Arm Candy
Last call!
A clean-cut suit and a rebellious bartender act on their unlikely chemistry in this frisky Real Love novel.
Davis Price has had his eye on Grace Buchanan for a while now. Unlike the bubbly blondes he usually dates, the feisty, flame-haired bartender both intrigues and bewilders him. Something about her—the tattoos? the nose ring?—makes every part of him sit up and beg. There’s only one problem: She hates him. Trading insults and one-liners has become their M.O., but when Grace bets him that he can’t get a date with a non-blonde if his life depends on it, he’s determined to prove her wrong by landing the ultimate non-blonde: her.
Grace is used to regulars hitting on her at the bar. She’s turned them all down, except for one: Davis Price. She likes giving him a hard time, and he is kind of cute in his suit and tie—if you’re into that kind of thing. But after her bet with Davis backfires, their first date lands them in the sack. So does the second. And the third. They’ve convinced themselves that scintillating sex is enough, until want turns into need. Now they’re faced with a choice: end their physical relationship, or double-down on forever…
“A great balance [of] funny, sexy, sweet…” ~HarlequinJunkie.com
“Arm Candy offers readers a smoking-hot and tender romance filled with delicious banter and wicked snark”
“Arm Candy is a perfect laugh-out-loud, seriously steamy opposites attract story, with just the right amount of sweetness.”
Excerpt
Grace
“You have three Davis packages from which to choose.” He ticks them off using his fingers. “The Davis. The Davis Deluxe. The Platinum Davis.”
“You’re making this up.” Isn’t he?
“The Davis,” he continues, “is standard for any date save one detail.”
“Which is?” I fold my arms, still not buying it. What kind of guy offers dating packages, other than an escort?
“Hold the eggplant.”
He’s not laughing with me.
“Not literally. ‘Hold’ in this scenario means no holding. You can’t touch me below the belt.” My gosh. He is an escort.
“You need to make that distinction, do you?” I hoist a brow and try to appear like I’m not thinking about what Davis’s eggplant might look like. Like I’m not thinking about how many women bypassed that option because they were glad to touch it. “Why an eggplant?”
“Well, it used to be ‘Hold the pickle,’ but then the eggplant emoji gained popularity. I had to update.”
“Ah, I see. So sexting is part of the basic package?”
“No, that’s the deluxe,” he says so sincerely that I’m beginning to believe him. “Sexting is a substantial time requirement.”
“You’re insane,” I mutter on a nervous laugh. At least the heat is receding from my face now.
“I’m efficient. Which package would you prefer, Grace?” Something seductive slides into his voice. Even during this bizarre conversation, that same charge sizzles in the air. “Unless you’re chicken,” he says, easing us onto familiar ground.
“I’m the one who issued the bet,” I remind him. “I’m certainly not afraid of you or your... packages.”
I kind of am, though. I just explained to Rox why I wasn’t dating. But maybe… I mean, there’s no way Davis will stick around for more than one date, so what’s the harm?
“Prove it,” he says. “When’s your next day off?”
My throat is so dry I have to swallow before I can formulate an answer. “Thursday.”
Am I really doing this? At some point our banter slipped off the tracks and we entered The Twilight Zone.
“Thursday.” He tosses a few bills on the bar to pay for his beer. “Decide which package you want before then and send me a text.”
“With or without an eggplant emoji?” I smirk.
He leans across the bar, grabs a pen from a cup, and jots his phone number on one of the dollar bills. I flick my eyes to his lips and for one insane second imagine what his firm, full mouth might feel like against mine.
Incredible, I imagine.
“That’s up to you.” He backs away. Without turning, he says, “Include your address with the text. I’ll pick you up at eight.”
I stare at his phone number on the dollar bill and consider texting him. Damn.
This might be the first time in the history of the world the ole phone-number-on-a-dollar pickup worked.
