Verwandte Artikel zu Always and Forever (Bayou Dreams, Band 314)

Always and Forever (Bayou Dreams, Band 314) - Softcover

Buch 2 von 6: Bayou Dreams

Rochon, Farrah

 
9780373862894: Always and Forever (Bayou Dreams, Band 314)
Softcover
ISBN 10: 037386289X ISBN 13: 9780373862894
Verlag: Harlequin Kimani Romance, 2012

Inhaltsangabe

After a run of lousy luck, Phylicia Phillips is finally close to reclaiming her cherished girlhood home in Louisiana. But before she can buy it back, Jamal Johnson beats her to the punch. The renowned architect plans to completely renovate the old place—and he wants Phylicia to help him! She doesn't trust Jamal, but she's helpless to fight the passion building between them.

Hiring the home restoration specialist to help convert the stately Victorian into a B&B was a stroke of genius. Until Jamal finds out the house was in Phylicia's family for generations. Blindsided by his desire for this alluring beauty, Jamal vows to transform their working relationship into an intimate one. But will threatening troubles from the past keep them from building a blueprint for love?

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Farrah Rochon hails from a small town just west of New Orleans. She has garnered much acclaim for her New York Sabers football series for Harlequin's Kimani Romance imprint. Farrah has been nominated for the prestigious RITA Award from Romance Writers of America and the RT BOOKReviews Reviewer's Choice Award. She can usually be found on Twitter or at a Broadway show.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

The soulful strains of Irvin Mayfield's "7th Ward Blues" streaming from the iPod speakers were drowned out by the buzz saw as Jamal Johnson split a panel of Sheetrock lengthwise down the middle. He stacked the two pieces together and propped them against his truck's lowered tailgate, then placed another board on the saw table and repeated the process.

Jamal snatched the rag from his back pocket and mopped sweat from his brow. He'd lived in the small town of Gauthier, Louisiana, for over a year now, and he still wasn't used to this oppressive heat. Arizona saw its share of triple-digit highs, but the added humidity made the air here thick enough to choke on.

He hauled the drywall up the back porch steps of the 1870s Victorian he'd purchased a few months earlier, careful not to drag it. He gingerly navigated through the narrow hallway and, when he reached the dining room, fitted the board against the exposed wall stud and positioned a nail. He slid the hammer from the holder on his tool belt, but it slipped from his fingers, crashing to the floor and tearing through the protective plastic sheeting.

"Dammit," Jamal bit out when he noticed the chip left in the hardwood flooring underneath. He tried to balance the drywall with one hand while stooping for the hammer, but his hand slipped and the Sheetrock fell forward. He hopped out of the way just before it could crash on top of him.

Jamal's head slumped in frustrated defeat as a puff of powdery dust floated up from where the drywall lay in a crumbly mess at his feet.

"Damn." He kneaded the bridge of his nose, praying the headache that had instantly sprouted behind his eyes would subside. But Jamal knew his troubles were far more complicated than the throbbing in his skull.

He was in over his head. Way over his head.

"Jamal?" called a voice from just beyond the doorway.

"Oh, great," Jamal muttered as his best friend's wife, Mya Dubois-Anderson, crossed the threshold. He forced a smile, hoping the strain of this latest debacle didn't show on his face.

"How's it. " Mya stopped short, eyeing the crumbled drywall. "Going?"

"It's going great," Jamal lied. "I was just about to get another piece of drywall. This one had a crack in it."

"Just one crack?" she asked, a skeptical brow arching in inquiry.

Jamal disregarded the mess on the floor with a nonchalant wave and motioned for Mya to follow him outside. He dusted off the porch step and aided her as she took a seat, taking care not to bump her very pregnant belly.

"So, how are things going with preparations for Christmas in Gauthier?" Jamal asked.

"It is going to be amazing," Mya said with the enthusiasm of a child who'd just won a shopping spree at a toy store. "That article in Essence magazine about the Louisiana African American Heritage Trail was the best publicity we could have ever asked for. The New City of Gauthier website is averaging five hundred hits a day. When do you think you'll have the website for Belle Maison up and running?"

The website? He was more concerned with making sure the house would be up and running.

"The website should be done any day now," Jamal assured her, making a mental note to check with his web designer. "Although, not having a website hasn't stopped anyone from finding us. Belle Maison is already booked solid for the entire monthlong celebration."

Mya visibly relaxed. "That is awesome news, Jamal. This bed-and-breakfast is vital to the civic association's long-term strategy for revitalizing the town." She winked at him. "Gauthier is lucky to have a world-class architect as a resident."

"World-class, huh? I don't know about that."

"Well, I do." She gave his forearm a gentle squeeze. "Seriously, Jamal. I cannot thank you enough. The one thing Gauthier is missing is lodging for visitors. Once this B&B opens, I just know the town is going to see a spike in tourists.

"I don't want to keep you away from work any longer," she said, rising from the porch step. "Now, you're sure Belle Maison will be ready by the start of the Christmas in Gauthier celebration, right?"

Jamal held his hand over his heart. "You have my word."

"That's good enough for me," Mya said, her smile bright and airy.

Jamal walked her to her car and waited until she'd backed out of the driveway before heading back to the disaster that awaited him in the dining room.

As he eyed the crumbled mess, Jamal grudgingly acknowledged that this stately home had gotten the better of him. His forte was designing homes; he wasn't used to the hammer-and-nails side of things. During the course of the past year, he'd definitely gained new respect for the laborers who'd worked for his family's company back in Arizona.

Unfortunately, he didn't have time to linger over this rebuild as he'd done with the house on Pecan Drive that he'd bought when he moved to Gauthier last year. If the slew of reservations wasn't enough to light a fire under his ass, the hope and excitement he'd just witnessed in Mya's eyes certainly was.

"You can't do this on your own." Jamal sighed.

He needed help. Pronto.

Jamal rubbed a distracted hand along the back of his neck, trying to ease the tension quickly building there. He knew whom he had to call, but God, he didn't want to call her. Phylicia Phillips was the last person he wanted to bring in on this project. She was bossy and opinionated.

And she was so damn fine Jamal had counted at least four times that he'd nearly been caught staring at her ass when they had both stood as attendants two months ago at Corey and Mya's wedding.

He didn't know what had come over him, but after too many torturous hours of stealing glances at the way the satin bridesmaid gown had curved over her backside, his hand had taken on a mind of its own. He'd felt himself losing control, his palm inching forward to grab her behind. If the photographer hadn't called the wedding party for more pictures at the precise moment that his hand had nearly made contact, Jamal figured he'd still be sporting a black eye, courtesy of Phylicia's right hook.

If he closed his eyes, Jamal could recall every detail as she'd walked up the aisle of the church—from her hair, entwined with peach and white flowers, to the tips of her toes, peeking from underneath the gown's satiny hem. He'd been caught off guard, seeing her in a dress. Her usual attire was jeans and a T-shirt, often littered with wood shavings and other remnants from whatever project she was working on.

Phylicia Phillips was one of the most sought-after restoration specialists in this entire region. Earlier this year, he'd hired her to restore the banister in his house on Pecan Drive, and he still marveled at the job she'd done. She was the go-to woman when it came to finding old things and making them new, which was why he needed her for this job.

Jamal tipped his head back and expelled a strained sigh.

This would be so much easier if the woman didn't confuse the hell out of him!

He'd felt a spark from the first moment he met her, but she had never given him even an inkling that she felt the same way. Jamal thought everything had changed the night of Corey and Mya's wedding. After the reception, Phylicia had suggested they go out for coffee.

They had gone to a 24/7 doughnut shop in neighboring Maplesville and spent hours talking about every topic under the sun.

Then...

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Verlag
Harlequin Kimani Romance
Erscheinungsdatum
2012
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
037386289X
ISBN 13 
9780373862894
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
224
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