Having it all isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
When Sarah Sullivan’s perfect life blows up in front of her, she finds herself crawling back to the one place she never saw herself returning: Home.
At thirty-one, Sarah had it all. Perfect job, perfect boyfriend, perfect life. When all that is taken away from her, she is left heartbroken and angry and desperate enough to let her life swallow her whole…for a while.
Fending off love and the pursuit of happiness completely, Sarah vows to pick up the pieces of her shattered life. She creates a list of goals for herself—starting with a much needed shower—and constructs a plan to dig herself out of her rut. What she doesn’t plan for is meeting the arrogant new employee her parents have hired to work on an addition to their home. Enter Jack Calloway, the handsome, charming, lickable foreman with an insatiable effect on Sarah’s girly parts.
Jack accepts the job, but gets more than he bargained for. Unable to ignore his racing hormones—and calm his temper—over the obnoxious woman who clouds his judgment, Jack pulls her in and steals her heart until she finally surrenders. But is he up for the challenge of picking up the pieces of Sarah’s broken heart? Can he carry her out of her rut?
I begin to move some boxes around, only to break the bottom of one open and have all my things dump to the floor. “Seriously?” I hiss. I kick another box, and it of course domino effects and takes out a crate full of tools. This is just great. I’m bent over to assess the damage, when I hear stomping feet approach.
“What the hell are you doing?!”
I turn to see him quickly walking toward me, jaw locked and wearing an impressively angry look.
“Listen, it was an accident,” I growl out and dip down in an attempt to pick up his tools.
“Don’t touch my equipment!” He swats my hand away and bends down to place his scattered tools back into the overturned crate.
“Listen buddy, it was an accident. Maybe you should find another place to store your junk!”
“Junk, huh?!”
“Yeah, junk—” As I try to finish spitting out my sentence, he bends over and picks up a pair of my shiny stilettos. Dangling my Jimmy Choos over my head, he then proceeds to throw them across the garage.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I scream.
“Oh don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m just helping you make room for my ‘junk’!”
“Oh no you didn’t!” I get right in his face. He follows suit which brings us nose to nose, ready to face off. His eyes are flaming orbs and I can feel his breath hitting my cheeks.
“You’re going to regret this,” I hiss.
“You have no idea.” In record speed, he raises his hand and throws it behind my neck, then he grabs my head and slams his mouth on mine. I have been pondering the feel of his mouth pressed against mine for days, but it’s nothing like the real thing. Too shocked, I don’t know whether to fight him off or wrap my arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. Before I can find out, he releases me.
“Don’t touch the equipment,” he says, out of breath, and walks out of the garage.
J.D Hollyfield currently resides in the Midwest with her husband, son and three doxies. As a Creative Designer by day, she enjoys spending her spare time with her nose in a good book. This obsession inspired her to test out her own creative ability. With her love for romance books and a head full of book boyfriends, this encouraged her to bring her own story to life and create her first novel.
