Ticketing agent Jessamy Taylor has been in a dating slump exacerbated by moving her sickly mother into her home. The truth is she's never gotten over the quirky Dr. Griffin Sanderson whose Obsessive Compulsive Disorder drives her crazy, despite his excellent bedside manner.
Fly Me To The Moon is a love song covered by many, the most memorable being Frank Sinatra. Griffin whistles this tune incessantly, but that’s just one of the many odd quirks Jessamy Taylor either loves or hates about him. Since their ill-fated love affair two years prior, she’s found no one to replace the good doctor.
A date with a self-absorbed jerk that goes awry for Jessamy somehow ends with her in Griffin’s arms. Will the changes he’s made be enough this time, or will secrets tear them apart?
Fly Me To The Moon is a love song covered by many, the most memorable being Frank Sinatra. Griffin whistles this tune incessantly, but that’s just one of the many odd quirks Jessamy Taylor either loves or hates about him. Since their ill-fated love affair two years prior, she’s found no one to replace the good doctor.
A date with a self-absorbed jerk that goes awry for Jessamy somehow ends with her in Griffin’s arms. Will the changes he’s made be enough this time, or will secrets tear them apart?
Jessamy shielded her eyes with her hand and peered
across the cul-de-sac. If she’d seen it first, she might have choked on
her lemonade, too. Griffin Sanderson was petting the Fowlers’ dog.
“Oh
my God, he is!”
“Don’t
they have like a gazillion germs or something? And what happened to his
glasses?”
“Actually, some would argue that dogs are cleaner
than humans. And Griffin got contacts.”
“Finally. You know, Jess, he’s looking kind of good,
today. You might want to tap that again since he’s had a makeover and
all.”
Jessamy waved her off. “I couldn’t
possibly.”
“Why not? The guy I see over there looks infinitely
tappable.” Kyla set her drink on the table and folded her
arms.
Jessamy sipped her lemonade. “He may look tappable
today, but you didn’t have to experience what I did with him as his
girlfriend for two years. I should’ve called it quits after our Christmas
trip to the Poconos, but I had fallen for him, and like so
many misinformed women in history before me, I thought I could change
him.”
“You’d think you two would’ve been great together,
twin OCD and all. And I thought you said the trip to the Poconos was
perfect.” Kyla said, air-quoting the word
perfect.
“Everything
was perfect up until that trip. We had so much in common. We both loved
science fiction. We were both G.R.R. Martin geeks who watched the Game of
Thrones show together and nitpicked how the show differed from the books.
And even though I had the books on my kindle, he gifted me the hardbacks
as a three-month anniversary present.” Jessamy smiled at the memory.
“I remember. You two were enough to make regular
folks gag.”
“And you and Carter don’t—with your copious
PDA?”
Kyla laughed. “But at least we don’t get all aroused
over an episode of The Big Bang Theory.”
“Carter likes that show.”
“Not more than he likes me, though.” Kyla actually
twirled her hair.
“Is he coming today?”
“Yeah, after he does his Saturday morning nine holes
with his boss. Ugh!”
“Good,
we’re going to need all the people we can get to eat up all this food.”
Jessamy eyed the tables balefully.
“Look!” Kyla said. “Griffin’s holding the Fowlers’
baby. Now doesn’t that make your ovaries want to
explode?”
Jessamy turned her head slowly, knowing the sight
would slay her. Griffin never held babies. She took it
all in as if in slow motion. Mark was holding their
toddler in place as Jenny was cleaning up the sticky
Popsicle he was covered
in, while Griffin was holding the four-month old. He cradled
her a bit nervously at first, then he seemed to get his baby-holding legs
under him and finally began to smile and talk to
her.
Jessamy and Kyla could hear her baby giggle from
where they stood. “Aww!” They said in tandem.
Bev Elle is the author of sweet and spicy, contemporary romance.
She's a lover of books - those already written, and those she harbors in her
very active imagination. Writing is a passion she's had for many years, but was
unable to act upon. Until now. Bev Elle is the mother of three human children
and two canines. She is also the lover of one husband. When Bev isn't writing
in her spare time after work, she is thinking of doing
so.
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