Title: Finding My Safe
Series: Finding #3
Author: Halo Roberts
Genre: Steamy Romantic Comedy
Release Date: February 3, 2020
The songs say love
is in the water…and strange…here’s hoping love is also at
Joe’s bar…and not actually strange.
I met the love of
my life in a little town called Gravity once…too bad she was with another guy
that night. When fate throws me a second chance, it adds a twist I didn’t see
Taking him home,
that’s a good plan, right? I’m just being neighborly. Just being neighborly…geez
I don’t even believe that myself. I’m bringing 6’5” of muscle bound,
ink-covered, bearded goodness home with me, because he’s hurt, he has no one
else…and I think I might love him a little. ~Wren
When Wren and Kane
meet again, far away from sleepy little Gravity, Georgia, things have changed.
Wren is graduating med school, ready to start her residency soon. She’s got a
cat who likes to steal t-shirts with amazingly perfect timing, a
not-even-a-boyfriend that won’t take a hint, and an inability to say no when a
bachelorette party for an acquaintance takes them to a seedy bar on the
outskirts of town.
Kane is under
pressure to pay for the sins of his father, and the life he thought was buried
just won’t stay dead. An ambush in an alley makes him depend on Wren far more
than he expected. The real question is, can they find love in the midst of
five-dollar tequila shots, surprise proposals and the bright lights of Las
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“This book has it all, humor, hotness, intense and swoon
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“As always – I could not stop laughing, her character’s
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suck. Elbowing my way through the crowded bar, I curse Gran for teaching me
manners as a child. If it weren’t for her, I would have given this whole night
a hard pass. Instead, here I am, getting another round of shots for Jenna and her
friends who can, at best, be called acquaintances from med school. Squeezing
between a rock and a hard place; in the form of a man so firmly wedged onto his
stool that I question if he died a few days ago and a trucker with a sun-dried
tomato for a face who sighs and moves every so slightly, I wave at the
bartender and glance around.
You know that
no-man’s land where the country meets the city? You’re driving through street
lights and neighborhoods and BAM, nothing for about a mile before the fields
and barns start? That’s where Joe’s Bar sits, right smack in the middle of that
city-country deadzone. It’s a pretty average crappy bar, full of hard-drinking
regulars, the occasional hipsters who roll in looking for an experience, bar
flies who reek of cheap perfume and desperation, and a party of silly girls
hogging up the tiny dance floor. That’s me. I’m with the silly girls.
Waving at the
bartender again, I walk myself back through the conversation that brought me to
this point. Jenna approached me earlier today with the friendliest smile I’d
ever seen on her face. There’s the mistake…I fell for that crocodile
smile. She fed me some kind of sob story about Monica not having many
local friends who would throw her a hen party, boo-freakin-hoo, I fell
for that too. Yep, and now here I am, buying a round, for these silly
drunks I barely know. I should bail.
“Hurry up Wren!!
We’re sooooo thirsty!” Monica trills, dancing in a circle with her stupid
plastic champagne glass held high. She’s gaining the attention of the pool
players nearby. Pausing their game to look at her, the nearest one grins at his
friends and loops an arm around her waist as she dances by, pulling her in
tight. Oh great, this could get bad fast. I’m too far away to
hear what he’s saying, but her smile quickly fades and she starts squirming
free, so it’s not hard to guess at his intentions.
Jenna stomps over,
finger raised in a very official angry point to give him a piece of her mind,
but one of his buddies twirls her into his arms, laughing rudely as she squeals
indignantly. I glance at the bartender who gives a decidedly overworked sigh.
Picking up his phone from under the bar, he appears to check the time before
tossing the phone on the counter and continuing to pour drinks.
“Thanks bud, you’re
a big help,” I grumble as I shove away from the bar and make my way back
through the crowd. I can see angry tears brimming in Monica’s eyes as she swats
away the offending hands of the dipshit who won’t leave her alone. See
now, that’s not fair…and this is her hen party damnit… Pasting a
smile on my face I put a little bounce in my step, all the better to
get close to you losers. The two men who are bothering the girls see
me coming and glance at each other before smiling at me.
“Well good evening
Sugar,” the one bothering Monica lets go of her waist, tipping an invisible hat
at me, his voice oily as his eyes scan me top to tail. It doesn’t take him
long, I’m five foot nothing, and I walk right up close while he gets an
eye-full. Not wasting a beat, I get in his space, grab his nuts, and squeeze.
Hard. As his smile quickly turns to an open-mouthed bellow of pain, he curls in
on himself trying to get away from me. I help the momentum along, pushing his
head straight down on the edge of the pool table with a satisfying thunk and he
falls to the floor, dazed, holding his squished nuts. Just like you
taught me Gran.
“What the hell?!”
His buddy lets Jenna loose and looks back and forth from his fallen friend to
me several times in rapid succession. Now to get us out of this mess.
jackasses,” I fill my normally sweet Southern voice with as much disdain as I
can drum up. “Do you know who these girls’ Daddies are?” I point at Jenna,
Monica and Courtney, “CEO, Senator, Sheriff, and you think you can just paw
their baby girls?” Idiot number one is still on the floor, but his
buddies are backing away looking seriously uncomfortable.
I shake my head in
disgust. “Apologize and get back to your game, you hear?” They mumble ‘sorry’
and turn back to the pool table shame-faced, but the idiot on the floor isn’t
quite ready to give up.
“Whatever bitch,” he
groans, climbing painfully to his feet, eyes narrowed. Damnit.
Turning to the
girls, I decide to herd them to the door and find a bouncer to walk us to our
car. A hard poke in the shoulder turns me back to the angry idiot with sore
“We ain’t done yet
sweetie,” he leers, confidence returning, as he reaches out a finger to twirl a
strand of my blonde hair. I swat him away, angry. As I’m deciding whether to dust
off a few more tricks Gran taught me or just insist that the bartender get off
his ass and call the cops or something, Sore Nuts jerks his hand away like he
touched a hot stove.
“My apologies, we
thought you girls wanted to dance. We’re just going to play pool now and leave
you be.” His words tumble out in a rush, fear in his eyes as he stares over my
head. The hell?
“Hey Kane, didn’t
know you were working tonight,” Sore Nuts continues, trying to sound
calm. Kane? Ohmygod. I whirl around and almost bash my nose
into a very hard chest covered in a flannel work shirt. Taking a tiny step back
I look up and see a grim face I’d recognize anywhere. He doesn’t glance at me
as he gives Sore Nuts a hard look.
“Roy, Charlie,” he
rumbles, looking at each of them in turn. “Looks like your game is over.” He
sets his jaw, I can see the muscles working under his beard. It’s shorter than
I remember it, he used to keep it long, now it’s just barely long enough to
grab. That’s not a weird measurement at all, where did that come from,
wow. Darker red, almost brown, as if he’s not in the sun as much as he
used to be when he worked on the farm. His hair used to be such a
golden red, I always thought he looked like a lion. I wonder if he remembers
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Halo Roberts is a writer of steamy rom-coms, lover of coffee
and dark beer, and spoiler of two fat cats affectionately known as the Bitchy
Betas. She’s living happily ever after in Iowa with her very own hunky farm
boy, and a small herd of stubborn mules that look a lot like children.