Previously released as an eBook in May 2016, the first book in Tessa Bailey’s Romancing the Clarksons series is now available in print for the first time!
When rescue looks like a whole lot of trouble . . .
The road trip was definitely a bad idea. Having already flambéed her culinary career beyond recognition, Rita Clarkson is now stranded in God-Knows-Where, New Mexico, with a busted-ass car and her three temperamental siblings, who she hasn't seen in years. When rescue shows up—six-feet-plus of hot, charming sex on a motorcycle—Rita's pretty certain she's gone from the frying pan right into the fire . . .
Jasper Ellis has a bad boy reputation in this town, and he loathes it. The moment he sees Rita, though, Jasper knows he's about to be sorely tempted. There's something real between them. Something raw. And Jasper has only a few days to show Rita that he isn't just for tonight—he's forever.
Excerpt
“So.” He plunked his beer down on the bar. “Where were
you four headed in that big, rusty Suburban before Hurley reeled you in?”
She looked pensive as her shit-stomping boots started
to sway back and forth, bumping the wooden rungs of the stool. “We need to be
in Coney Island by New Year’s Day. So we can jump into the Atlantic Ocean.”
“Why—what?” He dropped onto the stool beside her, his
drink forgotten on the bar. “That’s pretty high on the list of things I didn’t
expect.”
“Oh, I know the feeling.” A beat passed. “It was our
mother’s last wish.”
“I’m sorry.”
She nodded, brushing her hair back in a jerky motion,
as if she were uncomfortable having someone’s undivided attention. He’d never
had cause to use the word preposterous before, but that was the only way
he could describe her lack of confidence. Despite the inappropriate name, the
Liquor Hole was his life’s work, and, at the moment, it was nothing more than
an unworthy backdrop for Rita. And, God, he was staring at her hands like an
aggressive palm reader. “Most mothers want to avoid having their children turn
into floating ice sculptures. What was her reason?”
“Good question.” A hint of sadness winked in her eyes,
and Jasper wished he’d let the subject drop. This was what happened when he
avoided talking about sex. He stumbled right into deceased parents. And yet he
wasn’t sorry. Not even a little bit. He wanted to know everything. “I think…she
meant it as some sort of symbolic bonding experiment. But I don’t know. We’re kind
of unbondable.”
“Got the feeling I interrupted a near-melee this
afternoon.”
“Aaron called my soufflé decent.” A strand of dark
hair caught on her lips when she shook her head. It took one hundred percent of
his impulse control not to tug it away, but she beat him to it, anyhow. “It
sounds silly now.”
“Nah.” Jasper couldn’t help leaning in to get a whiff
of cooking spices. “He would have had it coming just for dressing like a
preacher on a weekday.”
Another one of those quiet, smoky laughs. “I guess there’s
a fine line between politician and preacher.”
“Politician?” Jasper shivered, then recalled the
threat Rita’s brother had leveled at his head back on the highway. “Still, I
can’t help but like him for wanting you safe from a stranger. He can’t be all that
bad if he worries about you.”
“Worried might be an exaggeration,” Rita said.
When her golden-brown gaze lit on his mouth, Jasper
realized he’d moved into her personal space without any conscious thought. One
of her knees brushed the denim covering his hip and, God help him, if the bar
were empty he would’ve been between her split thighs before she could call for
Jesus. For someone who hadn’t felt more than a passing appreciation for the
opposite sex in years, his libido was sure trying to play catch-up tonight.
“What are you thinking about?”
Lie. He had to lie. I
want to strip you down and fuck you on this seat, but I’m trying my hand at
being a gentleman, was not an acceptable line. It was too aggressive when
she seemed spooked merely from his close proximity. But she was leaving,
leaving his town tomorrow, and the slow-game option had been ambitious for
Jasper when he knew nothing about it. So he’d tell the truth while leaving out
the oh-so-dirty reality in his pants. “I was thinking it would have been a
goddamn shame if you’d broken down one town over.” His voice was gravel, so he
cleared it. “More than a shame. I’m kind of finding it hard to think about, if
you want to know the truth.”
For long moments, he couldn’t hear a single sound in
the loud bar. No music, no crunching ice or raucous laughter. And, somehow, he
knew she couldn’t hear the noise, either. It was there in the perplexity of her
expression. He expected her to call bullshit or make a joke, but she didn’t.
She shocked him instead.
“I’ll think I’ll take that kiss now.”
ABOUT THE BOOK
Title: TOO HOT TO HANDLE
Author: Tessa Bailey
Series: Romancing The
Clarksons, #1
On Sale: November 29, 2016
Publisher: Forever
Mass Market: $5.99 USD
eBook: $2.99 USD
BUY THE BOOK HERE
THE ROMANCING THE CLARKSONS SERIES
Too Hot To Handle, #1
Too Wild To Tame, #2
Too Hard To Forget, #3
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Tessa Bailey is originally
from Carlsbad, California. The day after high school graduation, she packed her
yearbook, ripped jeans, and laptop, and drove cross-country to New York City in
under four days. Her most valuable life experiences were learned thereafter
while waitressing at K-Dees, a Manhattan pub owned by her uncle. Inside those
four walls, she met her husband, best friend, and discovered the magic of
classic rock, managing to put herself through Kingsborough Community College
and the English program at Pace University at the same time. Several stunted
attempts to enter the work force as a journalist followed, but romance writing
continued to demand her attention.
She now lives in Long Island,
New York with her husband and daughter. Although she is severely
sleep-deprived, she is incredibly happy to be living her dream of writing about
people falling in love.
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