Sneak Peek at DON’T CALL ME SWEETHEART
Are you ready to dive into Codi’s next release? Check out the first book in her Something Borrowed Series, Don’t Call Me Sweetheart, coming August 15th from Kensington Lyrical Shine.
Chapter One
Marley Stevenson was trapped.
If she made a left towards the frozen food section, she was going to have to listen to Mrs. Needermeyer go on about her single grandson from Berkeley, who was looking for a traditional wife. Whatever the hell that meant.
If she made a right, however, she would be cornered by Darren Weaver, who had the insane idea that Marley was interested in him. Even though she’d been telling him since he tried to kiss her in second grade that it was never going to happen.
He kept trying though, even after she’d punched him in the nose at an eighth grade dance for copping a feel. They’d both been suspended, but her mom had been proud of her. Her mom had gotten an angry call from Darren’s mom about a doctor’s bill, but she’d gladly told her to suck it.
Marley loved her mom, but situations like this made her wish she could escape Sweetheart, California already. Living in a small town could be brutal.
Of course, there was always option number three: back out of the store slowly, leaving her meager basket contents behind, but then she’d be stuck buying a sandwich at Subway again, their only fast food restaurant. How she let her refrigerator insides deplete so thoroughly, she had no clue. Maybe because she’d been so busy now that wedding season had officially started, she’d been eating mostly leftovers from caterers.
Those had run out on Tuesday though, and because she’d been in meeting after meeting the last two days, she’d been unable to make it to the store—until now. But thanks to the limited amenities in the small foothill town, she was having trouble avoiding people and places that set her already frazzled nerves on edge. She had to deal with difficult brides at work; she just wanted to breeze in and out of the grocery store without being pestered by annoyingly persistent—
“Marley!”
Damn it. She’d contemplated her escape for too long.
“How are you, dear? How’s your mother?” Mrs. Needermyer asked.
Marley pasted on her best smile. “She’s good. Busy. You should stop by the café and say hi.”
Mrs. Needermyer patted her ample waist, her faded blue eyes twinkling behind her thick glasses. “Would if I could, dear, but I’ve started a new diet. Can’t be going in there, tempted by all of your mama’s sweet treats.”
Marley smiled politely. Mrs. Needermyer was on a new diet every other week, but nothing seemed to stick.
“I know. I have a hard time not sneaking a few from the pan myself,” Marley said.
Mrs. Needermyer raked her gaze over Marley’s thin frame—and her look clearly said she had a hard time believing that, but it was true. The difference between Mrs. N and Marley was that Marley was forty years younger, ran five miles a day, and did yoga before bed five nights a week to chill out.
Plus, with Marley’s high stress job, she usually only ate once or twice a day. During wedding season she lived on coffee, almonds, and Starbursts. Not exactly the most balanced diet, but the coffee kept her from killing people, the almonds gave her protein to stand up, and the Starbursts…well, they were just freaking awesome.
“Yes, you’re lucky to be blessed with such good genes, but they won’t last forever. After thirty, things will start to slow down and travel south, if you know what I mean.”
Please, someone get me the heck out of this conversation.
“Hey there, Mrs. Needermyer.”
Marley nearly groaned aloud, and glared at her savior. Darren just grinned at her mockingly.
“I am well, Darren. I am so glad to see you. My car is making the most horrendous sound—
“If you will both excuse me, I need to get my shopping done and hurry home. Have a good day.”
Marley practically ran for the bread aisle, ignoring Mrs. N’s huff of indignation behind her. She would probably forget about the confines of her diet just to stop in and tell Marley’s mom how rude her daughter was, but at this point, Marley didn’t care. She just wanted to get this done, and go home to Butterscotch, her rabbit. She’d saved the orange and white bunny six months ago from Mr. Peltzer, who’d thought rabbit farming would be a lucrative operation. In no time, there were bunnies everywhere, and the town council members decided to close down Mr. Peltzer’s rabbit breeding, as they couldn’t have the place overrun with rabbits come wedding season.
Marley had been one of the volunteers to help gather them up, and had fallen hard for the tiny bundle of fluff, who had just hopped on over to her and head butted her hand. He was the best man to ever come into her life—that was for damn sure.
Marley tossed a package of milk and honey bread into her basket and rounded the corner, running smack into a hard male chest. When she stumbled back, a muscular arm caught her around her waist, and as she dangled there, leaning back like some historical heroine on the cover of a romance novel, she looked up into a pair of dark, twinkling eyes and a wide, white smile.
“Whoa, there. You okay?”
Marley couldn’t seem to find the words, staring up into a face made of granite: sharp cheekbones, a square jaw, and wide forehead. His ears were the only part of him that didn’t seem to fit the perfectly proportioned handsomeness; they were a bit large and stuck out a bit, but they didn’t detract at all from every other sexy aspect of him. He was built like a mountain, and reminded her of John Cena, especially the way his whole face seemed to get into his amusement.
“Blink once for yes and twice for no,” he said.
Shit, he was laughing at her for being all swoony over a pretty face.
“I’m fine,” Marley bit out finally, trying to get back up onto her feet. Once there, he released her slowly, those big hands burning through her clothes as they fell away.
She could feel her cheeks heat in embarrassment; she hated to be the butt of anyone’s joke, especially some guy who looked like he should be assisting Arnold Schwarzenegger in an Expendable movie. Plus, looking like an idiot in front of an incredibly hot guy is never fun.
“Sorry ‘bout almost taking you out there. I was trying to find the cereal aisle and got a little turned around.”
Marley had never been one for thinking accents were particularly sexy, but his southern drawl mixed with his smoky deep voice was terribly appealing.
“Is this your first time in Sweetheart?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am. Don’t suppose you could help me out by pointing me in the right direction?”
Marley knew he was playing her. The store wasn’t that big and the cereal aisle was just over his shoulder, but she really didn’t mind. It had been a while since she’d had a man, who didn’t make her want to file a sexual harassment complaint, flirt with her
“Sure, it’s just this way. I’m Marley.” She held out her hand to him, shifting her basket to her other arm.
“Luke. Good to meet you.”
Man, she loved the way he talked. “Where are you from?”
“Mississippi originally, but I’ve been living in Los Angeles the last eight years.”
“No kidding?” She stopped in front of the cereal section, waving her free arm. “Here you go. We don’t exactly have a plethora of choices, but we have most of the good stuff.”
“What’s your favorite?” he asked.
“Hmm, you mean my actual favorite or what I tell people so they don’t think I’m immature?”
He grabbed a box of Lucky Charms, shaking it in front of her. “This is mine. Which one do you actually like?”
Marley reached out and pointed to the box of Trix.
When he grabbed it and put the box in his basket, Marley raised an eyebrow. “If Lucky Charms are your favorite, then why are you buying mine?”
“Maybe I’m hoping that you’ll agree to have breakfast with me tomorrow morning?”
Marley stiffened. Did he actually think he could flash her a smile and she’d go home with him for a sleepover?
“Thanks, but I’m a strong self-sufficient woman”— she threw a box of Trix into her carton with a sniff—“and I can buy my own damn cereal.”
To her surprise, he pulled the box out of her cart and put it back on the shelf. “And while I respect that, I’m an old-fashioned guy. When I ask a girl out, I like to pay.”
“It sounded more like a proposition than a date,” she said.
He actually looked affronted, but he could just be a good actor. “Then I apologize again. I was trying to be clever, and I guess I missed the mark.”
“Hmm…Well, the next time you try to ask a girl out, maybe you should choose a less suggestive meal. Like lunch.”
“I’ll remember that.”
Marley, all traces of the lightheaded excitement gone, nodded. “Well, enjoy your stay in Sweetheart, but I have more shopping to do. By the way, what brings you here?”
“A wedding.”
“Yours?” Oh, why in the heck did I say that?
That grin was back, 100 percent male and looking self-satisfied.
“No, a friend’s. I would never hit on another woman if I was getting married.”
She could tell her cheeks were still burning, but she tried to play it through. “Good to know. Well, it was nice to meet you. I’m sorry about the—”
“Hang on now. How about that lunch?” he asked.
Marley hesitated, considering. She didn’t get involved with tourists, usually, but it would be nice to go on an actual date.
“How long are you in town?”
“This week, then every weekend until the second weekend in August.”
Weekends were usually booked solid for her. “How about Monday? I should be able to meet you around one.”
“That sounds good, but can I get your number at least?”
His teasing made her laugh at her own eagerness.
“Absolutely.”
After the number exchange, Luke took his phone back, his fingers brushing over hers lightly. That simple touch made her skin light up with tiny tingles, like the bubbles at the top of a glass of champagne.
“I’ll see you Monday. It was good bumping into you, Marley.”
He walked back down the aisle, and the minute he was out of sight, she picked up the box of Trix again with a smile. She suddenly had a craving.