Summer Love in the Country (Summer Instalove)

I had told myself that this vacation would be perfect to completely focus and get my writing

done. Dean was so gorgeous, so charming and comfortable to be around, that I wasn’t

sure whether I should hope we spent a lot of time together or not.

He would definitely be a giant distraction. But in some strange way, even though I’d just met

him, I was fairly relaxed with him. Above all else, I was certainly intrigued.

CHAPTER TWO

* Dean *

When I felt a tiny spark shaking Joanna’s hand, I told myself it was a complete fluke. When

I felt a giant spark through my entire body when I took her hand to help her out of the truck, I forced myself to ignore it.

I promised myself years ago after a round of barely adequate dating that I would never

bother with a relationship if it wasn’t real. It wasn’t worth it. A young woman who was just

figuring out what she was doing with her life might not be ready for a real relationship. I

didn’t want to fall too hard, then watch her leave since I couldn’t give her what she needed.

None of my coworkers had ever teased me about how sensitive I was, because I would

never let them know. I had loved far too easily a few times, and now I had my guard up. Or

at least, I thought I did. Watching Joanna’s bright, curious eyes stirred things inside me that I thought were long gone.

It had been nearly nine years since I’d really touched a woman, and I’d never had any

trouble keeping my hands to myself until I was in her bedroom. The urge to push her back

onto the bed and devour her whole was nearly overwhelming.

I thought I was a man who was afraid of nothing. Yet that reaction almost made me

nervous. No matter. I would keep my distance and treat her like any other guest.

After quickly sharpening a couple of tools out in the barn, I went to my tiny room at the back of the main house to have a quick shower before supper. I realized that I was rushing more

than usual, but there didn’t seem to be anything I could do about it.

My feet hustled to the dining room ten minutes early. Sticking my head into the enormous

kitchen, Miriam was showing three young ladies the mystical secrets of her salad dressing.

The girls were hanging on her every word, entranced. Everyone loved Miriam – she was an

engaging sort of drama queen who thrived on an audience. She was also the hardest

working, most down to earth person that anyone would ever meet. Her kitchy flowered

aprons and cheesy decor like the giant hummingbird clock shared her quirky sense of

humor immediately. A glittering daisy hair clip shone from atop her light brown bun that was