Title: Sweet Troublemaker
Author: Jean Oram
Genre: Sweet Contemporary Romance
Cover Designer: Najla Qamber
Publisher: Oram Productions
Publication Date: May 9th, 2019
Hosted by: Lady Amber's PR
Blurb: Newly divorced Polly Morgan is feeling jaded. She hopes that extra time in the oceanside town of Indigo Bay before her friendâs wedding will help set herself straight again. However, she doesnât expect to have to save the entire event alongside the man she measures all kisses againstâher first love, Nick Wylder.
Nick hasnât seen Polly in almost two decades, but that doesnât mean heâs stopped thinking about her. Heâs pretty sure she feels the power of their rekindled love too, and heâs ready to make a move. To his Texas ranch, to her home in Canadaâanywhere as long as sheâs there.
But what will he do when his fast moves send Polly running? Can these two exes overcome their past and claim their second chance at love?
This is the first book in the all-new Indigo Bay Second Chance Romance series. All books can be read as a standalone so jump on in and indulge in these small town sweet romances. (This series is a spinoff of the Indigo Bay Sweet Romance Series.)
Jean Oram grew up in an old schoolhouse in a Canadian town, population 100 (cats and dogs not included). She is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling romance author of feel-good, tingle-inducing, heartwarming romances. Jean lives in Canada with her husband, two kids, cat, dog, and the pesky deer that wander into her yard to eat her rose bushes and apple trees. She can often be found outdoors or reading a book. (And of course at her laptop writing your next irresistible read!)
Twitter: https://twitter.com/jeanoramPolly gave him an impish smile that made Nick feel as though heâd been granted access to a secret club. To prevent himself from acting on the way her touch made him feel, he flagged down the bartender, Kelso. He nearly ordered Pollyâs childhood favorite, an ice cold root beer, before she interrupted to order a vodka martini. Nick winced, and she immediately snapped out a defensive, âWhat?â âWhy donât you just order a can of paint thinner?â How had she changed this much? Sheâd once found his love of Sprite to be boring and lacking in adventure, and heâd found her love of root beer immature. Sweetly so, although heâd never admitted it to her face. And now she was drinking high octane cocktails. Her eyebrows were somewhere around Mars and her cheeks had pinked. Sheâd forgotten their game where theyâd mock each otherâs drinks. Had she forgotten everything about him? âAre you judging my martini?â she asked. âI havenât changed in that regard,â he said, starting to think that meeting up hadnât been such a smart idea. Then again, he could finally discard her from the what-if thoughts that followed him across the pastures back in Texas. Her eyes narrowed. âJudgment from the cowboy drinking his stereotypical beer. Shall we put up a memorial for creativity and spontaneity?â He scoffed and ordered a second, trying to hide his smile. She did recall the game, after all. Kelso passed him a new bottle and Nick held up the local craft beer, turning the label toward Polly. âFor the record, this is creative.â She was still giving him that narrow-eyed look. âI bet you buy your clothes in the same store you buy your dog food and cattle tags.â She shook her head, rolling her eyes in a way that turned up both the heat inside him and his frustration over the push-pull attraction muddling his thoughts. âSo what if I do?â he retorted. âYour drink says youâre looking to get sloppy.â She appeared so affronted he laughed. âMy drink says Iâm sophisticated,â she said haughtily. âOkay.â âIt does,â she insisted. Her lips disappeared as she sucked them between her teeth. âI didnât expect you to be drinking something so strong. I expectedâ¦â That she hadnât grown up? That she wouldnât develop a slightly jaded, defensive edge like everyone else? ââ¦something with an umbrella. What do you drink at home?â âWine. Usually.â âBut a martini today becauseâ¦ flights suck?â He was probing, curious to find out more about who she was currently and how much of that old Polly was still in existence. âNope. It was good.â âYour boyfriend said no to the trip, and now you have all this new lingerie with nobody to model it for?â He held his breath, hoping that she was indeed fully single. Not that it mattered to himâhe was just looking to make her smile again. âHa,â she said flatly, her martini glass paused in front of her lips. âItâs that bad, hanging out with me, then?â A small giggle escaped against the rim. For a moment he saw that vibrant spark of youthfulness and life heâd expected to see sooner, and it nearly took his breath away. There was no hint of that sad, uncertain glimmer heâd seen earlier, meaning it was entirely possible to chase it away. âYouâre funny.â Polly bumped his shoulder with her own and he relaxed, knowing everything was good, everything was cool. At her core, she was still the friend he knew. âIâve missed picking on you,â he said. âYouâre nowhere close to picking on me.â But he was close. She wasnât as tough as she used to be. It was as though she was a book that had been dropped too many times, the edges softened and the cover not quite as sturdy as it had once been, not quite as able to protect the vulnerable pages inside. There was also the small fact that he was a little harsher, a little more jaded than heâd once been, too. âWhat are you thinking?â Polly asked. âIâm wondering how long youâre going to stick around once that drink is done.â He swiveled on his stool to face her more fully. There was a guy one stool over who kept casting surreptitious glances at Pollyâs figure. Nick could tell he wanted to chat her up if given the chance. Without thinking, Nick found himself subtly scooting his stool closer to Pollyâs. âYou have a hot date waiting for you?â she asked, pulling her small handbag into her lap as she leaned forward to take another swallow of her drink. âFive, actually. So if you could hurry it upâ¦â Polly sat expressionless for a split second before whispering, âLiar.â Her eyes were twinkling with humor. She was trying to act unaffected, but he could see she wanted to laugh, to let her guard down and play. Why didnât she? They sat in silence for a few beats, the ocean washing the shores and filling the air with a soundtrack that made his entire being relax. âSo youâre single?â he asked, immediately wishing he hadnât. She was quiet for half a breath, then pushed back her shoulders, saying, âLetâs not talk about the past.â âNot even about what a good kisser I am?â âIâm not in the market for a man, and if youâre offering, Iâll bet your skills have likely atrophied.â She lowered her chin, looking at him from beneath her eyelashes with a hint of primness that made his body awaken and want to join the gameâany game as long as it was with her. âAnd if you recallâ¦youâre just not that memorable.â Her insult was delivered in a playful, low tone that felt far too sensual. Or maybe it was how sheâd said the words slowly, her pink lips carefully forming each one in a way that hit him with a powerful twist of longing. Polly was everything he wanted in a woman. He leaned closer. âAnd why do you think my abilities may have faded?â âYour social skills are lacking, as is your charm. So chances are youâre not kissing anyone, and those abilities are similar to second-language skillsâuse âem or lose âem.â She was sitting up now, her body language as perky as her ponytail. He wanted to reach over and give it an affectionate tug to see if sheâd turn his way again. She took another sip of her drink, as though trying to fortify herself. Or maybe shield herself from something. Maybe him. âDo you want to help me revive those old skills?â he asked, propping his arms on the bar so he could lean closer to her. âSee if they can be resuscitated?â She allowed a flicker of a wry smile, but didnât change the direction of her gaze. âHow about this?â He leaned even closer, placing a warm kiss on her cheek that lingered a telling second too long. She inhaled slowly, but didnât face him, didnât say a thing. âWas that passable? Does it need reviving? More practice?â He lowered his voice. âBetter aim?â
He was asking for trouble. And despite that knowledge, he couldnât pull back on the reins. He didnât want to. Not when he was with Polly.