Looking for a quick, hot, summer read? Step into The Kandy Shoppe!
Copyright 2008 Debora Dennis.
All rights reserved.
Available from Blade Publishing
The Kandy Shoppe
A broken freezer in her old-fashioned ice cream parlor isn't the only reason things are heating up in The Kandy Shoppe. Jason's been waiting for his second chance with Kandy for years while she's been hiding behind her frozen assets. A little melting ice cream, a lot of red-hot desire and dessert may take on a whole new meaning.
Excerpt from Chapter 2:
Jason parked the company van in his reserved spot next to the back door of Chapman Air-conditioning and Refrigeration and leaned over the wheel. Not a whole lot of activity going on from what he could tell. The door was closed, and Tom’s van in its usual spot. Which meant he was probably inside doing paperwork.
Jason pulled the keys from the ignition and tossed them up and down, catching and releasing them idly while his eyes shifted between the closed back door of the shop and his new red Jeep. The hum of the shop air-conditioner might be loud enough for him to get the Jeep started without his elephant-eared brother overhearing.
He decided to take his chances. There was no way he could work the rest of the day. He had a dinner to plan, needed to rest up and solidify exactly what he was expecting the outcome to be. After all, seducing the pants off Kandy seemed easy enough this morning, but by tonight she’d be back in her armored suit. He couldn’t blow this opportunity he’d worked months to orchestrate.
Keeping a girl’s industrial freezer in non-working order didn’t happen overnight. Now that he’d offered to buy her a new one, tonight might be his last chance to make things right between them.
He got out of the van and gently closed the door. The key was in the Jeep lock before he remembered the alarm. Damn.
“Jay.” Tom’s familiar rasp came from the doorway. “I thought we had a deal?”
“We do.” Jason rolled his eyes and yanked the key out of the door. Best laid plans and all that jazz, maybe for some other poor schmuck but not him. Tom was going to hold him to the bargain they’d made, and he’d be forced to work the rest of his day off. He’d have to work out dinner plans between jobs.
The back door slammed behind them as they walked past Camille, the receptionist, and into the small office. One desk, two chairs, a pile of paperwork he could barely see over, and a half-eaten sandwich all added up to an extra large dose of guilt. Guilt that he shouldn’t be feeling. It wasn’t like he didn’t do his share of the work around here. He did the paperwork and ate at that desk when he was on-call. But today was supposed to be his day off.
No, he didn’t feel guilty Tom had all that paperwork on his desk.
Twinges of guilt aside, he felt energized.
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