Book 4: When You Kiss Me
She’s a serious-minded academic…
Professor Violet Summer thinks of herself as the frumpy Summer sister who doesn’t go on adventures or fall for handsome strangers. Her idea of excitement is spending the summer at her family’s home in the Hamptons researching Shakespeare’s influence on modern literature.
He's made a vow to change his ways…
Texas oilman Cooper Pearson made a bet with his father that he could survive one summer without the family’s money or influence. Now he’s an anonymous hired-hand exercising horses at a Hamptons stable–far removed from his typical four-star summer vacation.
A chance meeting on the beach ignites a moment of excitement that Violet has experienced many times, but only in the musty pages she has studied. Will she have the courage to see how this real-life story ends?
If you enjoy secret identity movies like My Secret Billionaire or The Prince and Me, you’ll enjoy this full-length, clean romantic comedy with an HEA and no cliffhangers.
Excerpt:
Professor Violet Summer was happy with her life.
When she told that to her younger sister Maggie, who was a veterinarian and a jilted bride, Maggie laughed. They were behind their parents’ Hamptons house for Lily’s engagement party, walking toward the beach, each with a drink in hand. Maggie held a bottle of beer. Violet held a glass of sauvignon blanc. They sat down in the sand and stared at the ocean, squinting in the summer sun.
“We’re the last two single sisters standing.” Maggie sipped her beer. “We need to stand together.”
“I’m not looking for a man to complete me,” Vi told her. “I have research projects to conduct, papers to write, a name to make for myself.”
“Is that all? I’m looking for a man to take to Kitty’s wedding.” Maggie removed her sandals and pushed her bare feet in the sand. “You know their engagement is inevitable. And since I used to be engaged to Kitty’s groom, I need someone extra.”
Vi sipped her wine as a particularly loud wave crashed on the shore. She wore a blue silk tank top and sand-colored linen slacks but was wishing she was in shorts and a cotton T-shirt. “Extra what?”
“I don’t know. Rich, handsome, royal.” Maggie laughed. “That’s it. I want my own Prince Charming.”
Yikes, this could be bad. “Are you serious? Princes are hard to come by, Maggie. We get a few at Harvard.” But a very few and from such small kingdoms that a royal title was a bit sketchy.
“Get out.” Maggie bumped her shoulder against Violet’s. “Can you introduce me to one?”
She was serious.
“No. I don’t want to get in the matchmaking business. Remember me? Professor at Harvard?” Vi was certain matchmaking by the staff was frowned upon.
“Come on. One prince. For me. Please?” Maggie set her beer in the sand, laced her fingers, and propped her chin on her digits.
There was one man who might fit the bill, but Violet would have to approach the task very carefully.
“Excuse me, ladies.” A cowboy stood in front of them. Tall, muscular, wide brimmed hat. His tan cowboy boots were half buried in the sand. “Have you seen a white horse in the past five minutes?”
Violet blinked. She leaned closer to Maggie. “I think I’ve had too much to drink, Mags. I’m seeing things. Specifically, a tall, sexy cowboy with kissable lips.”
Maggie shaded her eyes with one hand. “I’m in the same boat. I’m seeing the same mirage. It’s got to be a hallucination. We don’t get cowboys in the Hamptons.”
Horses hooves thundered toward them from behind them.
“Never mind. I see her.” The cowboy walked around behind them and whistled shrilly. “Tally ho!”
“I’m so confused. Now the cowboy is calling out the fox hunt?” Violet got to her feet. “Are you sure I’m not hallucinating?”
“We’re sharing the same vision.” Maggie got to her feet.
They both turned just as a white horse skidded to a halt, practically landing on her haunches and sending a wave of sand toward Violet and Maggie.
The cowboy didn’t move a muscle other than to hold out an apple slice. “Good girl, Tally. Easy now.”
The mare’s white nostrils flared. Refusing the treat, she jerked her head to look at Vi and Maggie.
“You want a slice of apple, don’t you, girl,” the cowboy said in a sultry voice that tugged at something deep in Violet’s chest. “You want it more than you want to trample me or these pretty ladies.”
Violet gasped. Unlike Maggie, who was a large animal veterinarian, Vi wasn’t used to being around anything larger than a golden retriever.
“I’m just kidding.” The cowboy gave Vi a look over his shoulder that made her pulse pound like crazy. “Tally’s as gentle as a kitten, aren’t you, honey?” His voice was deep and rich with a slight Texas twang.
The mare took a step closer to him, then another.
Violet had definitely had too much to drink because that voice called to her the same way it called to that horse of his. She took a step closer. And then another.
In one smooth movement, the cowboy leapt onto the mare’s back–no saddle, no reins, no halter.
“Oh.” He was hot, hotter than Lily’s fiancé actor Judson Hambly. “Oh,” Vi said again but dreamily this time because it seemed required.
“Thanks for your help, ma’ams.” The cowboy extended a hand toward Vi, as if for a shake.
Violet eyed that hand. Handshakes were rarer now that the world had been through a pandemic. “I didn’t do anything.”
“You didn’t run screaming, which would have made Tally bolt to Sag Harbor.” His hand was still extended.
Vi took it, momentarily losing herself in his large clasp and the heat of his skin.
Oh, yeah. Fantasy time.
“To properly thank you, let’s go for a ride.” Without warning, the cowboy swung her up behind him, let out one of those cowboy cries, and the horse galloped across the beach leaving Violet’s wine and sister behind them.
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