Kind of Cursed
by Stephanie Fournet
Published December 12th 2019 by Stephanie Fournet
Every woman in Millie Delacroix’s family is cursed—kind of.
Birth control just doesn’t work for them. Like ever. Going to the altar knocked up is pretty much a family tradition. And twenty-four-year-old Millie refuses to let that happen to her—again.
Especially now that she’s responsible for raising her brothers and sister. A life of celibacy is her best defense—at least until the kids are grown and can take care of themselves. And, really, what’s ten years with no sex? No men. No sex. No love. It’s a fool-proof plan.
Until she meets Luc Valencia.
The Mexican-American contractor is just trying to do his best. Since his father handed him the reins to the family business, every day is a test to prove himself. At this point in his life, professionalism has to be his top priority.
At least until Millie becomes Luc’s client. Even with too much on her shoulders, the feisty redhead has the power to set him off, crack him up, or bring him to his knees.
All he has to do is resist falling for her through one kitchen remodel, and everything will be fine. Right?
Excerpt from Chapter Thirteen
Dios mío, she’s funny when she’s not carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. I laugh until a thought brings me up short.
I’d like to shoulder some of that weight.
The image grips me and won’t let go. Me wrapping an arm around her, wedging a shoulder under that burden she carries around, and giving her some breathing room.
Some laughing room.
And even though I want to, I can’t laugh anymore. I grasp for the first thing that comes to mind. “Are you Cajun?”
She arches a deep red brow. “Do I look Cajun?”
You look angelic.
I hope I hide this thought behind a look of skepticism. “Are we still talking stereotypes? Because if I had to pick, I’d say Irish.”
Her smile gleams. “My mother’s maiden name was Bailey.”
I want to ask if her mother was a redhead like she is, but she looks so happy right now. I don’t want to mess that up.
“Do I look Cajun?”
This sets her off, and she’s laughing again. “I don’t think either of us makes the cut.”
I chuckle. “I’m too brown, and you’re not brown enough.”
This seems to sober her, and she straightens up, covering her mouth. “I don’t think—I didn’t mean—”
I shake my head to stop her. “I know I’m brown. It’s not a secret,” I tease, wanting her to know she’s done nothing to offend me. In demonstration, I hold out my forearm just inches away from her lily-white hand. “Pretty obvious.”
As usual, she has on a long-sleeved T-shirt under her scrubs. Without a word, she pulls up the sleeve and lines up her forearm next to mine. Not touching, but close. The difference is crazy. Like whole milk next to maple syrup.
The blonde peach fuzz rises from her skin, invisible except for where the light hits it just right. It looks crazy soft. Because I have to, I lean in and let the length of my arm touch hers. I feel those light hairs whisper against my skin, and I hold my breath so I can’t make a sound. Because she doesn’t pull away. Because her skin on mine looks better than anything I’ve seen in a long time. Because it feels better too.
“Bronze,” she says, her voice hoarse and almost inaudible beneath the whir of the giant fan. I glance up to find her gaze fixed on our arms, her lashes low.
“What?” And because I’ve been holding my breath, I sound choked, thirsty.
“It isn’t brown,” she says, almost absently. “It’s bronze.” And the way she says it makes me think bronze is her very favorite color.
I swallow, heat erupting over every inch of my skin. My bronze skin.
God, I want to touch her. All over.
She’s. A. Client. No. Touching.
About the Author:
Amazon bestselling romance author Stephanie Fournet has nine novels and one novella to her name. She lives in Lafayette, Louisiana—not far from the Saint Streets where her books are set. She shares her home with her husband John and their needy dogs Gladys and Mabel, and sometimes their daughter even comes home from college to visit them. When she isn’t writing romance novels, Stephanie is usually helping students get into college or running. She loves hearing from readers, so look for her on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and stephaniefournet.com.
Post a Comment
Due to time constraints we may not be able to personally respond to every comment made, but we do read and appreciate them all. 📚❤️🙂
✋ RBtWBC has a zero-tolerance policy for review harassment and author bashing. Such comments will be deleted at the the blog's discretion.