Jessica Peterson

Jessica Peterson – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com Tue, 16 Jun 2026 12:50:52 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=7.0 http://www.ilovenovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Jessica Peterson – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com 32 32 Save a Horse Keep the Cowboy – Summer Lovin Read Online Jessica Peterson http://www.ilovenovels.com/save-a-horse-keep-the-cowboy-summer-lovin-read-online-jessica-peterson Tue, 16 Jun 2026 12:50:52 +0000 https://www.ilovenovels.com/save-a-horse-keep-the-cowboy-summer-lovin-read-online-jessica-peterson Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Novella Authors: Jessica Peterson Advertisement

Total pages in book: 14
Estimated words: 13485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 67(@200wpm)___ 54(@250wpm)___ 45(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 >14

New York Times bestselling author Jessica Peterson’s short story of a ride through first love into forever follows a country music star who returns home for a family affair—and faces the cowboy who once watched her walk away.

Josie Reid abandoned her Texas hometown six years ago, when Weston Jessup chose his family’s ranch over her. Now a country music sensation, she’s back where it all started to officiate her brother’s wedding. Wes is the best man, and he’s determined to make things right. But can he convince Josie to give him another shot, or is their love song played out?

Jessica Peterson’s Save a Horse, Keep the Cowboy is part of Summer Lovin’, a sweet and sultry collection of short summer romances that turn up the heat—and the heart. Read or listen to each short story in one easy, breezy sitting

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter 1: Cowboy Country

Josie

He’s here.

My body knows it with a certainty that makes me short of breath.

I’ve always had this sixth sense, a kind of Weston Jessup internal radar system. It’s been that way since we met eight years ago, on a hot summer day just like this one.

Despite the fact that it’s a hundred degrees and I’m wearing the tiniest bikini I own, I’m still shaking like a leaf, my heart throbbing in the back of my throat.

I should’ve brought a road soda.

That’s all I can think as my best friend Quinn and I pick our way down a dirt path that winds through the Texas Hill Country brush. A hazy sun bears down on us through the dense canopy of leaves overhead. The humidity is so thick we’re practically swimming in it.

Sweat gathers on my temples and breaks out on my forearms when I hear voices rise and fall nearby. There’s a splash. Male laughter.

Yeah, I definitely should’ve pounded a beer or a shot or something on the drive over from Hartsville’s tiny airport. I landed ready to go, having changed into my swimsuit before our descent in the cushy bathroom on board the private jet my record company chartered for me.

Quinn, bless her, was waiting for me on the shimmering tarmac in my brother’s beat-up truck that’s about as old as I am. We found a bottle of tequila in his glove box, but it was empty.

Grady is nothing if not a good time.

One of the (many) perks of flying private is the ability to land directly in my teeny-tiny hometown, population one thousand. I wouldn’t say I was necessarily calm on the flight down from my last tour stop in Charlotte. But I had managed to convince myself I’d be just fine officiating Quinn and Grady’s wedding this weekend.

I may have performed in front of tens of thousands of people on a nightly basis over the past six months. But that never terrified me nearly as much as joining two of my favorite people in holy matrimony.

That probably has something to do with the fact that Grady chose Weston to be his best man.

Wes, the first guy I ever fell head over heels in love with.

The guy who dumped me out of the blue and broke my heart.

“Three things you should remember.” Quinn grabs onto a nearby tree to steady herself. “One, you look hot in that bikini. Does a Brazilian wax hurt? I can only imagine what it feels like to get your whole—”

“I went the laser route.” I slap my arm, squishing a mosquito. “And yes, it did hurt. But totally worth it.”

“Those costumes you wear do show a lot of leg. And butt.”

“Makes them easier to dance in,” I say with a grin.

“Of course it does. Two, you’re a literal rock star who’s crushing life. Whatever happens tonight, you win.”

Running a hand through my hair, I laugh. The humidity has turned it into a frizzy rat’s nest, despite the heinously expensive extensions I wear. “I’m so glamorous, I know. Even fame can’t win against the Texas heat.”

“And three”—she cuts me a look over her shoulder—“I love you. I can’t thank you enough for coming this weekend. We’re going to have a great time, yeah?”

I manage a grin, feeling ever so slightly better. Leave it to Quinn to soothe my nerves. “Absolutely. Best weekend ever starts now.”

Out of all my accomplishments, the fact that I’m surrounded and loved by excellent people is the one that makes me the most proud.

My pride, however, is apparently no match for Hartsville. When Quinn mentioned the rest of the wedding party was gathering at the river this afternoon, I wanted to vomit.

Back in the day, we used to spend our summers hanging at a glorious spot on the Colorado River just off Highway 71. The river winds its way through these hills. At this particular spot, the water is deliciously cold from its journey through the Rockies. Canyons rise steeply from its northern bank, and you can swing out over the water on a rope that’s been there for as long as anyone can remember.

As teenagers, we’d while away scorching afternoons at this spot. We were living large with our coolers of pilfered beer and playlists that were half George Strait, half Snoop Dogg.

At night, Wes would park his truck on top of a nearby canyon. The things that happened in that back seat? Scorching doesn’t begin to describe the way that man lit my body on fire.

When Wes was around his brothers or with his friends, he was all cowboy—gruff, businesslike. He’d talk about sports and the weather, just like his daddy. But when it was just the two of us, he’d open up and show me a side of himself no one else got to see. The vulnerable, tender side. The one that loved music, and the stars, and long, deep kisses.

<<<<1 2 3 11 >14

Advertisement
S’more of You – Summer Lovin Read Online Jessica Peterson http://www.ilovenovels.com/smore-of-you-summer-lovin-read-online-jessica-peterson Tue, 16 Jun 2026 12:50:49 +0000 https://www.ilovenovels.com/smore-of-you-summer-lovin-read-online-jessica-peterson Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary Authors: Jessica Peterson Advertisement

Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 20192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 101(@200wpm)___ 81(@250wpm)___ 67(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >22

Josie Reid abandoned her Texas hometown six years ago, when Weston Jessup chose his family’s ranch over her. Now a country music sensation, she’s back where it all started to officiate her brother’s wedding. Wes is the best man, and he’s determined to make things right. But can he convince Josie to give him another shot, or is their love song played out?

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

Margot

Isolemnly swear never to terrorize Dean Ingram ever again.”

I’m not sure who is more dubious about my vow—my image staring back at me in the cabin’s bathroom mirror or my best friend, Isabel.

“I’m serious,” I say, before Isabel can give voice to her skepticism. “I’m twenty-one now. A senior counselor at Camp Firefly. This is the year I start acting like a grown-up and confess my feelings to Dean, instead of leaving a whoopee cushion on his seat while he’s leading the cafeteria in the Pledge of Allegiance.”

“Really?” Isabel responds wistfully. “That’s my favorite one of your pranks.”

“Me too. The acoustics are great in the cafeteria. But I’m turning over a new leaf.” I whirl away from the sink dramatically. “Say goodbye to Margot, Mistress of Mayhem. Say hello to . . .”

Isabel waits. “What?”

My cheeks heat. “I didn’t get that far. The bottom line is, if I stop being the thorn in Dean’s side, maybe he’ll start thinking of me as girlfriend material.”

“You are girlfriend material,” Isabel says, tapping her hiking boot against mine. “It’s not your fault he ignores you. Dean is just . . . Dean. He’s married to the wilderness. He’s been this way since we were campers.”

“I hate being ignored,” I whisper.

“I know you do, Margs,” Isabel says sympathetically.

I’m the middle child in a family of five kids. Loud ones. Being drowned out is one of the hazards of coming from a household with so many voices. Everything is a competition. Obtaining the final slice of pizza could require a death match. A family of seven people is not for the faint of heart. And I’m not faint of heart in the slightest.

I’m wild of heart. Emotional, colorful, and theatrical.

I’ve been in Camp Love with my fellow camper turned fellow counselor Dean Ingram since we were thirteen. Camp Love is a very specific kind of affection. It’s basically a chronic condition made up of three weeks of intense, almost-painful pining every single summer, followed by an entire year of internet stalking and tearful yearning. And believe me, there is no satisfaction to be had monitoring Dean’s social media. At best, I might catch the edge of his hand when he posts a bug he’s holding. Or a rare rock. By the end of the school year, my romantic well has nearly run dry.

Oh, but then I see him at orientation every June, and my cup runneth over once more.

“Did you see him at the welcome campfire?” I breathe, shaking my head. “He must be at least six foot two now.”

“Yup. He’s like, a full-on grown-up man.”

“When did that happen?”

“It happened to us, too, dude. We’re not thirteen anymore. I got bills, bitch.”

“Exactly.” I hold my best friend’s attention while slowly drawing out a lipstick from the pocket of my jean shorts, then waving it around like it’s the keys to the kingdom. “Time to start acting like we’ve got bills.”

“You’re going to wear makeup? At camp?”

“That’s right. Let’s see if Dean can ignore me in . . .” I check the bottom of the tube. “Dreamy Dahlia. If that doesn’t scream ‘I’m behind on my rent,’ I don’t know what will.”

Isabel hops up from her seat on the closed toilet. “Well, tomorrow morning is the Battle of Firefly Mountain. Boys versus girls. Showing up in lipstick could be a solid diversion tactic—and I’m willing to try anything. The boys’ camp won last year, and they were insufferable for three weeks.”

“Insufferable! Were boys this annoying when we were thirteen?”

“Yes.”

“Right.” I turn back around to face the mirror, a familiar knot forming beneath my collarbone. One that I associate with my yearly three-week stint at Camp Firefly. A gathering in my chest that can be attributed to one Dean Ingram, with his gruff, exasperated mutters, his outdoorsman body and furrowed brow. Always concentrated on his clipboard or whatever kind of rock he just unearthed. That thick black hair that is merely an afterthought, never styled, a victim of the wind or the absent shove of his fingers.

His pine-tree-and-saltwater scent.

That smile, that is more of a single corner twitch of his mouth, that he bestows on his campers when they say something insightful about nature.

Camp Firefly is more than a three-week diversion for Dean. He lives and breathes this camp, these woods, the lake. Once upon a time, Dean’s grandfather founded the summer camp. Dean’s mother took the reins when his grandfather passed away, only to pass away herself after a battle with cancer when Dean was eighteen. Now he runs the place. Lives on the property twenty-four seven, three sixty-five.

Sometimes, when camp is over and life returns to normal, it keeps me awake at night in my off-campus apartment in San Luis Obispo, knowing he’s here all by himself. When I’m rehearsing for community theater productions and my mind should be on lines, projecting, comedic timing . . . I’m imagining him sitting with the quiet in the absence of his loved ones. I dream of making the two-and-a-half-hour drive to surprise him, even if I’m the last person he probably wants to see, thanks to my eight-year prank campaign to make him notice me.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >22

Advertisement
Duke (Lucky River Ranch #4) Read Online Jessica Peterson http://www.ilovenovels.com/duke-lucky-river-ranch-4-read-online-jessica-peterson Thu, 25 Dec 2025 22:03:32 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/duke-lucky-river-ranch-4-read-online-jessica-peterson Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary Authors: Jessica Peterson Series: Lucky River Ranch Series by Jessica Peterson
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 114068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >116

One chance meeting on a Texas ranch.

One wild, too—charming cowboy.

One snowed—in night that changes everything.

Wheeler Rankin isn't here for romance—she's come to Lucky River Ranch to visit her best friend, wrangle a business deal, and prove herself to everyone who ever doubted her. But when she collides with Duke Rivers—resident heartbreaker, restless cowboy, and brother to her best friend's new flame—sparks fly hotter than a Texas summer.

Duke has always dreamed of more than dusty trails and small—town life. He's itching to see the world, but one unforgettable night with Wheeler changes his course. When a blizzard and a business road trip leave them stranded together, their no—strings flirtation ignites into something deeper.

But passion brings complications—and unexpected news threatens to upend everything Wheeler's built. As family pressures, old wounds, and new dreams collide, Duke is determined to stand by her side, ready to forge a future neither of them ever imagined.

Can two fiercely independent souls trust in love, face their fears, and find home in each other's arms? Or will the ghosts of the past keep them apart for good?

Duke is an interconnected standalone novel in the Lucky River Ranch series, perfect for fans of Elsie Silver and Lyla Sage

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER 1

Bull’s-eye

Wheeler

November

That’s my cowboy.

I know it three heartbeats into the extended eye contact I make with the tall, broad-shouldered blond who greets me with a smile as I walk into the ranch’s enormous kitchen. He’s the kind of handsome in his faded button-up and baseball hat that makes my stomach do several backflips.

It’s my first time visiting Lucky Ranch, so I have no idea if cowboys in general are this friendly and gorgeous or if this guy is special. Whatever the case, I don’t hate it.

“I’m Duke.” He extends a hand. “Pleasure to finally meet the gal Mollie’s always talking to about boots on the phone. And about banging—”

“Can you not be gross for five fucking seconds?” Cash rolls his eyes. He’s my best friend and business partner Mollie’s boyfriend. He’s also Duke’s older brother.

Cash can be gruff, but as evidenced by his smile, he’s a secret softie. That smile probably has something to do with the fact that Mollie is tucked into his side, her eyes sated and happy as she looks up at him. They’ve been dating for all of two months, but it’s obvious they’re smitten.

“Banging business ideas.” Duke’s lips twitch. He looks a lot like Cash. Blue eyes. Square, Superman-like jaw. “Just showing respect where respect is due. As co-CEO of her own damn company, Miss Wheeler Rankin here knows what I’m talking about. Ain’t that right?”

I laugh as I take his hand. Mollie told me cowboys are a different breed, but I didn’t believe her until now.

The guy already knows my last name. Does that mean something?

That has to mean something. Mollie must’ve really talked up my arrival, and Duke must’ve really been paying attention. The idea makes a shiver of excitement dart up my spine.

The kitchen is full of people, their voices rising and falling in a happy kind of chaos. The space is clearly built to accommodate a crowd, with a huge island and a farm table with room for at least twenty.

Warmth blooms in my center. Feels good to laugh and be around people. Get out of my head for a minute.

Duke holds my hand—holds my gaze—with warm, intense confidence. His grip is firm.

“Nice to finally meet you too,” I reply.

Be careful, a voice inside my head warns as I stare into his eyes for a beat too long.

But then I remember my stay here on the ranch is temporary. Stumbling into any kind of real emotional intimacy is impossible when you’re literally and figuratively all over the place. Which is why I’m only looking for some no-strings-attached fun right now. Considering cowboys have a reputation for never resting their heads on the same pillow twice, I figured they’d be a perfect fit.

There are five Rivers brothers, all of them part of a long line of ranchers going back generations. Is being charming and gorgeous and so damn…big in every aspect part of their DNA?

Dallas may only be two hundred miles northeast of here, but you’d think the ranch was on a whole other planet for how different these cowboys are from the guys back home. Men there will approach you, but their friendliness is all pretense. All a show of swagger. But Duke here? His friendly energy feels genuine, like this is who he is all the time.

I also adore how he drops compliments that actually land.

Guys back in Dallas definitely don’t have hands this calloused. A hot, lovely drip of awareness works its way through my center at the feel of Duke’s palm pressed to mine. It’s dry, smooth in the center but rough at the base of his fingers and thumb.

Mollie was absolutely right about cowboys being a different breed. She discovered this fact after recently inheriting Lucky Ranch, her wildly wealthy late father’s two-hundred-thousand-acre property in the small town of Hartsville, Texas. After butting heads with the ranch’s foreman, Cash, the two of them promptly fell in love.

Now, Mollie has decided to split her time between Hartsville and Dallas, where our company is based. As her business partner, that means I get to regularly visit Lucky Ranch. Which is, well, lucky for me, because I’m interested in this cowboy.

Very, very interested in having some of that meaningless fun with him.

Judging by his expertise in flirting, there’s a good chance Duke just might want the same thing. The twins—babies of the family—are wild cards, Mollie told me, referring to Duke and his brother Ryder. You never know where they are or who they go home with.

Perfect.

“You know a lot about Bellamy Brooks,” I reply to Duke, referring to the cowboy boot company Mollie and I started in our dorm room eight years ago at the University of Texas.

“Big fan. Just waitin’ for y’all to start making men’s boots.”

“So you can model them?”

Duke’s smile touches his eyes, making them glimmer. “I’ve been told I’m very photogenic. Just keep me in mind, yeah? I’m cheap—”

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >116

Advertisement
Sawyer (Lucky River Ranch #3) Read Online Jessica Peterson http://www.ilovenovels.com/sawyer-lucky-river-ranch-3-read-online-jessica-peterson Thu, 01 May 2025 18:18:28 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/sawyer-lucky-river-ranch-3-read-online-jessica-peterson Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary Authors: Jessica Peterson Series: Lucky River Ranch Series by Jessica Peterson
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 110113 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >113

Dirty dancing leads to a chance at forever in this sizzling single parent, found family, small town romance by Jessica Peterson.

As a recently divorced single mom, I have zero interest in flirting with guys while on a rare girls’ weekend away with my sisters. I just want to have fun, celebrate my new job, and listen to live music at a honky tonk.

But when I literally stumble into the most gorgeous guy ever on the dance floor, those plans go up in smoke. Growing up on the barrel racing circuit, I’m not immune to the charms of a cowboy. But this particular one is hot as hell: Sawyer’s got a mustache, some sexy tattoos, and a very filthy mouth.

Needless to say, we end up naked in his swanky hotel room. It’s the best sex of my life. And the way Sawyer treats me like a queen? Let’s just say a girl could get addicted to that kind of adoration.

Good thing he’ll always be just a one night stand I can look back on with a smile. I’m rebuilding our life from scratch, and I need to focus on my three-year-old daughter and the dream job I just landed.

Imagine my surprise, then, when I move to Hartsville and run into a tattooed cowboy with an endearing daughter of his own. Now Sawyer wants more than the occasional playdates between our girls. But the closer we become, the more determined this sexy single dad is to keep me forever.

As much as I am falling for Sawyer, I’m terrified. I’ve been down this road before with my ex, and I wonder if I can trust this cowboy. Will he rope the moon for me? Or is my heart destined to be trampled all over again?

SAWYER is a standalone book in the interconnected Lucky River Ranch Series

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER 1

Ava

HONKY-TONK HOTTIE

“There’s gonna be cowboys there, right?”

I may roll my eyes at my sister Bee’s ridiculous question, but I still smile. None of us have lived on our family’s small ranch outside Killeen for years now, but clearly our teenage obsession with the guys who worked our cattle hasn’t gone anywhere.

Despite the growing crowd that packs the sidewalks lining 6th Street, Bee is busy applying lip gloss, peering into the tiny mirror tucked into her palm. She’s only a year and a half younger than me, but you’d think there was at least a decade between us for how much, ahem, energy she has when it comes to seeking out the opposite sex.

“You would ask that.” I loop my arm through hers and give it a tug, the two of us narrowly avoiding a run-in with a slow-moving couple absorbed in sucking each other’s faces. “I haven’t been in Austin in years, so I can’t say. But it is a honky-tonk, so …”

“Who wouldn’t ask that?” Bee pops her lips before snapping the mirror shut with a succinct clap. “Cowboys are a thing for a reason. And that reason is⁠—”

“They ride like the motherfucking professionals they are.” My older sister Dottie smirks. “They also look really good in hats.”

“Really good,” Bee adds, dropping her gloss and mirror into the tiny bag slung over her shoulder. “There’s just something about a man who works with his hands.”

Dottie nods. “A man who knows what he’s doing with those hands.”

“They’re all yours, ladies.” I slow my steps to look up at the neon sign glowing above a nearby door. “I’m just here for the music and the whiskey. Bonus points if we get to dance too.”

“But if you have enough of that whiskey and just so happen to see a cute guy …” Bee nudges me with her elbow. “I mean, c’mon. Now that you’re getting back in the literal saddle, don’t you wanna get back in the proverbial one too?”

“No thank you.”

Meh is the word I use most often to describe my post-divorce sex life. While I have absolutely no interest in ever getting married again—being a wife once has cured me of the desire to ever do it again—I was open to having fun with someone new after my divorce was finalized a year ago.

Commitment is out. The freedom to do whatever the hell I want without worrying about a man’s needs or expectations is in.

Only the two tipsy hookups I had didn’t turn out to be very fun or liberating at all. They left me with hangovers from hell and the depressing sense that sex in my late twenties is just … not that great.

I have no regrets ending my marriage to Dan. Just like I have no regrets about becoming a mom. I’ve wanted to have kids for as long as I can remember.

But I hoped my sex life would get a boost. By the time we separated, Dan and I hadn’t slept together in over a year.

I was aching for sex. And even then, it was a disappointment. I just couldn’t be myself during those brief encounters. Couldn’t find my groove, I guess.

“Whatever. Third time’s a charm, right?” Dottie shrugs. “You have to kiss a lot of frogs to find a prince.”

“I don’t want a prince. I want sleep.”

“Not even a prince in a Stetson? With a big⁠—”

“Bank account?” Bee finishes the thought.

I laugh. “Not even then, no. I will take a shot of Jim Beam with a beer back, though.”

Dottie nods. “Let’s manifest that shit. Both the Jim Beam and the cowboy prince, I mean.”

Bee holds up a finger. “I’m on it.”

I roll my eyes for what feels like the fiftieth time today. “Y’all, please, please don’t.”

“We’re just fucking with you.” Wagging her brows, Dottie stops in front of a wooden door with a big brass handle shaped like a horse head. “Or maybe we’re not. You of all people could use some good old-fashioned stress relief. C’mon, y’all, let’s go have some fun.”

Dottie opens the door, and I step inside the infamous Blue Stallion. I’m immediately hit by the scent of stale beer and cigarettes, the smoke likely drifting in from the smoking patio that’s out back. The thump of a bass line echoes inside my breastbone. It’s a Chicks cover, one the band across the room is absolutely slaying.

Closing my eyes, I take a deep inhale and smile. Hello, lover.

As a single mom, I don’t get out much. To be honest, I’m too tired to miss getting dressed up and going out. The lackluster sex I’ve had with mediocre men certainly doesn’t help matters. But I will always, always love dive bars and live music. Especially when I get to experience them with my best friends in the world—my two sisters.

Bellying up to the bar, I do notice there are lots of guys in cowboy hats here.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >113

Advertisement
Wyatt (Lucky River Ranch #2) Read Online Jessica Peterson http://www.ilovenovels.com/wyatt-lucky-river-ranch-2-read-online-jessica-peterson Tue, 28 Jan 2025 08:15:05 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/wyatt-lucky-river-ranch-2-read-online-jessica-peterson Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary Authors: Jessica Peterson Series: Lucky River Ranch Series by Jessica Peterson
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 112903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >115

Roping horses leads to riding cowboys in this sexy friends-to-lovers, fake-dating, lessons-in-seduction romance by Jessica Peterson.

Wyatt Rivers is the perfect no-strings hookup—a cowboy Casanova who rocks a Stetson, looks smokin’ hot in his Wranglers, and never rests his head on the same pillow twice.

He’s exactly what I’m looking for. If only Wyatt wasn’t also my best friend…

I’m back in my hometown of Harstville, Texas, for a few months while I wait for my dream job to start thousands of miles away. While I’m here, I hope to end an epic dry spell in the bedroom, preferably with a local cowboy. If the rumors are true, they really do ride harder and stay on longer.

Wyatt and I have been best friends since second grade, and I’ve been in love with him for almost as long. But he’s as wild and untamed as a colt that can’t be broken—not to mention, totally out of my league with his good looks and heartbreaker reputation.

Then I get to thinking: since Wyatt is such an expert, why doesn’t he teach me the ropes of how to find a hookup? He begrudgingly agrees, and a little fake flirting suddenly leads to fake dating, which leads to real kissing, which leads to real…well, everything else.

And let me just say, the rumors are absolutely true.

Now, I want so badly to be Wyatt’s last rodeo. But I’m leaving town, and even if I wasn’t, I’m not sure Wyatt would ever change his playboy ways.

I know cowboys can’t be tamed. Apparently, neither can hearts…

WYATT is an interconnected standalone novel in the Lucky River Ranch series.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Prologue

WYATT

Cowboys Cry Too

TWELVE YEARS AGO

Growing up in cattle country, you learn early that gambling is a way of life.

You bet the rain will come and the rattlers won’t bite.

You play the odds and hope you chose the right breed, the right time, the right pasture.

You go all in on the belief that there is honor and goodness in tending to the land and the animals that live off it. The knowledge that it’s all a crapshoot, that the sky can fall at any minute, lives inside your blood. And yet you’re still somehow unprepared for the moment tragedy strikes.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen.” The preacher’s hand lands heavily on my shoulder. “I’m so sorry for your loss, son.”

Looking up from my feet, I swallow the ache in my throat and paste on a smile. I might be eighteen, but I still need my parents. I have no idea what we’re gonna do without them.

“Thank you, Reverend Ford. That means a lot to us.”

How many hundreds of times have we parroted that line this week as friends and neighbors came to check on us here on our family’s ranch?

How many hundreds more will we have to say it tomorrow, the day of our parents’ funeral?

My older brother, Cash, catches my gaze from across the room. Sitting on the lopsided sofa alongside our three younger brothers, he looks as uncomfortable and lost as I feel. I keep waiting for Mom to use whatever sweet treat she just whipped up as bait to lure me to help her in the kitchen, where Shania Twain is playing on Mom’s little portable speaker. But her call never comes.

“I’ve told the city council for years that we need better lighting downtown,” Reverend Ford continues. “You boys need anything, you holler, all right?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you for stopping by.”

“Least I can do.” He glances at the sofa and shakes his head, letting out a heavy sigh. “Five of y’all. My goodness.”

“We’ll be all right.”

Aunt Lollie, Mom’s sister, emerges from the kitchen as Reverend Ford makes his way to the front door. She frowns when she sees me. “Wyatt, honey, you need to eat. A neighbor just brought over some fried chicken that looks good.”

My stomach lurches. My mouth fills with a familiar, sour-tasting rush of saliva.

Mom and Dad died on impact after being hit by a car five days ago. They were crossing Main Street on foot when they were run over by an elderly man with an expired license who wasn’t wearing his glasses. My parents were on a rare date night, the two of them able to get out of the house because Aunt Lollie was visiting from California and she’d offered to watch my brothers and me.

Ever since we got the news, just the thought of eating makes me want to puke. But I still manage to keep the smile on my face. My brothers are watching me, and I know if I fall apart, they will too.

My head throbs with the effort of keeping everything—the anger and agony—inside. I do my best to ignore the pain, hardly able to breathe around the lump in my throat.

“I’m okay. Thanks, Aunt Lollie.”

“Honey, you need your strength. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”

“She’s right,” Cash adds. “Please eat, Wyatt.”

“There’s some of that sheet cake left that I made,” Lollie says.

Cash nods. “And the enchiladas Mrs. Wallace brought over.”

“Those are so good,” Duke says, his voice cracking.

He and Ryder are twins. They’re my youngest brothers—only fourteen years old.

Way too fucking young to lose their parents.

We’re all too young.

My eyes burn, blurring with tears. I blink them away. “That your evil plan, to get me fatter than a pig on Sunday?”

That gets a chuckle from Ryder. The heaviness in my chest lifts before falling back onto my breastbone like a ton of bricks.

“I’m gonna go check on the front pasture. Irrigation was acting funny earlier.” I hook my thumb over my shoulder. “I won’t be gone for more than a few minutes.”

Lollie looks at me for a long beat. “Don’t go far.”

“I won’t.”

“Don’t get into trouble,” Cash calls as I make a beeline for the front door.

“I will!”

Now Ryder and Duke are laughing. Sawyer, who’s two and a half years younger than me, laughs too.

Good. They deserve a little happiness after all the terrible shit that’s gone down this week.

Stepping outside into the warm October evening, I make sure the door is closed behind me before I collapse into a crouch and gasp at the air like a man dying of thirst. Tears leak out of my eyes.

I can’t fucking breathe inside the house.

All week, I’ve been slowly suffocating as I politely greet neighbors bringing food and condolences.

All week, I’ve tried to lift my brothers’ spirits by keeping them busy and making them laugh.

All week, I’ve pretended like Mom and Dad aren’t really gone. I didn’t lose my mentor, the man who’d taught me everything I know; Dad’s just at the feed store in town, and he’ll be back any minute. Mom’s heart wasn’t pushed out of her chest cavity when she was hit by a car going thirty-plus miles per hour; she’s out watering her garden. The pumpkins are huge this year.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >115

Advertisement
Cash (Lucky River Ranch #1) Read Online Jessica Peterson http://www.ilovenovels.com/cash-lucky-river-ranch-1-read-online-jessica-peterson Mon, 23 Sep 2024 09:21:46 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/cash-lucky-river-ranch-1-read-online-jessica-peterson Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary Authors: Jessica Peterson Series: Lucky River Ranch Series by Jessica Peterson
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 114263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >116

Butting heads leads to knocking boots in this wildly sexy enemies-to-lovers, grumpy/sunshine, small town cowboy romance by Jessica Peterson.

My dad and I have been estranged for years. But as his only living relative, it’s no surprise I inherit his massive cattle ranch when he dies. Something that is a surprise? The stipulation in his will, which requires me to live on the ranch and actively manage it for a year before I can access my inheritance money.

I haven’t stepped foot in Hartsville, Texas, population one thousand, since my parents split when I was six. Now a city girl through and through, I never imagined having to move back to cowboy country. But I need the money to invest in my company, and a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.

There’s just one giant roadblock to my plan: the ranch’s foreman, grumpy cowboy Cash Rivers. I don’t care how good he looks in his Wranglers and chaps. He’s rude, he’s growly, and he wants me gone. I’d fire him in a heartbeat, but I need this cowboy to teach me the ropes of running a ranch.

We’re enemies from the get-go. But turns out, Cash is really good at this ranch thing. He’s got strong hands, an intelligent mind, and let’s just say everything really is bigger in Texas. Working alongside him leads to conversations beneath the stars. Throw in some cheek-to-cheek dancing at the local dive bar, and it all feels so right that I start to fall in love with life on the ranch. And maybe with him, too.

But my stay in Hartsville is only temporary. And you know what they say about cowboys: they may break horses, but they also break hearts. If only Cash hadn’t already lassoed mine…

CASH is the first standalone book in the brand new steamy, interconnected Lucky River Ranch Series.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER 1

Mollie

KISS MY ASS, COWBOY

SEPTEMBER

I’m deep in cowboy country, but I still jam on the brakes when I see an actual cowboy park his actual horse outside an actual saloon.

Have I gone back in time?

Or is the whole scene a mirage? My dashboard does say it’s 109 degrees outside.

The cloud of dust that’s followed me since Belton billows around my SUV, temporarily obscuring the view of a building marked The Rattler.

The Hill Country dust clears. Yep, that’s definitely a horse.

And that’s definitely a guy in slim-cut jeans and a cowboy hat sliding off the saddle with an ease that makes my breath catch.

Mom’s words echo inside my head: Hartsville is a one-horse town. I didn’t know she meant that literally.

I feel a whisper of recognition as I take in the building’s façade behind the cowboy and his horse. It’s two stories, brick, with windows whose uneven panes glint in the hazy afternoon light. A faded green-and-black striped awning bears the image of a white rattlesnake, its forked tongue protruding from between its fangs.

I was six years old the last time I was in this tiny town, smack dab in the middle of nowhere. Why would I remember a bar of all places?

“Mollie? Did I lose you?”

My stomach seizes, the sound of Wheeler’s voice on the phone yanking me back inside the Range Rover. Without looking, I immediately hit the gas, then send up a silent prayer of thanks that Main Street is deserted. No one to hit, thank God.

Well, except for the cowboy and his horse, who I glimpse at in my rearview mirror. I’m less than two hundred miles southwest of Dallas, but I might as well be on another planet for how different this place feels.

I reach for the vent beside the steering wheel and aim a blast of AC at my face. “Sorry, I’m here. I just got to Hartsville and…I think I may have just had an Outlander moment? But a Western-themed one, with a saloon and a cowboy.”

My best friend and business partner’s raspy laugh pours through the speakers. “Bring cowboy Jamie back to Dallas. Tell him city life is better.”

“No shit.” I peer out my windshield as my GPS tells me I’m approaching my destination. “Mom wasn’t joking when she said there was nothing out here.”

“Get your money and get the hell out of Dodge. Call me when you’re done, okay? I’m thinking of you.”

I smile, even as my stomach seizes again. “Thanks, friend. I can’t wait for the pop-up.”

“Same. I’m so curious to see how it goes.”

One of Dallas’s better-known boutiques is hosting a pop-up shop for our cowboy boot company this week. The boutique’s clientele is fashion-forward and well-heeled, so we’ll hopefully make a decent number of sales. Lord knows we could use the revenue.

Hanging up, I slow down in front of the last building on the left before Main Street continues down a desolate stretch of nothingness ahead. The chalk-colored dirt, dotted sparsely with trees, cacti, and brush, wavers in the mid-afternoon heat.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >116

Advertisement
I Wish You Were Mine (Harbor Village #2) Read Online Jessica Peterson http://www.ilovenovels.com/i-wish-you-were-mine-harbor-village-2-read-online-jessica-peterson Thu, 08 Feb 2024 08:24:40 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/i-wish-you-were-mine-harbor-village-2-read-online-jessica-peterson Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary Authors: Jessica Peterson Series: Harbor Village Series by Jessica Peterson
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 104288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >107

A smoking hot standalone romance in the small-town Harbour Village series, featuring a single dad, a nanny, and an accidental pregnancy...

I know Tuck Monroe is trouble the second I walk in to interview for the nanny position. Six-four and covered in tattoos, he’s distractingly hot. He’s also grumpy as hell. But I need to pay for school, so I take a job as his daughter’s live-in caretaker and move into the apartment above his garage.

I fall hard for Katie, his adorable four-year-old. But I never expected to fall for my new boss, who’s a decade older than I am. Turns out there’s a heart of gold beneath Tuck’s broody exterior, one I work to reveal bit by bit. Casual small talk leads to late-night conversations I can’t get enough of.

No surprise our simmering sexual tension explodes with one deep, toe-curling kiss.
He tells me I’m his good girl; I tell him I love the praise. We give ourselves one night, and one night only, to explore the fiery attraction between us.

It’s the best sex of my life. But when I wake up, Tuck is gone, and life goes back to normal. Or at least I think it does, until I start to feel nauseous. Turns out I was right: my boss is trouble. The kind that comes with one night I can’t forget and two pink lines that will change our lives forever.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

one

. . .

Tuck

Beer Me

August

“Nice neck tattoo.”

I whip my head around at the sound of the clear, rich voice behind me. Blinking, I’m surprised to see it belongs to a tiny brunette wearing a white T-shirt and a big grin. Seriously, she’s the size of a fucking pixie. The top of her head doesn’t even come up to my shoulders. She must be five feet nothing. If that.

I do what I always do when I’m taken off guard.

I glower, neck tight as I cross my arms over my chest. “Excuse me?”

But the brunette doesn’t run. She doesn’t cower. Instead, her grin broadens into a brilliant, beautiful smile.

My heart skips a beat.

She gathers her dark, shoulder-length hair in her hand and lifts it, turning her head to reveal an elegant line of tattooed script on her nape. Summer Girl. “I’m a fan. I have one too.”

My pulse riots as my eyes rove down the soft slope of her neck. The sounds of the restaurant around us fade. Her skin is flawless. The lines of her jaw are straight and strong.

But it’s her lips that draw my attention. They’re so lush they look almost pouty, the top slightly fuller than the bottom.

I blink again when she drops her hair and holds out that hand to me. “You must be Tuck. My mom told me you’re the tallest, most tatted-up guy she’s ever seen. I’m Maren Lucas.”

You gotta be fucking kidding me.

Only the girl—woman—I’m hoping to hire as a nanny for my four-year-old daughter, Katie. We’re meeting for an interview today over lunch at Stede’s, my friend Riley’s restaurant here on Bald Head Island.

Maren is the daughter of a friend of my mom’s. When Mom heard that Maren, who is getting her master’s degree in education, was looking for a nannying gig to help pay for school, she sent Maren’s résumé my way.

I knew I wanted to hire her before I finished reading it. Maren is accomplished, having graduated from Chapel Hill with honors while also doing varsity cheerleading. She also has tons of experience working with kids. Mom raved about her.

Even better? Mom said Maren is interested in a live-in position. Katie’s prior nanny didn’t live with us. While that worked when Katie was a baby, my job at Dixon Properties has become more demanding over the past few years.

Now that I’m CFO at Riley’s property development company and his right-hand man, I work a lot. My hours are erratic. I need to be available when he calls, day or night.

A live-in nanny is definitely what my little family needs. But turns out finding someone to live with us is not easy, especially given our location on a remote island accessible only by ferry.

I’m getting desperate after interviewing and rejecting a dozen or more candidates over the past couple months. They either weren’t qualified or weren’t a good personality fit. My parents and my sister Jen have been pinch-hitting for me in the meantime.

Luckily, I signed Katie up for a ton of camps this summer—she goes most mornings nine-ish to one—and then she’ll head to preschool four days a week starting in September. Mom, Dad, or Jen have been picking her up from camp every day. They’ll hang with her until I get home around five to make dinner. Then I do bath and bedtime. After that, it’s more work at home while I cross my fingers and toes Katie doesn’t wake up.

It’s been stressful to say the least. More than anything, it’s made me realize just how important a consistent routine is for us. I want a nanny who can be a stable, loving presence in Katie’s life, because her mom is . . . not those things.

“Maren. Yes, I’m Tuck Monroe.” I take her hand and ignore the way my blood jumps at her firm handshake, and the way her warm, brown eyes stay locked on mine. Most people look away when I make eye contact.

Not Maren Lucas. That’s something her résumé didn’t mention, how confident she is.

How gorgeous.

She’s just my type: smart, pretty, athletic.

Something her résumé did tell me? She’s young. A couple-years-out-of-college young. I’m thirty-four. There’s a decade between us at least.

As if I need another reason to keep my distance.

Keep my mind out of the gutter.

Besides, I’m a one-girl kinda guy, and that girl is my daughter.

“I’m so glad you picked this place.” She glances around the restaurant. “I heard they have the best oysters in North Carolina.”

I seriously regret making this a lunch meeting. Not like I have any other time in my schedule to interview potential nannies. But still, I need to keep this interaction strictly professional.

Short and sweet. Coffee somewhere would’ve been better.

Gina, Stede’s hostess, plucks a pair of menus from the stack on her stand. “Would y’all prefer to sit inside or outside?”

Maren looks at me. I look at Gina. Gina immediately looks away, glancing back at Maren.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >107

Advertisement
I Wish I Knew Then (Harbor Village #1) Read Online Jessica Peterson http://www.ilovenovels.com/i-wish-i-knew-then-harbor-village-1-read-online-jessica-peterson Mon, 09 Oct 2023 12:39:57 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/i-wish-i-knew-then-harbor-village-1-read-online-jessica-peterson Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Forbidden Authors: Jessica Peterson Series: Harbor Village Series by Jessica Peterson
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102719 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >105

My grandmother has a saying: what's done in the dark always comes to light, especially in small towns with big secrets. And I was hiding the biggest secret of them all.

Every summer I spent growing up at my grandparents' coastal estate was the same. Same cousins. Same chaos. Same long golf cart rides along the beach.

But everything changed the summer I turned eighteen, when my grandparents' new housekeeper moved in with her son, Riley. With his big personality and head-turning looks, he was the local heartthrob.

We fell in love instantly. Riley was my first everything. First love. First time.

And my first heartbreak when he dumped me at the end of the summer.

Ten years later, I'm back on the island for my best friend's wedding as her maid of honor. Who's the first person I literally stumble into?

Riley Dixon. Even worse? He's the groom's best man.

Being forced to spend an entire week together for wedding festivities quickly leads to more: hot hate sex, late nights of sneaking out, and unexpected revelations. The boy I knew a decade ago is gone, and the hate becomes...something else entirely. And I begin to wonder if Riley is hiding some secrets of his own.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

For the messy ones.

As Riley says, perfect and shiny ain’t real,

and it ain’t that interesting.

then

Riley

9 to 5

Ten Years Ago

August

Dolly Parton is the tits.

Correction: watching my girlfriend, Lu, make the best damn cheese straws on planet Earth while dancing to “9 to 5” in a tiny tennis skirt is the tits.

We’re in the enormous kitchen of her grandparents’ fancy beach house. Mom is the Gibbes’s housekeeper, so technically I’m helping her out by unloading and then reloading their pair of dishwashers.

In reality, I’m between shifts at my two jobs, so I’m stealing a few minutes with my girl before I head to Merman’s Restaurant. I work mornings, six to two, at the Harbour Village Marina. Then I head to Merman’s at four, where I work as a bar back until close.

The time I get to spend with Lu Wade during the day is rare. Being alone with her in the house like this is even rarer. Gotta take advantage. Next time I’m able to touch her won’t be until after midnight, when we sneak out on Old Winny, her family’s ancient golf cart, or on one of her grandaddy’s boats.

The buttery scent of the batch of cheese straws already in the oven fills my head. My stomach grumbles. I glance down the hall that leads to the front door.

No sign of anyone yet. Mr. and Mrs. Gibbes, Lu’s grandparents, are out having a late lunch at the Ocean Club with Lu’s mom and her aunt, Lady. They’re not due back for another hour, but I’m still paranoid.

No such thing as being too careful.

“Think those’ll be done before I gotta go?” I close the dishwasher and join Lu at the island. I put my hands on the marble countertop on either side of hers. Wince when the marble’s edge bites into the blister I got from a mooring line on today’s fishing charter.

Ignoring it, I lean my body into hers, my front to her back, and kiss the nape of her neck. She looks good in her tennis clothes, the white popping against her deep tan. The tiny skirt, tinier tank top. Pristine white shoes.

She smells even better, like the coconut body wash she loves.

Lu grins at me over her shoulder, the contraption she calls a cookie press still in her hand. “Are you asking if I timed them so they’ll be just the right temperature for you, right before you’re about to leave? Warm, but not too hot?”

“Can’t have ’em any other way.”

“I’ve created a monster.” She gives me a quick kiss before turning back to the rows of cheese straw dough she’s already piped onto a baking sheet.

“Not my fault you’ve spoiled the shit outta me. I can’t even eat Bojangles anymore. That fried chicken you made the other night—”

“Granny’s recipe? I know. So good. It’s the Lawry’s in the breading. And then of course the mayo.”

“And the vat of oil you fry it in, Legs.”

Lu rolls her ass into my crotch at the nickname—I call her Legs on account of her long, lean, ridiculously sexy stems—and sways said legs in time to the music. Dolly’s singing “I Will Always Love You” now. “I can’t become a southern Ina Garten if I don’t master frying things in vats of oil.”

My dick loves the friction a little too much. Mom’s going to be back any minute from grabbing a shower in the apartment above the Gibbes’s garage, where she and I have lived since the beginning of the summer.

I can’t get excited. If anyone finds out Lu and I have been dating pretty much from the moment we met back in early June, we’re fucked. Her granddaddy, James Gibbes III, is old school. If he knows I’m sleeping with his favorite granddaughter, he’ll fire Mom, no question.

Mom needs this job, the highest-paying one she’s ever had, now that Dad is out of the picture. He split in the spring, and served Mom divorce papers not long after.

Only problem? I can’t keep my hands off Lu. She’s sexy, obviously. She’s also smart as hell—heading to Wake Forest in the fall. She’s introduced me to a whole world I didn’t know existed as a small-town boy from South Port, North Carolina. Books. Ideas. Dolly Parton.

Food too. She’s an extremely talented cook. Her passion for making delicious food for the people she loves most has turned me into a foodie.

Before we met, food was fuel, pure and simple. Then Lu started sneaking me plates of whatever she, her granny, and Aunt Lady cooked. Their famous cheese straws. Grouper sandwiches with homemade slaw. Biscuits made from scratch. A southern take on poutine, which is probably my favorite dish. It’s french fries smothered in this cheesy clam chowder type stuff, which Lu and Lady make with local seafood caught by my friend Tuck.

Needless to say, I was an immediate convert to the foodie movement.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >105

Advertisement
The Troublemaker (Sex & Bonds #2) Read Online Jessica Peterson http://www.ilovenovels.com/the-troublemaker-sex-bonds-2-read-online-jessica-peterson Thu, 01 Jun 2023 11:54:16 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/the-troublemaker-sex-bonds-2-read-online-jessica-peterson Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Virgin Authors: Jessica Peterson Series: Sex & Bonds Series by Jessica Peterson
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >91

Brooks Huntley is the last guy on earth I should ask to take my virginity.

He's a decade older than me. Lethally hot. And so far out of my league it's not even funny. The biggest downside to my plan, though?

Brooks is my older brother's best friend.

I see Brooks every day when I deliver muffins to his office. With his swaggering confidence and sexy smirk, it's no wonder I've always had a crush on him. But I'm not looking to cause any trouble—at first. I just want to give my V-card a long-overdue swipe.

Too bad I have no game when it comes to picking up guys—but Brooks is a master at charming the pants off women. While Brooks himself is off-limits, who better to study for tips on how to get laid?

When he offers me a weekend away at a five-star resort as thanks for satisfying his sweet tooth, I say yes—with the caveat that he comes too. That way I can watch him in action. He counters with a caveat of his own: he'll come, but my brother can never find out.

On our secret getaway, I do my best to learn from Brooks and take someone new home. But I fail so miserably that Brooks steps in and kisses me "to show me how it should be done."

And can I tell y'all, I just melted.

Now can I convince him to show me how everything should be done?

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Wall Street Bathroom

@WSBathroom

Overheard in stalls across Wall Street. Submit your gossip: chad69@gmail.com

New York, New York

475 Following 4M Followers

@WSBathroom 5/9

If you thought last year’s gossip about Theo Morgan and Nora Frasier was juicy, do we have something for you *rubs hands together*

@WS Bathroom 5/9

Rumor has it a certain mathematical whiz is not only a freak in the spreadsheets, but in the actual sheets as well.

@WSBathroom 5/9

Awesome puns aside, we have it on good authority this genius has a big brain and a bigger . . . skillset in a certain area of expertise.

@WSBathroom 5/9

Also, a big dick. But that only counts (heh) if you know what to do with it. And our numbers guy apparently *knows*, y’all.

@WS Bathroom 5/9

But let’s hope our Erotic Einstein keeps his eyes on the right ball(s). His employer, Atlas & Teton, continues to face headwinds. Another earnings miss, a falling stock price, and the departure of several key executives over the past several months leaves many pondering the investment bank’s future.

@WSBathroom 5/9

In the meantime, if this genius is looking to blow off some steam, I hope he knows he’s free to slide into my DMs. I happen to have a thing for (spread)sheets too.

Chapter One

GREER

“So you’re telling me it is too late to say sorry.”

I’m on the other side of the door that separates Drury Lane’s back room from the counter and cash register, but I still jump at the metallic clatter that reverberates through the bakery.

“Fuck you, Dustin.”

“Hannah, if you’d just—”

“I don’t believe you anymore. I saw you! With her! Again!”

A bang. I nearly drop the tray of triple chocolate muffins I’m trying to slide into the refrigerator case. Glancing through the round porthole window in the door, I glimpse Dustin holding up his tattooed hands. “I told you, she’s just a friend. But if you’re not gonna listen, I guess we really are done. I hope you know you broke my heart, Hannah.”

“I hope you break your syphilis-ridden dick inside your syphilis-ridden sidepiece.” Hannah lets out a sob. “You don’t think my heart is broken too?”

I slide the tray into the case and blow my bangs out of my eyes. Checking my watch, I grit my teeth when I see that it’s after six. I need to be on the trading floor now.

Like, right now.

Drury Lane has a storefront in Atlas & Teton’s building, and a cart I wheel up to the floor every morning. The bank is our biggest customer for both. My regulars—this early it’s usually traders, along with a few corner office bigwigs—start lining up at the cart at exactly six-fifteen.

My stomach clenches when I think about how disappointed Brooks Huntley will be if he has to wait for his iced coffee and muffin. Especially this week. It’s always hard this time of year for my brother’s best friend. I want to be there for him, if only because he’s there for me. I mean that literally—he’s always first in line.

But I can’t if I don’t have any muffins, breakfast sandwiches, or coffee to sell. The cart that’s waiting by the door is empty.

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. It’s Dustin and Hannah’s job to stock the cart every morning. But my employees, who married young at twenty, are now undergoing a pretty awful divorce at twenty-one. They were excellent coworkers in the beginning. Always on time, always hustling. But their performance took a steep decline once their relationship hit the skids.

I may need their help, but they need my grace more. Which means I have to get my ass in gear. Business at the bakery has been booming, thanks largely to social media and word of mouth, and I can’t afford a misstep now that I’m actually able to pay myself a (very) modest salary.

I shoulder the door open into the back room, inhaling the buttery scent of muffins fresh out of the oven.

“Y’all okay back here?” I ask gently, and send up a silent prayer that one or both of them don’t quit on me. I need to go through the hiring process again like I need a hole in my head.

Hannah sniffles. “I’ll be all right.”

“Aw, man, I completely forgot about the cart,” Dustin says when he sees me lifting a tray of foil-wrapped, made-from-scratch English muffin sandwiches. The egg, sausage, and pimiento cheese combo is a big hit on the trading floor.

I shake my head when he turns to help. “I got it. You two just focus on the ovens.”

It’s nearly six-thirty by the time I make a mad dash around the corner to our building’s main entrance, the wheels of the cart trundling over the sidewalk.

How is my day already a dumpster fire?

Dropping a Drury Lane box on Pete the security guard’s desk, I offer him a breathless smile. “Morning!”

“These blueberry muffins are so good it’s a goddamn crime,” Pete says, and presses the button that opens the frosted glass doors that lead to Atlas & Teton’s elevator bank.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >91

Advertisement
The Dealmaker (Sex & Bonds #1) Read Online Jessica Peterson http://www.ilovenovels.com/the-dealmaker-sex-bonds-1-read-online-jessica-peterson Mon, 13 Jun 2022 12:38:04 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/the-dealmaker-sex-bonds-1-read-online-jessica-peterson Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Romance Authors: Jessica Peterson Series: Sex & Bonds Series by Jessica Peterson
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >97

Read Online Books/Novels:	(Sex & Bonds #1) The Dealmaker
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Jessica Peterson
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	9798986161068
Book Information:
Hating and dating: I didn’t realize they’re two sides of the same coin until I meet him. Theo Morgan. One of Wall Street’s highest-paid traders, he may be hot as sin in his five-thousand-dollar custom-made suit. But Theo is the bane of my existence. He’s arrogant, rude, and as brash as they come. As our bank’s newest star hire, he’s also after the same promotion I am. But I didn’t make it this far in a man’s world just to be passed over for an entitled egomaniac. Two can play at this game. In a surprise to exactly no one, Theo and I butt heads from the beginning–and end up losing my biggest client with a trade gone bad. Our boss’s punishment: fly us to California together to make nice with the client—or else. When a snowstorm back home leaves us stranded on the West Coast, we learn our hotel is fully booked, save for one room. And of course that room would have only one king-sized bed. After a little too much wine, our deal to stick to opposite sides of that bed goes out the window. But on the flight home, my resolve to keep things professional remains intact, until Theo offers me a new deal. The gloves (and clothes) can come off. But the lipstick stays on… THE DEALMAKER is an all-new, outrageously sexy romantic comedy now LIVE on all retailers!
Books in Series:	Sex & Bonds Series by Jessica Peterson
Books by Author:	Jessica Peterson

Wall Street Bathroom

@WSBathroom

Overheard in stalls across Wall Street. Submit your gossip: chad69@gmail.com

New York, New York

475 Following 3.5M Followers

* * *

@WSBathroom 2/2

Well *this* is juicy: we’re hearing star trader Theo Morgan is leaving his post in NYC at Felix Brothers to trade High-Grade corporate bonds at Atlas & Teton in Charlotte, North Carolina (!!!!!)

* * *

@WSBathroom 2/2

A&T has been fending off rumors of financial trouble since their shocking earnings miss back in January. We have no idea how they wooed Theo away from Felix, but we applaud the ballsy move.

* * *

@WSBathroom 2/2

Speaking of balls, please do not send us pictures and/or selfies from your stall. We’ve had to pour bleach in our eyes one time too many. Thank you for your cooperation.

Chapter One

Nora

Fighting and fucking.

I had no idea they’re two sides of the same coin until I meet him. Theo Morgan, aka the Bull. It’s a nickname Wall Street doesn’t hand out lightly; you have to have exceptionally large balls and be an exceptionally giant asshole to earn it.

And oh, does Theo earn it.

The morning we meet, I wake up before my 4:45 a.m. alarm. It’s unusual for me—I love to sleep—but it’s notification day, and my heart is popping around my chest like a pinball. I’m always excited to get my bonus number and review; bonuses make up the lion’s share of my compensation. But today I’m extra excited. Or maybe just anxious, because my boss is handing out exactly one promotion this year, and I’m in the running to get it.

If I did, I’d be one of fifteen female managing directors on Atlas & Teton Bank’s thousand-person trading floor. One of them being my idol Paula Fernandez, my boss’s boss and global head of sales and trading. MD is the highest title in the banking world aside from CEO, and it’s one I’ve been after since I started my career in sales and trading at twenty-two, fresh out of college.

I check my phone to see if my dad responded to the text I sent him yesterday. He had a successful career in finance too, so I asked him for any advice he might have. I smile when I see he did respond, but my excitement fades when I see he just said: Good luck. Not even an exclamation point. I don’t know why I’m disappointed by his disinterest after all this time, but the impersonal reply still stings.

I refuse to let him ruin my day before it even begins, so I hop on my Peloton in an effort to sweat out my jitters. It works. By the time I’m done showering, I’m blow-drying my hair with a steady hand. If I can survive a decade in the male-dominated world of investment banking, who’s to say I can’t thrive in it too, despite some (very big) missteps along the way?

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >97

Read Online Books/Novels:

(Sex & Bonds #1) The Dealmaker

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

English

9798986161068

Sex & Bonds Series by Jessica Peterson

Jessica Peterson