Summer’s Family Affair
by Cynthia Gail
Jenny Cohen defines successful independence: she put herself through college, couldn’t ask for better friends, owns a consulting firm, wears designer clothes, and just moved into her dream home . . . But she’s alone, except for her ailing mother whom she supports in a nursing home. As the marketing consultant for Chester, Dorsey & Tanner, she’s surrounded by male attention. Too bad it’s the overly-protective big-brother type.
Architect, Craig Stone, hasn’t looked at another woman since his wife passed away four years ago. His time is taken—building a career while trying to be both mother and father to his eight-year-old son. But when his appointment with the largest development firm in Nashville is double-booked with a black-haired beauty, he finds himself reaching for new possibilities.
The attraction sets off more fireworks than the Fourth of July. Yet, their relationship is riddled with issues neither one of them expected. Somewhere in the middle they must find a way to compromise or let go of a chance for love they may never find again.
Jeffry started sifting through his calendar. Jenny casually peeked from the corner of her eye as Brandon led Craig through the lobby.
He was watching her. When his slow perusal drifted back up from her feet, his big blue eyes met hers and she melted on the spot. He’d instantly looked contrite, then winked as he passed by. She had goose bumps, despite the heat she felt from his gaze. He gave off an electric tension she’d never felt before.
She shook her head, shifting her thoughts back to the calendar while watching him disappear around the corner. “Tomorrow at noon. Two full hours. You’ll need to have a light lunch brought in,” she said.
Jeffry didn’t answer.
“I know it’s open. That’s where your temp had Mr. Stone originally.”
“How did you know that?” He chuckled, then waved his hand. “Oh, don’t answer. Yes, it’s available and I’ll push his one-thirty back, so you can have the full two hours. I’ll let Jack know you’ll be here and we’re serving food. He’ll be back in the office and might want to sit in.”
He gave her a conspiratorial grin. “By the way, his name is Craig and I got the distinct impression he liked the shoes, too. If you know what I mean?”
“Goodbye, Jeffry. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She turned and stepped onto the open elevator. Once the door closed, she leaned her head against the back wall, let out a long sigh, and willed her heartbeat to slow.
My husband and I live in the suburbs of Nashville, Tennessee with our three dogs. When I’m not working or writing, I can be found with family and friends. I love to bake in the winter, grill in the summer, and on occasion, I sneak away from everyone and curl up with a good book.
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