A new kind of love story about flipping houses, taking risks, and landing that special someone who"s move-in ready"
SHE"S GOT CURB APPEAL
Rian Sutter grew up with the finer things in life. Spending summers in The Hamptons was a normal occurrence for her until her parents lost everything years ago. Now Rian and her sister are getting their life, and finances, back on track through real estate. Not only do they buy and sell houses to the rich and famous, but they finally have the capital to flip their very own beachfront property. But when she inadvertently catches the attention of a sexy stranger who snaps up every house from under her, all bets are off"
HE"S A FIXER UPPER
Pierce Whitfield doesn"t normally demo kitchens, install dry wall, or tear apart a beautiful woman"s dreams. He"s just a down-on-his-luck lawyer who needed a break from the city and agreed to help his brother work on a few homes in the Hamptons. When he first meets Rian, the attraction is undeniable. But when they start competing for the same pieces of prime real estate, the early sparks turn into full-blown fireworks. Can these passionate rivals turn up the heat on their budding romance " without burning down the house"
I FLIPPING LOVE YOU, set in the Shacking Up world, follows two people, both working in real estate, who find themselves vying for the same properties in the Hamptons, leading to a sometimes-not-so-friendly competition.Books in Series:Shacking Up Series by Helena HuntingBooks by Author:Helena Hunting Books
ANGRY HOT GUY
I flip through my stack of flyers, checking for a sale on the jumbo box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch cereal so I can price match it. I"m a conscientious price matcher. I mark the sale with a big circle before tucking the red Sharpie into the front of my shirt. If I"m going to wheel and deal at the cash register, I want to make it as easy as possible for the cashier and the people in line behind me. Nothing is worse than getting stuck behind an unorganized price matcher.
I shimmy a little to the song playing over the store intercom as I toss boxes of my most favorite, unhealthy cereal in my cart. A prickly feeling climbs the back of my neck, and I shiver, glancing over my shoulder. A mom rushes past me down the aisle, her toddler leaning precariously out of the cart in an attempt to grab a box of Fruit Roll-Ups. I can"t blame him. They are artificially delicious.
But the mom-toddler combo isn"t the reason for the prickly feeling. Halfway down the aisle is a suit. A big suit. Well over six feet of man wrapped in expensive charcoal-gray fabric. He doesn"t have a cart or a basket. And he"s staring at me. Weird. I can"t look at him long enough to decide if he"s familiar or not without making it obvious that I"m staring back.
I have the urge to check my appearance, worried I have his attention because my hair is a mess, or there"s a sweat stain down the center of my back. I"m not particularly appealing at the moment. I"ve just come from a boot camp class at this new gym my twin sister forced me to try out.
Marley bought an online two-for-one coupon for forty bucks, so now I have to attend six of these stupid classes with her. I managed to get out of last week"s class, but she wouldn"t let me escape two weeks in a row. My tank is still dewy, post-exertion, I have terrible under-boob sweat, and my thong is all wonky. If I were alone in this aisle, I"d for sure fix the last issue, but suit guy is here so I must leave the thong where it is for now, wedged uncomfortably between my vagina lips.
The suit quickly shifts his attention to the shelves and picks up the jar directly in front of him, which happens to contain prunes. He inspects it, then maybe realizes what it is, because he rushes to return it, exchanging it for another item. I bite back a smile, pleased that even in my disgusting state I"m being checked out.
As suit man gives the shelf in front of him his full attention, I return the checkout favor. His attire and his posture scream money and a twinge of something like longing combined with jealousy makes my throat momentarily tight. At one time, price matching was a practice I would"ve laughed at"like an entitled jerk"now it"s a necessity.
Suit man must be warm, considering it"s late April and we"re experiencing temperatures far above average for this time of year. Based on the tapered fit of his suit, I"m guessing it"s a high-end brand. He"s complemented it with black patent leather shoes. Very impractical for this weather and location. Does he realize he"s in the Hamptons"
He"s wearing a watch, and from his profile, he can"t be much beyond his early thirties. I have to assume the only reason for the watch is because it"s expensive and he wants to show it off. In my head, I"ve already profiled him as a pretentious, rich prick who probably commutes to NYC a few times a week where he bones his secretary and has a penthouse with the barest of furniture. The rest of the time he works from home.
I return to shopping and continue down the aisle, in the opposite direction of the suit"it"s my way of finding out if he"s actually creeping on me or not. I keep tabs on him in my peripheral vision as I scope out more sales and more delicious, unhealthy food items. My job is to balance out all the fruit and vegetables my sister, Marley, is currently picking out in the produce section.
I grab a jar of the no-name peanut butter since we"re out and the good stuff isn"t on sale, dropping it in the cart. My phone keeps buzzing in my purse. It"s distracting, so I give up ignoring it and check my messages.
It"s my sister.
We"re in the same store. It"s not particularly huge, so I don"t know what could be so pressing that she needs to text four thousand times instead of finding me.
Meet me in parking lot
Jeez. What the heck is going on" Maybe the grocery store is being robbed. Holy Hot Pockets. What if there is a grocery store heist going down" I"m about to abandon my cart in a bid to find Marley and escape the mayhem I"ve created in my head. It"s all very dramatic. As I turn, I come face-to-face with the suit.