He needs to go away. Which means someone needs to matchmake him.
And I’m just the girl for the job.
Matchmaking Mischief, an all new opposites attract romantic comedy with
the perfect grumpy hero from New York Times bestselling author Denise
Grover Swank and USA Today bestselling author A.R. Casella is available
now!
Willow
There are certain expectations when you’re born into a multigenerational family of
matchmakers, which is why I fled my hometown and tried to build a life of my own.
But it turns out matchmaking is hard to quit, and I can’t stop trying to match the
customers at the bakery I manage—including my boss and the tea shop owner next
door—even though I’m hopeless at love.
So it seriously crimps my style when Alex Hunter starts coming around, working on his
book at the bakery. He’s hot, grumpy, and thinks romance is a dirty word. Worse, he
keeps distracting our customers.
He needs to go away. Which means someone needs to matchmake him.
And I’m just the girl for the job.
Alex
I’m a writer who can’t write, and lo and behold, I meet a matchmaker who’s allergic to
love.
Me being me, I fall for her.
Most of the people in this town seem insane, but I have to turn my frown upside down
and show Willow Mayberry that matchmakers deserve love too.
Excerpt
“Thank you for today,” she says quietly.
“There’s nothing to thank me for,” I say. “I enjoyed it…”
She gives me a pointed look.
“Well, obviously, except for the part where you had to go to the emergency room,
although I won’t deny that I liked looking at your ass.”
If she’d been holding a dish, she would have dropped it. “You looked?!”
“No,” I say, laughing a little at the horror on her face. “Not when she pulled your
shorts down to give you the steroid shot. Those are some shorts though.”
She looks embarrassed, and I can’t have that, so I say something stupid. “You
know, someone told me you think I’m so sexy, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking
about it all day.”
“Who told you that?” she asks, blanching. “Nicole? I barely know her.”
“You did,” I say, reaching for her hand. “When you were high on Benadryl.”
She doesn’t pull away. My heart is pounding now—I can hear it in my ears—and
I pull her to me. “You said I should be with someone bold and sexy,” I say into her ear
Her body is against me now, her breasts pressing into my chest, the curve of her hips
under my hands, and that delightfully messy hair is in the vicinity of my nose, so I can
take in her scent—citrus and vanilla. Sunshine.
“I guess I said a lot of things,” she says, her voice muffled. She’s looking down,
and I can’t have that either, so I tip her chin gently so she’s peering up at me. Her
eyes…they’re like a storm, but one feeling punches through: lust. She wants me too.
Thank God. “You’re bold,” I say. “You’re sexy as hell. Talking to you makes me feel like I’m in
Narnia.”
“What?” she asks, clearly taken off guard by that. Me and my big mouth.
“It’s just…time changes when we’re together, or even when we’re just talking. It
slips by without seeming to. I could talk to you for hours without noticing time is passing.
It’s like stepping through that wardrobe door, and—”
And I shut the hell up because she’s lifting up on her toes. With my heart soaring
in my chest, I lean down and claim her mouth, gentle at first—a getting-to-know-you
kiss—but her lips are so soft yet hungry, and a little sound escapes her throat. I’m
suddenly ravenous for her.
About Denise Grover Swank
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Denise Grover Swank was born in
Kansas City, Missouri and lived in the area until she was nineteen. Then she became a
nomadic gypsy, living in five cities, four states and ten houses over the course of ten
years before she moved back to her roots. She speaks English and smattering of
Spanish and Chinese which she learned through an intensive Nick Jr. immersion period.
Her hobbies include witty Facebook comments (in her own mind) and dancing in her
kitchen with her children. (Quite badly if you believe her offspring.) Hidden talents
include the gift of justification and the ability to drink massive amounts of caffeine and
still fall asleep within two minutes. Her lack of the sense of smell allows her to perform
many unspeakable tasks. She has six children and hasn’t lost her sanity. Or so she
leads you to believe.
About A.R. Casella
USA Today bestselling author A.R. CASELLA is a freelance developmental editor by
day, writer by night. She lives in Asheville, NC with her husband, daughter, two dogs,
and a variable number of fish. Her pastimes include chasing around her toddler, baking
delicious treats, and occasional bouts of crocheting. Any Luck at All, co-written with
New York Times bestselling author Denise Grover Swank, is her debut novel.
