The Great Pick Up Line featuring
The House at the Bottom of the Hill by Jenni Jones
B&B owner Charlotte Simmons meets hotel owner Daniel Bradford for the first time in person….
Alright, so he wasn’t just any male specimen. Hot farm hand on hay stack, the caption said, as a vision of Daniel Bradford standing on the baler of his John Deere tractor erupted in her head. Wearing only his jeans, with fifty-five hay bales he’d hefted at his booted feet, he ran a long-fingered hand down his bare chest where rivulets of dirty sweat trailed down to his … Charlotte looked down at his— For God’s sake. This was not the dream she should be having. Not in daylight.
‘Looking for something particular?’ Daniel asked, amusement in his tone.
The flame of embarrassment singed her cheeks. He’d caught her looking. ‘I wanted some screws,’ she said in a breathy little voice. Where had that come from?
‘You’re in the wrong place. You need Morelly’s hardware across the street.’
Did the man have any idea what havoc that shirt wrought with a woman’s imagination? Strong neck, toughened shoulders, an expanse of iron-hard chest and a firmed abdomen – all barely concealed by his thin cotton shirt. Given her reaction to him so far, all this masculinity spelled trouble.
‘Screwdriver,’ she managed. ‘I need a Philips head for the screw-in type of screws.’
He grinned the sort of grin obviously meant to please anyone who wanted to catch it. Charlotte did her best not to be knocked sideways by the sexual vibrancy of it.
‘Screwing?’ he said, his voice lowered to a soft, deep vibrato. ‘I think I know just what you need.’
Oh, trouble alright. Hotshot-charm-boy trouble. ‘Screw in,’ she said firmly.
The House at the Bottom of the Hill
by Jennie Jones
From the best-selling author of The House on Burra Burra Lane, comes a brand-new story about opposites, attraction, an outback pub, and a pink house…
The mysterious death of her mother has left Charlotte Simmons on edge and off-balance for too long. Searching for the truth, Charlotte buys a Bed & Breakfast establishment in Swallow’s Falls, a small town in Australia’s Snowy Mountains, as a ploy to get close to the man who might have the answers. She’ll jazz up the old place, flip it, get her answers, and be gone in two months – max.
What she doesn’t count on is opposition from the dogmatic and slightly eccentric members of the town council. And the hotshot owner of Kookaburra’s Bar & Grill and his two-hundred-squats-a-day physique is simply poking his handsome nose in when he offers to act as mediator between Charlotte and the council.
Easy-going Daniel Bradford knows progress is slow in Swallow’s Fall. He’s finally about to put his plans into place to upgrade the hotel when a prim-and-proper, citified redhead blows into town, putting everyone on edge. The only way to contain the trouble she’s about to cause is to stay close – he knows trouble when he sees it, and soon it becomes very clear that there’s absolutely nothing containable about Charlotte, or the way he feels about her.
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