Forever
Found
Forever Friends #2
by
Allyson Charles
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Pub
Date: 10/9/2018
Head
vet at the Forever Friends animal rescue shelter, Gabriel Moretti is
known as the Dog Whisperer because of his gift for soothing
rambunctious patients. But it’s the two-legged species that has
him, and his libido, working overtime. Marla Popov single-handedly
saved the shelter from financial ruin. But the bossy trust funder is
even more irritating than her snooty Standard Poodle. You’d think
keeping his attraction on a short leash would be a no-brainer for
Gabe. Unfortunately, Marla is also smart, beautiful, and intriguing .
. .
Most of her life,
people have been eager to tell Marla just what she wants to hear. So
now that she’s nearing forty, she doesn’t expect to be
refused—especially by a sexy younger man like Gabe. She also
doesn’t expect it to sting so much. But when she discovers a scheme
involving illegal dog fights, she gets a chance to show what she’s
truly made of. And as she and Gabe team up to fight it, they discover
a surprising respect for each other—and passion that might just
grow into love. . .
Forever
Home
Forever
Friends #1
LOVE
UNLEASHED
Isabelle Lopez has never been a dog person. Raising her daughter alone and building a real estate career leaves no time for four-legged furballs. When she finds an abandoned mutt and litter of pups in a foreclosed apartment, Izzy intends to drop them off at a shelter and walk briskly away. Instead, her “heroic” deed makes her a local celebrity. Her boss is thrilled. Commissions are up. And thanks to gorgeous shelter owner Bradley Cohen, Izzy’s disciplined life is suddenly much, much more complicated.
He’s got a sexy smile, a wicked sense of humor, and a big, noble heart. Even as Izzy tries to get her libido to heel, boy, Bradley sets out to convince her there’s more to life than padding her bank account. But Izzy knows a trade secret that puts Brad’s beloved shelter at risk, and she can’t warn him.
Their relationship was barely getting started; suddenly it’s in the dog house. Now Izzy and Brad need to figure out what matters most, and whether this could be much more than animal attraction…
Isabelle Lopez has never been a dog person. Raising her daughter alone and building a real estate career leaves no time for four-legged furballs. When she finds an abandoned mutt and litter of pups in a foreclosed apartment, Izzy intends to drop them off at a shelter and walk briskly away. Instead, her “heroic” deed makes her a local celebrity. Her boss is thrilled. Commissions are up. And thanks to gorgeous shelter owner Bradley Cohen, Izzy’s disciplined life is suddenly much, much more complicated.
He’s got a sexy smile, a wicked sense of humor, and a big, noble heart. Even as Izzy tries to get her libido to heel, boy, Bradley sets out to convince her there’s more to life than padding her bank account. But Izzy knows a trade secret that puts Brad’s beloved shelter at risk, and she can’t warn him.
Their relationship was barely getting started; suddenly it’s in the dog house. Now Izzy and Brad need to figure out what matters most, and whether this could be much more than animal attraction…
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Chapter One
Some days just sucked from the start
and went downhill from there. Gabe Moretti knew this was one of those days.
Tapping his fingers on his steering wheel, he dug deep for the restraint not to
blare his horn at the old man at the pump in front of him. The Gas & Stuff
had two islands with two gas pumps on each one. Two of those pumps were blocked
off by a tanker truck, refueling the station’s supply. A dented Ford Fiesta sat
at the front pump of the other island, filling up, and behind that car was
the old man’s Oldsmobile.
The geezer had finished pumping gas a
minute ago, but now was washing every window with streak-free accuracy. The man
tugged a handkerchief from his back pocket and lovingly buffed the frame of the
driver’s door.
Gabe dropped his head onto the car’s
seatback. He had an eleven o’clock appointment with a favorite patient of his and hated to make the girl wait. Most animals
instinctively had a fear of veterinarian offices, and Shelley, a sweet-tempered
cocker spaniel, was no exception. The less time she had to spend shivering in
the waiting room, the better.
Snowflake had been another favorite.
Gabe swallowed, the back of his throat thick. By now, his body should have been
picked up from the office by the crematory service. It had been Snowflake’s
time—Gabe knew it—but that never made putting a dog down any easier.
The pump hog bent over at the waist and
unscrewed the cap from the valve stem of his front tire. He pulled a small
metal check valve from another pocket.
“Oh, come on.” Turning his ignition
off, Gabe put a hand on his door, prepared to tell the man to move his car to
the side for all this bullshit. Gabe didn’t care how ancient he was. Rude was
just rude, and a person didn’t block a spot to check the air in his tires.
The owner of the Ford Fiesta replaced
the nozzle and climbed behind the wheel of her car. She pulled out, leaving the
front pump empty.
Finally. Turning the ignition, Gabe put
his Chevelle in reverse, backed up two feet, and shifted into drive. He rolled
an inch before slamming on his brakes, barely avoiding the Jaguar XK
convertible that flew past him and squealed into the empty spot.
His spot.
He turned his car back off, gritting
his teeth, and threw his door open. He recognized that car. More, he recognized
the woman angling her body out of the convertible and strutting to the pump.
His anger faltered for a moment when
her long, bare legs came into view. Those legs were the first thing he’d
noticed about her when they’d met. She was a tall woman, and her toned and
tanned legs seemed to stretch forever. She was wearing some kind of
straw-covered platform sandals, adding another couple of inches to her already
impressive height, and a pair of red shorts that should have been illegal for
the amount of skin they exposed.
Her sense of entitlement had been the
second thing he’d noticed, and its appearance now brought his anger flaring
back to life. He strode toward her. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?
There’s a line here.”
Marla Popov turned, nozzle in her hand
and a surprised ‘O’ rounding her red lips. His stomach tightened. Jesus,
everything about her was cherry. Her shorts, her car, her lipstick. Even her
toenails were painted that deep, luscious red. The tempting splashes of color
made him want to lean in and take a bite. Physically, this woman did it for
him. Her selfish attitude, however, was another story. That spoiled his
appetite right quick.
She tugged at the silk scarf that was
knotted under her chin like she was Jackie O, and it slipped off her head and
landed on her shoulders. The golden highlights in her strawberry blond hair
caught the morning sun. The strands shimmered from blond to apricot to peach, a
silky sunrise. She probably spent more money getting that color than most
people did on food in a month.
Shooting him a bright smile, she stuck
the gas nozzle into her Jag. “Hi, Gabe. I didn’t see you there. I’ll be super
quick.”
“You’ll be super gone.” He crossed his
arms over his chest. “There was a line. That is my spot. Move.”
She shook her head, as if he’d said
something cute, and a hole burned into his gut. Her black standard poodle, who
sat in the passenger seat wearing a matching and equally ridiculous scarf on
its head, apparently didn’t find Gabe as amusing. She growled and stuck one paw
on the creamy leather armrest between the driver’s and passenger’s seats,
looking ready to launch herself at Gabe. For once, the feeling was mutual.
There weren’t many animals Gabe didn’t like, but Marla Popov’s sissied-up
poodle was one of them. The fur on her body was shaved close, except for little
poofs that covered her lower legs, like fluffy leg warmers. A bubble of dark
fur peeked out underneath the scarf. The red leather collar she wore dripped with
crystal.
It wasn’t the dog’s fault. She was Marla’s,
and dogs frequently took on the traits of their owners. As Marla was an
annoying prima donna, it was only to be expected that the animal would have
personality issues, too.
Gabe still didn’t like the poodle.
Allyson
Charles is
the author of humorous, small-town contemporary romance, including
the Forever series and the Pineville Romance series. Born in
California, Allyson now happily resides in Colorado in order to avoid
the outrageous gas prices and the soul-sucking traffic of the Golden
State (although it really does have the best weather). She worked as
an attorney for over a decade before deciding that writing about
men’s briefs was a lot more fun than writing legal ones. To find
out what she’s up to next, visit her website at allysoncharles.com.
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