Welcome to the book blitz for LOVE REPAIRED, a stand-alone adult contemporary romance, by Deana Birch. See below for information on the book, buy links, an exclusive excerpt, and details on her giveaway.
About the Book
Title: LOVE REPAIRED
Authors: Deana Birch
Genre: Adult Contemporary Romance
Release Date: July 30, 2019
Links: Goodreads | Amazon | Amazon UK | Amazon CA | Amazon AU | Barnes & Noble | GooglePlay
Attorney Amee sets aside her own needs to juggle the broken pieces of her life and family until mechanic Ben repairs her heart.
Divorce attorney Amee Benton—who has an ex of her own—is pretty sure she’s a #MomFail. Showing up late on a Friday night to retrieve her car from the shop and finding the pink frosted cupcakes she forgot to leave at her daughter’s ballet camp confirms it.
When mechanic, Ben Mathis, confesses to stealing one of the confections and asks who is taking care of Amee, she knows he’s a unicorn—a magical, beautiful beast who surely only exists in fantasies. And she tells him just that. With an f bomb for good measure.
Amee has three things Ben finds irresistible in a woman—brains, a family, and a serious potty mouth. At a chance run-in at Ben’s own personal hell, AKA the mall, he summons the courage to ask her out. Though Amee is leery of dating a younger man, and Ben is more than aware of their social gap, the two take a chance.
But Amee’s life isn’t like his. And when her ex returns and the doubting divorcée blunders, all of Ben’s insecurities are piqued anew. Now, Amee must prove to Ben his worth is much more than stand-in dad and rebound boyfriend or she’ll watch magic gallop off into the forest forever.
With my hands in the pocket of the cardigan that I’d grabbed, I sat on the steps of my front porch and examined my toes. I was going to need to revisit regular lady grooming if the thing with Ben went any further.
The purr of a motor came from down the street. The closer the headlights approached, the faster my heart raced. Is this feeling the same thing rule-breaking babysitters go through when they have their boyfriends illegally visit them while on duty?
Ben’s big black truck pulled into my driveway and the sound and shine died. I stood and walked over to the driver’s side where the window was halfway down.
“Hey, Cupcake.” He rubbed his beard and leaned back.
“You sure you won’t come in?”
He gestured to the other side of the truck and said, “Hop in.”
I closed the car door as silently as I could and tried to find any residual confidence the second-guessing of the prior twenty minutes hadn’t washed away. “I hope you weren’t in the middle of something.”
“Nah. Nate and I watched Laurel and Hardy all night and I had just put him to bed.”
“He doesn’t look like you.” I thought back to the little boy from the mall.
“No reason why he would.” When I tilted my head, he continued. “He’s not mine. Unfortunately. But I love him like he is.”
A man who steps up to the plate? Yes, please. I repositioned myself to get an eyeful of Ben Mathis. Between my front porch and the streetlight, there was enough of a glimmer to bounce in his blue eyes.
“He’s my cousin’s kid. His dad died in Iraq.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
Nate was another fatherless child. Between work and my personal life, I’d seen too many.
“What about you? What led you to want to do something nice for yourself? Which, as it turns out, sounds nice for me too.” His dimples deepened, turning me into putty in PJs.
I dropped my head behind me and exhaled.
“Every Saturday morning for the last six months, I’ve driven the girls to see their dad. The little one doesn’t want to go anymore and the big one would prefer if we lived across the street from the prison.”
“That must be tough.” He stared ahead at my closed garage door. “For him. For everybody.”
“It’s definitely not easy. And we can’t go next week, so he and Carly are pissed. And I’m their favorite punching bag.”
Ben turned to me and narrowed his eyes.
“So, you called your favorite unicorn? You think I can make you feel better?” He lifted one of his thick blond eyebrows as if he was daring me to be bold.
“I have a lot of baggage. Two kids, I work all the time…”
“Ah, the list. I knew you had one.” He chuckled to himself and stretched. His clothes were just as casual as mine, black sweatpants and a plain white T-shirt. He crossed his arms and smirked over to me.
List or no list, I needed to be honest. I continued, “I don’t have a lot to give. I mean, I don’t even know if I believe in love at this point. Not that I’m…” God, the horror. What am I assuming we would be?
“It’s okay. Get it out. Tell me all the shit inside your beautiful head. Then I’ll know what I’m up against.” His gentle words coaxed their way to the other side of my wall.
I pressed my palms into my forehead. “I just don’t—”
“Say it. Ask it. I promise. I’ll answer.”
“I don’t get it.” I dropped my hands as the curiosity bubbled. “Why me? I mean, you’re hot and sweet and single. Why would someone like you want all the fucked-up shit suitcase that is my life?”
“Fucked-up shit suitcase?”
“Yes. So why?” I slipped off my Flip-flops and tucked my foot under my rear.
He looked forward and blinked a few times.
Crap, maybe my sales pitch of how messed up I am worked.
“I honestly don’t know. That first night, I thought you were pretty, then funny. And I was sure you were going to be pissed at me for the cupcake. But instead, you called me a unicorn.”
“A fucking unicorn,” I corrected.
His eyes met mine and he smiled. “Exactly. Then, when I saw you in the mall, I just wanted to know you. Who the hell knows why there’s a spark? But there is. I’m just trying to figure out what it means and respect you and your family on the way.”
I let the words settle between us and used my thumbnail to push back a cuticle on my other hand. “What if this doesn’t go anywhere?”
“Then it doesn’t. I mean, I’ll probably still check out your ass when I see you again, but we’ll both live.”
The grin on my face was hard to hide. “You check out my ass?”
“Every chance I get.” He wet his lips. “Which leads me to your original message.”
“I have plenty of rooms with locks on the doors in that house.” I tried my sexiest voice, as rusty as it was.
“I told you…I’m not going in there.” His deep, breathy words dripped with ultimatum. “Whatever it is you want, you’re gonna have to come and get it.”
Unicorns were beautiful. Unicorns were magic. But they had no idea what two years of middle-aged sexual frustration and solitude could do to a woman. I climbed over the center console and wedged myself between him and the steering wheel.
Straddling him, I gazed down into his eyes as his hands skimmed my hips then traveled to my ass. As he squeezed, he tilted his head onto the headrest behind him. I played with the thick hair at the bottom of his neck. My breasts perked, and my old but ever-so-welcome friend arousal joined the party. I needed to taste him, to devour him, to breathe him. Aware of my thin cotton pajamas and the soft fabric of his sweats, I swayed my hips once.
He exhaled, leaving his mouth barely open. As gently as I could, I touched my lips to his. I peppered delicate pecks down his jawline to his ear. I flicked the lobe and pulled on it with my teeth. When I reached my hand under his T-shirt and caressed his hard stomach, it was way better than I’d imagined. Rock solid and ripped. Thank you, unicorn gods.
“I want to do dirty things to you, Ben,” I whispered in his ear. With another grind of my hips, I found the stiffness in his pants and rolled over it again. “Dirty things, with my dirty fucking mouth.” I kissed a trail to his lips and he strained to meet me. Instead, I pulled back and smiled. “You sure you don’t want to come in?”
Ben grumbled and he moved his hands from my ass to hips. With a sexy smirk, he asked, “Are you teasing me?”
I brought my other hand under his T-shirt and I shrugged.
He grinned. “One, I fucking love it. Two, sorry, Cupcake, I’m not coming in. Not tonight.”
I moved closer and kissed him once. I looked over his face for any signs to stop. He dug his fingers into my flesh and drew me nearer.
That time, the kiss was his. It was deeper, harder, rougher. His whiskers scratched my face and the friction and intensity of his movements were well worth the cost of the burn. I intensified the grind, eager for what might someday await. My skin tingled. Had kissing always been that fantastic? I honestly couldn’t remember.
He slowed, pulling back between the brushing of our lips, then withdrew completely. “You should go in.”
I slumped down and rested my forehead on his thick shoulder. “When can I see you again?”
When I sat up, he reached for the door handle.
“That’s a long time,” I protested.
The click of the release brought the cool night air and I climbed down.
“You’re worth the wait, Cupcake.” He winked.
“How do you know?” My arms crossed.
“You just showed me.”
We said good night and I walked to the door, hoping my pajama pants-clad butt was worth watching.
Contemporary romance and erotica writer Deana Birch was named after her father’s first love, who just so happened not to be her mother. Born and raised in the Midwest, she made stops in Los Angeles and New York before settling in Europe where she lives with her own blue-eyed Happily Ever After. Her days are spent teaching yoga, playing tennis, ruining her children’s French homework, cleaning up dog vomit, writing her next book, or reading someone else’s.
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