current constricting life, there are two things which stand in her way: The townspeople calling her a compulsive liar and Killian's aversion to bending the truth.
Oh, and the possibility she'll die before her growing attraction blossoms.
“Sorry, bro.” The unknown man muttered as he strode to the door.
Killian had already reached across his body for the shoulder upholster that wasn’t there. Thank God for that, his rapid-fire reactions might have caused an incident in the sleepy town. His eyes squeezed shut as he took a deep breath, trying to quell his fight or flight response. His reaction veered to fight nine out of ten times. It would probably be best to leave. He exhaled and opened his eyes to an attractive brunette attired in a referee shirt complete with a silver whistle.
The woman smiled at him. “Can I help you?”
He blinked. Did he need her to officiate at a pickup softball game? The televisions, the bar, the name Sweaty’s, and the bizarre referee outfit all added up to sports bar. It should worry him that it took him so long to add up the clues. Even though he took a bullet to the thigh, his brain took the biggest hit. He might as well give up his Man Card if it took him seconds to register the second home of most men, the sports bar. Killian managed a tight smile.
“Well, I was hoping to get something to eat, but it looks pretty crazy.”
The woman wrinkled her nose. “It’s a little bit, but most of the customers are drivers that popped in for the rally. The majority already settled up their bills and should be headed out to the track to warm up before tonight’s race. I can get you a seat next to the kitchen if you don’t mind?” She gestured with the hand holding her order pad to a small table against the wall and next to the kitchen door.
“Suits me.” It did, since his back would be against the wall. He exhaled heavily, knowing he shored up the cop stereotype by wanting to have a wall behind him. He backed into parking places for a quick getaway too when possible. Not all stereotypical behavior was a bad thing. Some were more of a survival mechanism.
He allowed the cute waitress to lead the way while his eyes dipped briefly to how well she filled out her shorts. Killian brought his eyes up fast not wanting her to catch him ogling. Some labels he didn’t want. At the table, the woman handed him a menu, but he handed it back. No need to look when he knew what he wanted. He peered at her nametag, which was pinned to a noteworthy chest. Why did women do that and then accuse men of staring at their breasts?
“Darcy, I know what I want.”
The woman shifted her weight on her feet and flushed a little, which puzzled him.
“What would that be?” She held her pen over the order pad.
“Burger platter. The biggest one you have with fries. Beer. Anything on tap, except light.”
She dashed the pencil across the pad before reading the order back. “One Come to Daddy combo with fries and onion rings. Beer on tap.” She lifted her eyebrows.
“Yeah. Sounds good. Not too sure about the name though.”
His comment surprised a chuckle out of Darcy.
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