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Hunting for Love: A Sweet Southern Romantic Comedy, E-Book

Hunting for Love: A Sweet Southern Romantic Comedy, E-Book

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I'd do anything to prove I can run my dad's company, even share a space with a “hot hillbilly” and entertain two quirky old deer hunters.

Main Tropes

  • Small Town
  • Opposites Attract
  • Forced Proximity

Synopsis

I’d do anything to take over my dad’s money management company. Even entertain deer hunters at a cabin in rural Alabama.

Growing up in Atlanta I learned two valuable lessons: how to shop and how to do business. My mom taught me the first. My dad the second. And with his retirement growing closer by the minute, I’m determined to prove my worth as heir to Manderson Money Management.

But Dad keeps testing me, and this time he’s taken it a bit too far. Sending me well off the beaten path to Apple Cart, Alabama. To meet with a couple of men at a hunting lodge and discuss expanding their outdoors store into the southeast.

As if staying in the backwoods with no phone service weren’t enough to push me over the edge, there’s Jack, the owner of the lodge . . .

Let’s just say I didn’t know hillbillies could be smoking hot.

Intro Into Chapter One

Chapter One

Jack

In the time I lived in Tuscaloosa, I met plenty of city girls. But none were this stubborn. I trudge across the mud. Bending slightly, I tuck one hand behind her knees, the other behind her back. With one quick motion, I hoist her into my arms.

She lets out a small squeal. “I meant in your truck!”

“Well, that’s where we’re going. This is more efficient.” I could annoy her as well as she could me.

I cock a smile. Then, I grit my teeth. She’s a guest. A well-paying guest. And one for the first business conference I’ve ever booked. I need to focus on that. Not on how frustrating this woman brings much-wanted amusement to my mundane life. And certainly not how her slim body hugs against mine.

I carry her through the mud and open the passenger door to my truck. Still holding her in my arms, I manage to open the door. Then, I drop her in the seat. She lands with a huff.

“Uh, thanks . . . I think.”

I laugh, no longer able to hold it back. “You’re welcome.” I slam her door and walk around to the driver’s seat, then climb in. “And I don’t think we’ve formally met. I’m Jack.” I extend my hand.

She stares at my hand as if it were a poisonous snake. What’s her deal? It’s the same hand that cradled her legs a few second ago. After an awkward moment, she shakes it firmly. “Bianca Manderson.”

I smile. “And now we’ve met.” I back the truck up to the trees, and a low-hanging limb scrapes the cab. She flinches.

She sits like a statue while we make the mile-long drive to the lodge. I drum my fingers against the wheel and cut my eyes toward her now and again. She never looks my way, never says a word. Either I’m really that unbearable, or she still hasn’t recovered from the mud bath.

I park in front of the lodge and turn off the truck. Out of instinct, I jump out and rush around to her side. I open the door to her hand in my face.

“I’m perfectly capable of getting out myself.”

“I was simply opening your door, not carrying you across the threshold.” I clear my throat and step aside. What was it about this woman that set me off so easily? Oh yeah, her evil witch disposition.

Remember she’s a paying guest. Be decent.

She grabs hold of the handle on the side of the truck and lowers one leg toward the ground. The spike of her boot catches behind the running board, and she topples forward. I catch her and quickly realize my hands have landed on her rear. I slide them up to her waist as my neck starts to sweat. Maybe they weren’t there long enough for her to notice.

“Easy,” I say, warning for her not to try to jerk loose . . . but also as a warning to myself.

“I’m trying.” She sighs and relaxes in my arms. A warmth rushes through my body. Oh, no. I don’t need that. Not with Blondie. Uh, Bianca. I’ve lived alone in these woods too long.

I release one hand from her waist. “Lean against me.”
Bad choice of words. She presses her head against my shoulder, sending the flower smell up my nostrils. The top of her hair tickles my chin whiskers. I grab the ankle of her stuck boot and maneuver it loose, then plant her on the ground before my senses overcome my common sense.

She straightens and pulls back from me but keeps her hands on my shoulders. Our eyes lock for a second, and I try to decide what color to call hers. “Green” doesn’t do them justice. I’ve never seen a green like that in these woods. They’re more of an emerald or jade or even some fancy color I don’t know the name for. Peacock feather green. Is that an official color?

I blink and step back, giving her space.

“Thank you.” She blushes, then drops her hands. She grimaces as they hit her skirt. “Eww.”

I kick the side of my truck tire, trying to conjure up words to make this less awkward for her . . . and me. “I can get your bags and show you to your room. You can take a shower before the guys arrive, if you want.”

“I’d appreciate that.” Her bright red lips open to a smile.
So she is human.

I shut her door and retrieve the bags from my truck, then hand her the only normal-looking one.

“Thanks.” She drops her phone inside and slings it over her shoulder.

I motion for her to go ahead of me, and I roll the larger bags behind us. They bounce over the loose gravel as I follow her to the lodge, holding in a laugh. Dirty handprints mark her backside where I caught her. Better keep that to myself.

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