Series: Fulton U #3
I’ve roped Jules, my sweet as pie next door neighbor, to help me track her
There’s only one problem—I’m falling for her. The tortoise shell glasses, out
of this world curves and delicious treats are making the search for The Letter
Girl even harder.
My notes were supposed to be a one time thing. A little too much wine and
naughty thoughts on a winter’s night. I never thought Berk would write back. I
wanted to tell him it was me, but the fear of rejection kept my lips sealed.
Now he’s enlisted my help to track down The Letter Girl and our search has him
hot on my, ahem, her trail.
She’s the girl next door.
He’s my secret pen pal.
Truth is on a collision course with their hearts and it’s only a matter of time
before one of them gets wrecked…
myself in the mirror again. I was a lumpy diva, but, fuck it, I was a badass,
too. And I was slowly skidding closer to the ground as the sweat that gathered
behind my knee loosened my grip.
how far I’d come. From the first days of slipping off trying to do a basic spin
with my feet planted firmly on the floor, to being a diva. This was my freaking
body and I loved the shit out of it.
in one more spin for my imaginary audience.
sweating like I’d run a 5k, with a grin so damn wide I felt it in my toes.
Jumping up and down, I gave myself a high five and a few club-worthy woos.
It made it harder to figure out if I was doing the tricks one hundred percent
correctly, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to record myself to watch later or
head to a pole dancing studio with full-wall mirrors. I wasn’t at that level of
okay with me in all my glory—yet.
hip-hugging short shorts and sports bra gave me little coverage, but pole
dancing wasn’t exactly about modesty. I’d given it a try at the urging of my
therapist during freshman year and hell if it hadn’t helped—some. It was a way
for me to build strength, body confidence, and maybe attempt to feel a little
heart racing to ‘floor it, Louise,’ careening toward a cliff. I shot up and
fell off my bed, rattling the perfume bottles on my dresser. Scrambling off the
floor, I grabbed my sweatpants and tugged them on, hopping from foot to foot
and sounding like I’d taken up bowling in my bedroom. I snagged my glasses off
my desk and shoved them onto my face.
in my room. I grabbed my long sleeved T-shirt and hoodie off the back of my
chair even though it was August. The fabric clung to my sweaty skin and I
probably had a sweat-stashe going on, but that was better than him walking up
here and finding me half naked. A panic spiral shot through me and I got
dressed even quicker and threw open my door.
doorway. The butterflies in my stomach were replaced by a whole freaking
safari. I tightened my lips to what I hoped was a non-serial killer level of
smile. My heart was glowing like a spotlight, so I wrapped my arms tighter
around myself. Tingles tiptoed up and down my spine at the sight of his floppy
hair and jeans that hugged his ass and trim waist better than mine ever fit me.
his mouth broke off and dropped onto the counter. “There you are.” His words
were muffled behind two manhole cover-sized cookies.
and a direct hit. “The old cookie box.”
Hughes, that’s me!, can often be found sneaking in another chapter while hiding
in the bathroom from her kids! 🙂 I’m a romance writer who loves taking
inspiration from everyday life, namely my husband and biggest fan. Inspiration
also strikes when I hear a song, meet someone new or daydream while at soccer
writing stories that capture the possibilities of the paths less travelled and
enjoy experiencing life through my characters’ eyes.
of three little ones, the wife to an amazing husband and also work full time.
Some of my favorite things are cupcakes, cinnamon rolls, white wine, laughing
until I can’t breathe, traveling with my family and Jeff Goldblum.