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Today we’ve got an EXCLUSIVE excerpt from MK Meredith‘s upcoming release Honor on the Cape, a Cape Van Buren series. This romance series is full of characters that are sure to tug at your heart. A town rich with family traditions, secrets that test it’s residents, and a little spiced latte to make your book adventure full of excitement and surprises. I can’t wait to read MK’s next Cape Van Buren installment. Want to know when release day is? Be sure to follow MK across all social media platforms for the latest information. Enjoy & Happy Reading!

 

He rounded the end of the isle just as the woman in question stepped through a door labeled Eclectic Staff Only, her head was down and she worried her berry-colored lower lip with her teeth. He’d never get used to it, the sight of her was a swift punch to the gut. He remembered how those lips felt, how they tasted…
“I’m sorry we’re closed.” She stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes going wide. “Jamie.” Her tone was breathless with surprise.
He’d never tire of hearing the Irish lilt in her voice when she called him by the nickname. He looked around with a nod. “I found myself outside and had to come take a look. You have something special here.”
“Yeah, I do.” She hesitated, studying him closely. “I worked hard for it, too.”
“Larkin told me you put yourself through school until you got your masters in business. That couldn’t have been easy.”
Pressing her lips together, she pulled in a breath, her nose flaring in the way he’d always loved. She jabbed her thumb over her shoulder and said, “Look, I have to get back to work. My stock doesn’t unload itself.” She nodded toward the front of the store. “You can let yourself out.”
He had two choices. The smart choice would be to do as she said and leave, but when it came to Blayne, his intelligence was in serious question and usually found just above his balls. Following her through the small hallway flanked with a small office on one side and a break room on the other, he couldn’t keep his eyes off the way her ass moved beneath her pencil skirt.
Her style drove him wild, and her current attire was no exception. He perused the line of her legs down to her high heels. “How the hell are you unloading boxes with six-inch heels holding you up?”
She spun around with a startled look on her face. “I said let yourself out, not in. What are you doing?”
“I’m helping.” He looked around at the stacked boxes and table full of merchandise. “I’ll unload and unpack, you inventory.”
“I don’t need your help, Jamie.”
“No, you don’t. But you’re going to get it.” He stepped beside her, noting how she stiffened with his nearness. He stiffened too, but in a completely different way. And to the point that he shifted from one foot to the other hoping his unwieldy body part would settle in a more comfortable position.
He pulled a delivery off a stack, then carried it to the table. Grabbing a box cutter, he flicked up the blade with a swipe of his thumb against the small textured lever. “Look, Blayne. I’m here. You might as well make use of me.” He heard it as soon as he said it.
And realized he meant it.
She ran her eyes from the tips of his shoes to his crotch–Please God, he cleared his throat–then on up to his chest, and finally his face. “What’s the American saying? Been there, done that?”
His bark of laughter echoed off the walls, and her painted lips quirked up at the corners.
With a sigh, she threw her hands up. “Fine. Unpack each box, carefully handing me one item at a time. This job is about accuracy and care, not speed. Got it?” One perfectly arched dark brow raised with her question.
Something settled in his chest. It meant something for her to give in, to let him stay. “Got it, boss.”
She scoffed. “Take that back to the conservation center and I’ll let you help me here any day.”
He sliced through the tape of one box. “In your dreams. We’re partners at the center, but I will give in to your demands here.”
“Give in to my demands?” Her question sounded anything but innocent. “All of them?”
“Yes.”
“Anything?” Her eyes dilated.
F#*k. Me.
“Completely.” His heart beat hard in his chest as she stepped closer. The heat of her made him want to reach out and pull her in until her breasts flattened against his chest. It was as though his breathing stopped with his heart as she leaned toward him.
So close, her silky hair, her porcelain skin. Those damn lips that left his d*^k begging and his mouth speechless.
Then just as quickly, she stepped back, her fingers gripping a silver paperweight in the shape of an inchworm. She slapped it into the palm of her other hand, and he winced. “Perfect.”
He narrowed his eyes at the victorious gleam in her own.
Two could play that game.
With a clap of his hands, he scanned the stacked boxes, taking a small measure of satisfaction when she jumped at the noise. “Well, Blayne MacCaffrey, let’s get to work.”
Shrugging off his jacket, he kept his gaze on the table, purposefully avoiding her eyes. He grabbed the hem of his black, knit sweater and pulled it up and over his head.
“What are you doing?” A hint of panic raised the pitch of her voice.
With the self-control of a monk, he resisted the smile that pulled at the corners of his mouth, and grabbed the first box. “Getting to work. I imagine you don’t want to be here all day, and I don’t want to get my shirt sweaty before having a chance to meet with Mayor Marth.” He shook his head. “It’s so weird to think of quiet, timid Sebastian as the Mayor.”
She waved her hand with a dismissive flick of her wrist. “First, get your shirt on and second, I’ve seen Sebastian Marth…there is nothing timid about that man.”
Her light green eyes stared off into space for a brief second, causing a swift, unreasonable, knot of jealousy to twist in his gut.
“The last time I saw him, he had two, fifty pound salt bags hoisted on each shoulder.” She followed up with a low whistle.
And the knot twisted tighter. It shouldn’t. He didn’t have the right to feel one way or another. He lost any claim to her the night he walked away. His head knew it, but damned if his heart did. He grabbed another box and moved it over to the table, followed by two more.
She picked up a large serving bowl made of glass and silver, studying it from every angle, seemingly unaware of the change in atmosphere. “Yep…not timid at all.” Placing the bowl to the side, she reached up on tip-toe to rearrange items on the top shelf labeled serving wear. “Like…at all.”
That’s it.
If anyone asked, he’d say the devil made him do it. And he’d do it again, too.
Without a sound, he stepped behind her, so close his chest brushed her back.
She sucked in a breath, but couldn’t move because she had two porcelain dishes perched on the edge of the shelf.
“Careful now. I’m just trying to help.” His voice was even but his blood raced through his veins at her nearness. Her scent wafted around his head, her heat warmed his skin, and the silky slide of her hair tickled his biceps as he reached around her to assist with the bowls.
“Jamie.” She stiffened. And he’d have sworn on his position at the conservation center she quit breathing.
“You’re about to lose two bowls that were balanced against the ones in your hands. Take it easy and let me help you.”
“I don’t need your help.” She shoved back slightly with her ass to force him to move but all she accomplished was pushing those round globes tight against his d*^k. And his vision went white.
Now he was the one who couldn’t breathe. God damn she felt so good.
As quickly as she pushed back, she pulled forward.
His hands wanted to grab her hips and pull her back so he could grind against her softness, and his heart wanted to pull her back to a time when she loved him. He blinked and swallowed hard, then adjusting the bowls by her hands, helped slide the other two back to safe ground.
As if his body hadn’t been on the verge of exploding, he stepped away and returned to his table.
Blayne didn’t move away from the shelf for a full minute. He’d counted, thankful for the time to get his body in check and his mind straight. Those kind of games were dangerous, but f*^k him if it didn’t feel good to play.
Finally, she quietly cleared her throat and reached for her clipboard, busying herself with her list of incoming stock.
He opened another box, slipped the box cutter blade safely beneath the protective edge, then set it on the table.
With a quick, easy grace, she grabbed the box cutter and unsheathed the blade.
“What the hell?” He looked from the blade to her eyes which glittered in a telling ominous manner.
He let out a soft chuckle. “Blayne, don’t be ridiculous.”
She raised the blade a little higher in its sheath.
“I was only trying to help.”
“Bulls&*t. You were trying to manipulate me. You were trying to muddy my head with your filled out muscles and smooth skin.”
His d^*k jumped.
“Come on. I was doing nothing of the sort.”
The hell he wasn’t.
And she knew it.
He raised his hands in front of him. “Seriously.”
“Get out.”
“Blayne, come on.”
She grabbed his shirt and threw it at his face. “Get. Out.”
There were times to advance, and there were times to retreat.
And there were times to run like hell from a mad woman with a blade.

Honor On The Cape by MK Meredith © 2018

Have you read Love on the Cape, the first Cape Van Buren book? 

Comment below.

If not, get your copy here. Be sure to check out the awesome rafflecopter giveaway below. 

Follow MK MEREDITH’s Author Page on AMAZON for her backlist and soon to be released info.


a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

 

 

 

 

** Seducing Seven Giveaway provided by Books I Love A Latte.
Love on the Cape Giveaway generously provided by MK Meredith.**

MKCOAuthor Info: MK Meredith writes single title contemporary romance novels which promise an emotional ride on heated sheets. A member of several writing groups, she believes the best route to success is to never stop learning.

She’s had a lifelong love affair with peanut butter — the only two things coming close in the battle for her affections are gorgeous heels, and maybe Gerard Butler…or was it David Gandy? Who is she kidding? Her true loves are her husband and two children who have survived her SEA’s (spontaneous explosions of affection) and live to tell the tale.

MK’s been reading romance long before she should have and can’t think of anything better than to fill her life with the promise of happily-ever-afters. When people ask, “Why romance?” She replies, “There is nothing more exhilarating than to write about one of the most powerful entities on earth. Love can be the fall of kingdoms and move mountains, destroy lives and create new life, inspire the dark and summon the light. Love is a challenge, a hope, and a miracle all wrapped into one. Love is life. I write about life.”

The Meredith’s live in the D.C. area with their two large fur babies…until the next adventure calls.

 

 

 

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