Read Online Summer at Seaside Cove by Jacquie D'Alessandro - Free Book Online Page A

raindrops falling on me and the Stairs of Death? Not tempting.”
    Good. But then his damn conscience kicked him in the ass and he heaved a sigh. Clearly it was the lack of food and caffeine that had him feeling sorry for her. If he didn’t get a cup of coffee and some food in him soon, he was going to black out.
    â€œLook,” he said, giving in to his sense of fair play, “the weather’s supposed to be good for the next couple of days. I’ll start work today on the stairs—shouldn’t take me more than a few hours to make the repairs. Then I’ll start on the roof.”
    She chewed on her lower lip, drawing his attention to her mouth. Damn, that was one gorgeous mouth. Full, pink lips . . . he was definitely a lip man. He was just contemplating whether those lips would taste like cookies when she said, “Well?”
    He forced his gaze up to hers and her expression made it clear he’d dropped the conversational ball. “Well what?”
    â€œYou’ll have the roof done before it rains again?”
    â€œI can’t predict the weather—all I can say is that I’ll try.”
    â€œAnd the shower curtain?”
    â€œI’ll pick one up, along with the hanging things, when I hit Home Depot.”
    â€œThere’s a Home Depot around here?”
    He couldn’t recall ever hearing a woman sound so hopeful about a Home Depot. “Yeah. It’s about ten miles down Route 4. Next to the Piggly Wiggly.”
    Interest flared in her eyes. He wasn’t sure if it was directed at him or Home Depot or the Piggly Wiggly, but either way, heat zoomed through him. “You have a car?” she asked.
    â€œA pickup. Why?”
    â€œLooks like we’re going to be neighbors.”

Chapter 4
    J amie climbed into the passenger seat of Nick Trent’s pickup truck—a vehicle she never would have believed was his given its spotless, shiny black exterior and equally pristine interior. She would’ve bet a month’s rent his vehicle would have been in the same deplorable condition as Paradise Lost. Good thing she didn’t like to gamble.
    As he buckled his seat belt in preparation of heading to the shopping mecca that contained Home Depot—aka the store that would save Paradise Lost—and Piggly Wiggly—aka the supermarket that would save her and Cupcake from starvation and her pet from the roasting pan litter box—she found herself unable to stop taking surreptitious peeks at Nick from the corner of her eye. And she couldn’t figure out why .
    Men who looked like the morning after a rough night had never appealed to her before. She’d always been attracted to neat, orderly, clean-cut men. But for reasons she couldn’t understand, Nick Trent had grabbed her attention the instant he’d opened his door, with his bare chiseled chest and rockhard abs, and those darn unbuttoned jeans. Who answered the door like that? He’d looked like his bender had ended with a hedonistic orgy. For all she knew, there’d been some tramp sleeping off a hangover in his bed. All reasons for her to be completely turned off and to utterly ignore him.
    Instead, even her righteous anger hadn’t been able to keep her thoughts completely on the matter at hand, and throughout their conversation, part of her brain had uncharacteristically and really annoyingly kept wandering off track, distracting her with whispers of Whoa, he is steaming hot! and Hmmmm . . . could his hair feel as thick and soft as it looks? and Wow—what a gorgeous mouth. Wonder if he knows how to use it for anything besides sucking down alcohol? Her fingers had practically itched with the urge to reach out and pull his fascinatingly half-mast fly the rest of the way down, er, up . She meant up. Absolutely up.
    The fact that he’d distracted her for even a nanosecond had royally irked her. He was Pain in the Ass Number One and she had every right to be pissed off