Reviews ...
"...an interesting farm setting,
unusual characters and great humor." 4 Stars.
-Romantic Times Book Reviews
Excerpt
...
“Tell me again why you insisted on bringing me home?”
Bridget unlocked her front door and flipped on the light.
“We need to talk.” Adam followed her into her apartment,
his cheek throbbing.
“Talk about what? How you got into a strip club brawl with
a dancer and were ejected by the bouncer?”
“Hey, I was not brawling with her. I lost my balance and
she kicked me.”
She rolled her eyes. “What were you even doing there? I
thought you finally grew up and stopped going to strip clubs.”
“I did! And how do you know I used to go?”
“My brothers have big mouths. So go home and put some ice
on your cheek.” She pointed at the door.
Adam was halfway out the door when he stopped. Very slick. “I
was dropping off a co-worker on my way home when I saw you arguing
with that bouncer. What the hell were you doing at a strip club?”
She paused from hanging up her coat. “The logical assumption
would be that I am dancing at Frisky’s.”
He couldn’t help himself and burst out laughing.
“Why is that so hard to believe? You don’t think
I’m sexy enough?” She glared at him. Uh-oh.
“Come on, Bridge. You, a stripper? You always wear the
baggiest clothes possible and blush beet-red if anybody even glances
at your—” he gestured abruptly at her breasts, too
embarrassed to even say the word.
“Maybe I’ve changed since I moved to the city. Maybe
certain things don’t embarrass me anymore.” She moved
to her futon and picked up a shiny lime-green bra.
“Whoa, are you serious?” He ran his fingers through
his hair. “You’re dancing at Frisky’s?”
Bridget held the green bra to her chest and shimmied a bit. “What
do you think, Adam?”
“Oh, my God.” He looked, really looked around her
apartment for the first time. A chrome clothes rack held a black
corset thingie, a day-glo pink bra and panties, and a white vinyl
tube-top. But the kicker was a pair of six-inch clear plastic
high heels with straps. Nobody wore those except strippers. “Did
you dance tonight?”
She tossed down the bra. “Did you miss my performance,
Adam?”
He plopped onto her futon. “Oh, Bridge. What will your
family say?”
She just laughed. Here he was picturing her parents’ shock
and horror, and her brothers’ anger and disappointment,
and she laughed? She had changed since she moved to Chicago, and
not for the better. “It’s not funny!”
“Adam, you worry too much.” She plucked the pink
bra off the hanger and rubbed her cheek over the shiny fabric.
She’d look great in the pink with her fair skin…
“No!” He’d been imagining her in the pink bra
and nothing else and hadn’t meant to say that aloud.
“No, what?” She gave him a puzzled look.
He jumped up from the futon and walked over to her. “No,
you can’t do that. Since your family isn’t here, I’m
going to put a stop to this.”
“You are? How?” Then she smiled and trailed the pink
bra over his chest. His heart beat faster. “Tell you what.
You’re a gambler, big guy. You gamble on corn, soybeans,
cattle. Let’s make a bet.”
“On what?” That smile was making him nervous.
“On you.” She drew out the last word, teasing him.
“Since you consider yourself my friend, you can give me
an unbiased opinion on whether I’m good enough to make it.
If you say no, I won’t continue my budding career as an
exotic dancer.”
“What? You want to do a demo for me?” His throat
grew tight.
“Do we have a bet or not?” Her blue eyes bored into
him. She wasn’t the shy little farm girl who’d blushed
when they first met. And now she wanted to take her clothes off
in public for strange men?
He couldn’t let that happen. “It’s a bet.”
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