Home is Where the Heat Is, Book 1
Miya Jackson always believed life had more to offer outside Dead End, Texas. So when circumstances turned her life upside down, she took her chance to break free. A few years—and some brutal doses of reality—later, her little sister’s wedding brings her back to the hometown she left behind.
The last place she expects is to end up is in the arms of the man she’s tried and failed to forget. One scalding, passionate night is all it takes to make her rethink her damn good reasons for leaving.
Shawn Dalton always hoped this day would come. Hell, he and Miya have a history, and any misunderstandings can be fixed if she’ll only stay in one spot long enough. Now that’s she’s back, he’s determined to make her see that she belongs in Dead End. With him.
Her obstinate nature is intact, but he can deal with that. It’s the cold, detached woman she’s become that worries him. Melting that wall—and reminding Miya of her roots—is going to take every hot, sinful moment he can wrangle.
Shawn hooked another bale of hay and maneuvered it into the barn. “Lot can change in four years.”
“We’re talking about my dad. Not us.” She followed him into the cooler recesses of the barn. A huge row of hay bales lined the farthest side of the barn. “But thank you for helping him.”
“No thanks needed.” Every muscle strained as he lifted the bale into place. “Your folks are good people, and your Ma was worried when he fell after the reception. I was just in the right place at the right time.”
“Wait, what?” Miya watched her father enter the house.
He walked past her to grab another bale. “I guess he tripped. I’d stopped by to congratulate your sister on her wedding and your Ma asked me to look at his ankle. I figured she would have told you.”
“She didn’t.” Miya took a deep breath to ease the guilt clawing at her throat. She was home, and she still didn’t see what was right in front of her. “I should be thanking you.”
He shook his head and adjusted his hat. “Don’t need it. I did what anyone would do. They’re my neighbors.”
He knocked his gloves against his jeans a couple times before swiping at the hay clinging to his body. A few stray pieces clung to his hair and sweat-dampened skin, and she walked over to pluck them away. “Still. It’s not your responsibility and I want you to know I appreciate it.”
He barely moved, at least it seemed that way. Must have been more than she realized since somehow, she found herself backed up against one of the tall support beams bracing the sagging rafters. A sinful smile creased his dust-streaked face. “It’s my pleasure.”
Candi Wall is probably the only person whose real name is more epic than any pseudonym she could have come up with – even as an author! She writes because the voices in her head have to come out somehow. Animal rescue-ess, mother of four, and soccer mom by day, she spends her free time writing – often on napkins at kids’ games because she never knows when a juicy story will reveal its delicious self. She once wrote a sex scene at a wrestling meet. Shhhhhh!
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