Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 33209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 166(@200wpm)___ 133(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 166(@200wpm)___ 133(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
The start of a bad joke. Yeah, the jokes on me.
The description above describes one man. Rich and gorgeous, Agan Soturi.
And Mr. Fancy Pants is intent on having me.
There’s one problem. I’m a single mom not looking to hook up with anyone.
But Agan determination cracks even my iron-clad defenses.
In the end, I agree to accompany him on a business trip to a private island.
Only a storm hits, and our boat capsizes.
If I survive drowning, I’m not sure my heart will survive him.
Though Resisting Mr. Fancy Pants can be read as a standalone, you might get better enjoyment after reading either Perfect Bastard or Perfect Attraction.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
ONE
Mountainside sucked. Okay, it was bad to say your hometown was a dump, but it was. Easy to see when anyone who had a chance moved somewhere else. Which made dating hard.
It was bad enough I was a single mom and guys saw me as someone looking for a daddy for my daughter. While that was true in a way, I wasn’t desperate. The man I brought into my daughter’s life would have to be a little more than perfect. Thus, for the past six-plus years, dating anyone had been few and far between.
“Mom,” Zoe called.
Our home was less than a thousand square feet. She didn’t have to talk loudly to be heard. These days fancier places are called tiny homes. Ours was just a plain old trailer without the bells and whistles. When I got my place, I didn’t move far from home. Mom’s trailer was just next door in the small trailer park.
“Yes, honey.”
“Do I have to wear a sweater?”
“Yes. It’s cold out,” I said.
“But I get hot in school.”
“Okay. Wear your blue long-sleeved tee instead. And get a move on or we are going to be late.”
My boss at the diner worked my schedule so I could get Zoe to school, which meant I wasn’t at work for the early morning rush. I couldn’t arrive any later.
It was Zoe who ended up waiting for me at the door. “Come on, Mommy. We don’t want to be late,” she teased.
Sometimes I wondered if she was six or sixteen. “Coming,” I said, dashing out my door.
I hustled her into the car and prayed it would start. It was old and if not for Avery, my best friend, it wouldn’t be running at all. She could fix cars and was my very best—really only—friend. After I’d gotten pregnant right after high school, thanks to a guy who hadn’t been my boyfriend, I’d lost friends who didn’t want to be seen as that kind of girl. It was their loss, not mine.
The car purred to life, and I gave silent thanks. Then I drove to Zoe’s elementary school, which wasn’t more than five minutes away. Upon arrival, I joined the car drop-off lane and waited my turn.
When a teacher opened the door and helped Zoe out, I said, “Have a great day, honey.”
She flashed me a precious smile, reminding me why going through my teen pregnancy had been a blessing. She was a joy, regardless that my chance at college had died with the decision to keep her.
As my mom said, drunk or sober, make the most out of life’s lemons, with lemonade or cake or whatever you like your lemons in.
“Bye, Mommy,” Zoe said.
I waved at the teacher before pulling ahead and heading for the diner across town. Then I parked before jogging to the diner. I pulled open the door in such a rush the patrons turned to look at me. I grinned at Smiley, my boss, and said, “I made it,” while continuing my path to the back to stow my purse.
When I got back to the front, he handed me a tray. “Table eleven.”
I beamed at him and went to work. The man at table eleven wasn’t a regular. The diner was just on the outskirts of town near the highway. We had our fair share of truckers and people traveling through. Most of them didn’t wear a suit or look nearly as good as the man I’d been sent to serve. He most certainly wasn’t from around here.
“Gorgeous” didn’t begin to describe him. He had chocolate-brown hair I could imagine running my fingers through, chiseled jaw and kissable mouth, but it was his striking blue eyes that cast a spell over me. I managed to hide my surprise after a second and regain the grin that kept regulars coming back. Given I didn’t often meet attractive men I didn’t know, I was nearly tongue-tied. “Here you are. The breakfast special platter. Would you like a refill on the coffee?”
His gaze held mine for a moment before he returned my smile with a glorious one of his own. “A refill on the coffee would be nice.”
Oh boy. He had an accent too. I couldn’t place it. I reached for his mug and departed quickly, afraid he might catch me drooling. Holy hell, he was hot.
Back behind the counter, Smiley came over. “You know there are more people than him.”
I didn’t think I’d stayed at his table that long, but I wouldn’t argue. “Yes. I’m refilling his coffee.”
“Go to table seven after. They are ready to order.”
“Yes, boss.” I quickly dropped off the coffee with the handsome stranger and then moved on to table seven.
The day was pretty, and we had more customers than usual with more people on the roads, considering the snow was at bay for a time. I was caught up and barely past table eleven when Mr. Fancy Pants flagged me down.