Kensington is hosting a Tour Wide Giveaway for three paperback copies of JUST THE WAY YOU ARE by Beverly Barton
Just the
Way You Are
By: Beverly Barton
Releasing Jan 27th, 2015
Zebra Books
The South sizzles in New York Times
bestselling author Beverly Barton’s sultry tale of a woman torn between two
brothers…
Mary Beth
Caine has always been the good girl in her small Mississippi town. But when a
big, protective, shamelessly sexy stranger offers to console her on the night
of her disastrous engagement party, Mary Beth lets him—only to discover that
Parr Weston also happens to be the older brother of her fiancé, Bobby Joe.
Parr left
Mississippi after years spent holding his family together. Now that he’s back,
he can’t steal Bobby Joe’s woman, and he sure can’t offer Mary Beth the tidy
happily-ever-after she deserves. But everything about the petite beauty—from
her flame-gold hair to her artless sensuality—makes him crave her more. Love or
lust, right or wrong, all he knows is that nothing has ever felt like this
before, and walking away will be the hardest thing he’s ever had to do…
“Right. But there
is a question I’d like to ask.”
“Go ahead. You can
say anything you like. This night couldn’t get any weirder.”
“What if I said
that I needed you?”
Her lips parted
with evident surprise. “Huh? You need me?”
Her startled gaze
met his. Parr wished there was a surefire way to get her to understand what was
on his mind. But he couldn’t quite define it himself.
“I think I do.”
“Really,” she said,
her voice laced with wry amusement.
“The love of my life, whom I thought I knew,
doesn’t need me at all, and a total stranger apparently does.”
“It was just a
question. I’m not sure what I meant by it.”
“That makes two of
us. Just the two of us.” She surveyed him warily.
Parr nodded. Just
the two of us. He liked the sound of that. Maybe he hadn’t overstepped the
bounds of propriety or whatever rules were in effect when rescuing a damsel in
distress.
“I guess—well, it
seemed to me you needed a kiss, that was all.”
“Is that something
you do often? Find an unhappy woman and plant one on her?”
“No. And it wasn’t
like I was looking for you.”
That tiny dimple
appeared above her slight—very slight—smile. Nonetheless, Parr had a feeling
she was taking him seriously, for reasons known only to herself. Maybe she was
just used to men throwing themselves at her feet.
Which was all the
more reason not to let her walk away. But she honestly didn’t seem outraged by
his impulsively romantic gesture and she certainly didn’t seem scared of him.
So far, so good.
But where did they go from here?
She put her
fingertips to her temples and rubbed. “I think I need something to eat,” she
said. “I feel a little dizzy.”
“Good idea.” He
looked around for a waiter, not seeing a single one in the thickening crush of
people. The place was jammed and the music cranked up to deafening levels.
“There has to be a menu around here somewhere. I’ll grab one. Be right back.”
He stopped for a second after he got up. “What’s your name? You never did say.”
“No. I didn’t. Just
get a menu. Please.”
Exchanging vital
information like that would just have to wait. She was grateful for a few
moments alone, which she desperately needed, to think about just what the hell
she was doing here. With him.
Whatever his name
was.
Mary Beth sipped
her Coke, which had lost most of its fizz, and watched him shoulder through the
crowd.
He had to turn
around once to get past an entwined couple who’d just set down their cocktails
to smooch and cuddle, generating the usual friendly advice to get a room.
None of her
business. She just hoped other hearts weren’t being broken.
The look on his
craggy, masculine face as he eased by the oblivious pair was priceless, though.
He wasn’t really
handsome. More like rugged. The waitress he asked for a menu perked up when she
handed him one, obviously just as attracted to his jewel-brown eyes. Even from
this distance, his eyes
sparkled with
devilment. She felt a tiny pang of jealousy that she instantly dismissed.
But he didn’t seem
interested in the waitress once he had scored a menu. Good. She kept on
studying him as he got closer, which was taking a while.
His features were
too roughly hewn, his nose too hawkish for him to be considered classically
goodlooking. He was a real man in every sense of the word, hard, tough, maybe
even a little too masculine.
If there was such a
thing, she couldn’t help thinking.
The revolving
spotlights that pierced the dim atmosphere of the lounge touched his hair now
and then, making it gleam darkly. She wouldn’t mind doing the same thing. That
thick sable hair looked extremely touchable. She suppressed a smile of
admiration when several guys stepped aside, consciously or unconsciously ceding
their turf to him. He was big, so very big. The kind of man who looked as if he
could carry the burdens of the world on those massive shoulders.
And he’d been bold
enough to say he needed her.
Hmm. Although it
was possible that it was a pickup line, it actually hadn’t sounded like one.
More like a statement of fact.
But she was in no
condition to judge accurately after the devastating discovery in suite 5-C. Or
rather, in the storage closet next to suite 5-C. She had knocked on the door by
mistake and heard a low-voiced yes at almost the same moment. And she’d opened
the door.
Her fingers
tightened on her cold, empty glass. All she could think was payback time.
Someone richly deserved it. She couldn’t figure out how, exactly, not just yet.
But she would.
The man who needed
her had stopped to talk to a pal. He didn’t nod in her direction or give any
indication that they were together, for which she was grateful.
She was still
somewhat numb, basically unable to form a coherent thought. Or maybe stunned
was a better word. The intensity of her attraction to this wellbuilt stranger
was affecting her ability to reason, on top of everything else.
Raw emotion was no
balm for her hurting heart.
Unless she was just
experiencing a powerful physical reaction and nothing more.
She did want him
that way. The feeling was new and wild. She’d never wanted a man just
physically before in her whole life.
At the moment, he
seemed to be unable to extricate himself from an unwanted conversation. He
finally did manage a reassuring glance at her over his friend’s shoulder. He
was coming back.
He cared. Good
enough. If this encounter lasted a grand total of an hour, start to finish, he
still cared enough to treat her right.
Mary Beth was all
about doing right, first and foremost. Above all, she believed that you took
care of your family and loved them best. Next to that was her work. She
genuinely cared for the young students who came to talk to her in confidence.
As a school social worker, she knew a lot about life that she hadn’t personally
experienced.
She had convinced
herself that she loved her fiancé and that she was ready to take the huge step
of starting a family of her own. At least she was sure she hadn’t accepted his
proposal for any of the wrong reasons. She didn’t need him to be financially
secure. She didn’t have to have a man around the house just
because she’d been
so close—and still was—to her widowed father, Harold Caine.
No. She’d gotten
engaged because it was the logical next step in her orderly life, a perfectly
reasonable idea that had shattered into a million pieces when, by mistake, she
opened the closet door next to the suite the guys had used to change into
formal wear.
In seconds, her
whole damn life had changed. There was no going back.
If one of her
girlfriends should dare to tell her to get over herself, that men were just
teenage boys at heart who could be expected to fool around one last time before
they got dragged down the aisle—well, so much for that friendship. Mary Beth
drew the line at cheating.
Though this was the
first time she’d been cheated on. She amended the thought. This was the first
time she knew for sure she’d been cheated on. It felt horrible.
Any woman so
lacking in self-respect that she put up with crap like that even once would be
doomed to a lifetime of it.
No way. Not her.
But she had no Plan B. And now here she was in a noisy lounge staring at a man
who made her feel like she actually mattered. And feeling flummoxed.
He’d come to her
aid instantly. And held her as if he knew what had just happened when he didn’t
know a thing. Tried to help. Been a gentleman the entire time, including that
funny, old-fashioned kiss. She’d felt like a lady.
In that roughly
tender voice, he’d claimed out of nowhere that he’d needed her and seemed as
surprised by his confession as she had been.
It was impossible
to tell why or how it had all happened so fast, but she still wanted him to
hold her, to caress her, to love her. By all rights she should be afraid of
him, but she just wasn’t. Her barely restrained desire ought to have been a
warning not to get involved, but she didn’t hear any alarm bells.
Mary Beth didn’t
think anyone had ever really needed her, not even her lovingly protective
father. Being a widower with a growing child who was only four years old when
he’d had to learn to do for himself after his wife’s death in childbirth,
Howard Caine had become a very independent man who did it all, including
cooking and cleaning.
It was only natural
that his daughter grew up to be a strong, independent woman taking care of
herself too. She had a BA and a master’s in social work, and a career she
loved. She invested her own money and had been saving for a house even before
she met her soon-to-be-former fiancé, that rat bastard. Life skills were par
for the course: she could change a tire, and she could even hem a dishcloth,
although she never did, considering that the dollar store sold perfectly good
dishcloths every day of the week for ninety-nine cents plus tax.
But more than
anything she wanted a real family of her own, and especially a mother-in-law
who could substitute for the mother she’d lost.
She’d been so sure
that her fiancé and his wonderful mother would help make her dreams a reality.
There was plenty of family on his side—he was always after her to check out
zillions of photos online, what with all the cousins and a big brother who
lived out of state but was still the head of the family somehow.
Mary Beth had never
gotten around to it. Social media wasn’t her thing and she didn’t even have a
Facebook page. After long hours on the job, solving problems right and left for
so many people, she wasn’t interested in posting and instant messaging or
photos of what anyone’d had for lunch and carefully posed selfie shots.
Outside of meeting
a few individuals at various get-togethers, she really didn’t know much about
the family she’d wanted so much to be part of. Perhaps she had instinctively
been aware even then that reality would never live up to her girlish fantasies.
After tonight, she realized that her unfaithful boyfriend was hardly the man of
her dreams.
There was no doubt
whatsoever in her mind that he had secretly reconnected with his former flame
on some damn Web site designed for people who wanted to do things like that.
She didn’t spend a lot of time online but she had a general idea of what was
out there.
Betrayal was just a
click away.
Lesson learned. She
wouldn’t be so naive next time.
Beverly
Barton was an award-winning, New York Times bestselling author of more than
fifty novels, including Silent Killer, Cold Hearted, The Murder Game and Close
Enough To Kill. Readers can visit her website at www.beverlybarton.com
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