I"ve always had a thing for the boy next door Nash
All six-foot-four of him. With his dreamy blue eyes and dark hair.
And by dreamy, I mean I dreamt of him. A lot.
Of the dirty things he would whisper in my ear.
Of his hands roaming my body, making me feel sexy and beautiful.
But dreaming was all I had.
Until one small town party and my crazy aunt turned my life upside down.
Now I"m his accidental wife.
I should still keep my distance, I"ve had enough of people with questionable motives.
Except, I want everything that comes with being Nash"s wife.
I"ve always had a thing for curvy Viviana
She was feisty, she was sassy. She had a body I wanted to feel against mine.
I need to taste her skin, to hear her moan my name.
But she was also totally off limits.
As a single dad I can"t afford to risk my daughter"s heart on another woman.
Especially since she was our neighbor.
And my friend.
But one night changed everything.
Vivi and I are now accidentally married.
And I"m desperately trying to figure out how to make this accident… permanent.Books by Author:Piper Sullivan Books
Being back in my hometown was not at all how I imagined it would be. The one thing that never changed was the unique sound that gave Belle Musique its name. On the outskirts of New Orleans, Belle Musique was named after the melodic sounds of the Mississippi snaking between the tall blades of blue wild rye grass. A fact every child raised in the town learned by the time they reached seven years old. Me included.
It"s funny how all that information came rushing back as soon as I crossed into town limits. In Chicago, I had no reason to know things like what types of grass grew between the cracks in the sidewalk, because that was the only place I"d really seen grass in all the years I spent there. My attention had been on things like my grad school "friends" stealing and then selling my business from right under me. And then I"d spent all my energy on the five-year legal battle to dissolve the company and have them pay me my fair share.
The money was nice, but truthfully, I would have been happier to see them have to return the money to the billionaire playboy who"d bought the biz off them. Instead I had to be content with twenty million in the bank. Don"t get me wrong, I was content with the money, it gave me the freedom to figure out what I wanted to do with my life.
It turns out that the rat race wasn"t for me, at all. But writing erotic romance was indeed my jam. Yep, while I was spending a fortune on lawyers who were happy to use every dirty trick in the book to win my case, I wrote three erotic romance novels that became kind of a big deal. But a year after the third one was published, book four still sat on my laptop with a scant fifty pages to it.
I was blocked.
And exhausted mentally.
So I decided to pack up my life in Chicago and bring myself and my brown bunny, Lollipop, back home to Belle Musique to get my mojo back. But a week inside the beautiful yellow plantation-style home with not one, but two wraparound porches, and I had a whopping fifty two pages written. Yep, two whole pages added to my masterpiece.
Too many years spent in the city meant I concentrated on too many indoor activities, namely, work. That"s why I"d chosen a property on the edge of town with plenty of space between neighbors. There were just two other houses on the block and one was vacant, at least according to the chatty realtor I spoke with over the phone. Now that I was away from Chicago and back in the sticky bayou heat, I planned to do more things outside, like tend to my salsa garden.
I"d always wanted a garden, and even though my pale skin was beginning to bubble under the New Orleans sun, I was determined to make sure that by the end of summer I could make my own homemade salsa. I probably should have researched to see if June was too late to start a garden, but the seeds and baby plants were in the earth now and it was too late to change it.
It was kind of soothing, actually, gardening. Digging my fingers in the dirt to create something stimulated another part of my brain, the one that allowed me to start to sketch out more of my novel, Sweeter Nothings.
But I was tired of thinking of all the things I hadn"t done yet, so I cranked up Aerosmith and focused on my new plants and the flowers planted by the previous owners. It was something I could deal with. Something I could accomplish, and as the minutes ticked by, I started to feel more relaxed. More settled, as I pictured how the yard would look when I finished it. There would be a large tented gazebo that I could sit under and write, with a pitcher of iced tea or hard lemonade at my side, and a solar charger within reach at all times. That way I"d make the most of my yard and the hot sticky Louisiana weather.
But the weeds, they tended to get the better of amateur gardeners like myself, and I ended up ass deep in fresh soil.
A gasp sounded behind me. "You have a potty mouth!"
I turned to find a little girl with wild black curls, big blue eyes, and the deepest dimples I"d ever seen. "Yeah" Well, you"re kind of nosy."
She giggled and came closer. "I"m Norah."
I"d never spent much time around kids before, but she was straightforward and well-mannered. So far. "Nice to meet you, kid. I"m Viviana. Do you live around here""
She nodded and pointed vaguely behind her. "Why were you swearing""
"Because I was frustrated that those weeds wouldn"t come out of the ground, and swearing made me feel better. Besides, I"m a grown-up. I"m allowed to swear."