All Wound Up

Only she wasn’t so little anymore. When he’d first been drafted by Tampa, he and Drake had bonded. Both of them played defense, they’d been roommates and they’d become friends. It had been that way for the past five years.

 

He’d been coming here to Granny’s house ever since that first year, back when Harmony had been in college. Now she was a woman, with a career of her own, and she’d just been dumped by some guy obviously too stupid to know what a treasure he’d had.

 

She was beautiful, with light brown skin, long, dark curly hair and those amazing amber eyes. She had the kind of body any man would want to get his hands on, curves in all the right places . . .

 

And he had no business thinking about Harmony at all, because there was a code—no messing with your best friend’s sister.

 

Absolutely not. No. Wasn’t going to happen.

 

He pushed back his chair and stood, looking down at Harmony as if she was Eve in the Garden and she’d just offered him the forbidden apple. “I know the rule, Harmony, and so do you. I think I’ll go check out what Granny made for dinner tonight.”

 

He might be tempted, but there was too much at stake. He was going to step away from the sweet fruit in front of him before he decided to do something really stupid and take a taste.

 

Because going down that road would spell nothing but doom.

 

 

 

 

 

KEEP READING FOR A SNEAK PEEK OF THE NEXT SEXY, HEARTWARMING BOOK IN THE HOPE SERIES . . .

 

 

 

 

 

COMING SOON FROM

 

 

 

 

 

REID MCCORMACK STUDIED THE BLUEPRINTS FOR THE old mercantile he’d agreed to renovate in downtown Hope. He still had no idea what he was doing back in his hometown, or why he’d agreed to this job.

 

It was a big project, and he had plenty of projects with his company in Boston. Shifting responsibilities over had been a giant pain in the ass, as was taking a leave of absence and putting his company—his baby—in the hands of his associates. He’d sweated blood and risked a hell of a lot of money to get his architectural firm up and running, and with numerous late nights and damn good work, he’d made a success of McCormack Architectural Designs.

 

The thought of not being in Boston overseeing the business sent a shot of nervousness straight to his gut. But, he had to admit, when he’d come to town for his brother Logan’s wedding in the spring, and they’d taken a look at this old place, it had been the childhood memories, plus the challenge of restoring the mercantile to its former glory, that had been too hard to resist.

 

He had ideas for the mercantile. A lot of them. And now that he and his brothers had bought the old building back from the town, it was their responsibility to do right by it. Though Logan and Luke’s contribution was limited to providing their part of the capital. As the architect in charge of the project, Reid was going to be the one to put the actual work into it.

 

He intended to do it justice.

 

And when the job was done he’d head back to Boston, where he belonged.

 

Because while Hope would always be home to him, it wasn’t his home anymore.

 

So now he stood in the middle of a pile of crap covering the main floor of the old mercantile, his boots kicking around years’ worth of dust and debris. He might be the youngest McCormack brother, but he had great memories of this old place.

 

His lips ticked up as he remembered the old building in its glory days. One particular day, Dad was walking them past, trying to corral three rambunctious boys on their way to the ice cream store. Reid was always the best behaved, so he’d stayed by Dad’s side while Logan and Luke ran off ahead, getting into one thing or another. But he and Dad had stopped to look inside. At the time, there had been offices, with busy people doing their jobs. Even at age five, Reid had been fascinated by the old brick building. Dad had been, too. Reid could still remember the people inside stopping to smile and wave at him. And he’d waved back.

 

Mom hadn’t been with them that day. She often wasn’t. Raising kids hadn’t been her favorite thing.

 

Had she ever come to town with them? She’d often gone into Tulsa by herself to shop. But she’d never brought him or his brothers along. She’d said they were too rowdy and she needed her space.

 

Yeah, she’d needed a lot of space. So much space that as soon as Reid had turned eighteen, she’d taken a hike.

 

Forever.

 

He heard a knock on the front door, dissipating the cloud of memories.

 

Figuring it was the general contractor he’d hired—or maybe his brothers, who were also supposed to meet him here today, he went to the door and pulled it open.

 

It wasn’t the contractor or his brothers. It was Samantha Reasor, the owner of the flower shop around the corner. Sam was the one who’d pushed hard for them to take on this project. Or rather, for him to take it on. She was as passionate about the mercantile as anyone in Hope.

 

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