BAD BOY SAM + GOOD GIRL IVY = LEARNING TO LOVE AGAIN
After her last disaster of a relationship, Ivy Stephens is content being single. She has her job, her apartment—and the cute little puppy she’s seen hanging around. When he escapes, she finds her search efforts aided by a big, burly, devastatingly handsome man. One who claims a prior claim on her dog.
Sam Hamilton is at loose ends since his best friend fell in love. He finds a sense of purpose in rescuing strays. The puppy who’s stolen his heart just happens to run into blond, beautiful Ivy. And Sam can’t help hoping she’ll take in one more stray—him—for good.
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“You got that right.” She blew out a breath, feeling better having shared her sob story. Normally knowing she hadn’t been good enough for Max was enough to turn her off to ever even liking a man again. But as she waited for Sam to say something else, she was struck by the color of his eyes.
“I’ve never gone through that kind of crap with a woman. Good thing. Because I don’t like violence around women, kids or pets, and I’d be tempted to beat her ass if she ever did me wrong like that douche did you.”
Not a pretty man or a scholar. A wild, fierce, predatory male sat across from her sipping tea, agreeing with her wholeheartedly. The reassurance she wasn’t crazy for being angry felt good.
“I should let it go by now, though, huh?” She sighed. “It’s been two years since that jerk has been gone. I don’t miss him at all. But I still get so darn mad.”
“You know what your problem is?”
“You need to let loose.”
“What?” Was this where he tried to get her in bed?
“Um, okay.” She slowly stood. He stood as well and set Cookie gently down on the floor. The puppy didn’t do much more than blink once, then close his eyes and go back to sleep.
Sam stepped around him and drew her with him away from the dog.
She was ready to send him packing. Loosen up? Heck, she’d feel looser slamming the door behind his lecherous—
“Hit me. And swear a little.”
Not what she’d been expecting. “Excuse me?” She looked up, and up, at him. She stood five six in stocking feet. He had to be nearly a foot taller. Not six-six, but close to it. “How tall are you?”
“Six-four. Now focus.” He held up a hand. “Punch me. Rig