Release Date: September 28, 2017
Will a salacious scandal ruin her career – or bring her the love of her life?Mechanic Clay Westfield thought he was on the flip side of a crazy media storm after his sensationalized divorce from pop superstar, Dianna Skye. Then she gives an emasculating interview that goes viral, and his ego makes him do something stupid enough to throw him right back into the eye of the abhorrent tornado.Actress Peyton Riley returns home to weather the scandal threatening to torch her career. But less than three hours back in town, Hollywood’s fallen sweetheart finds herself caught up in the arms of a man who’s as infamous as she—and the paparazzi are right there to fan the flames.Some crafty maneuvering by matchmaker Santa Butch throws the two together at Clay’s mother’s secluded ranch and sparks fly as new rumors are ignited. If their relationship is to have any hope of survival, they’ll have to sort truth from lies as they withstand the scorching heat from a ruthless media spotlight.
Excerpt
The main room of the barn loft apartment—the only room—was a big square, with a double bed on one side, brown plaid couch on the other, small kitchenette, and a door she assumed was for a tiny bathroom. Everything looked old, and smelled...stale. Her nose wrinkled. Hopefully, at least one of the two windows opened because there was no air conditioner in sight.
There was also no coffee maker on the counter, and no TV on the ugly brown wall opposite the equally hideous couch. She had her laptop with her, but sincerely doubted there would be Wi-Fi.
Peyton faced Clay with a hand on her hip. “I was told your mother is opening a bed and breakfast.”
“She is.”
“Annnnd, guests stay in the barn? How quaint. You going to fix up a few stalls, too?”
“We’re not officially open because the house isn’t finished yet. Won’t be for a while,” he said without apology. “You’ve got two options. In the house, next to my bedroom, sharing a bathroom with me—”
Now why in the world did her mind have to jump straight to the fantasy image of him in nothing but a small towel, his wet, tousled hair dripping water down along his neck, onto his firm, bare chest? She avoided his gaze as heat flushed her body.
“—or, you can stay out here, with your own bathroom, and have complete privacy.”
And no sexy, half-naked man to run into in the hall. Hmmm—
Stop it. That’s a good thing! What is wrong with you?
“Of course, there is a third option,” he added. “If either of the first two aren’t good enough for you, no one’s making you stay.”
No, but she’d bet her entire paycheck from her last movie someone was specifically trying to make her leave. And no way in hell was she going to give him the satisfaction.
