Start Me Up
Lori had always planned to get out of tiny Tumble Creek, Colorado, but when her late dad left her his beloved auto body shop, she'd stayed. Now, according to her crazy best friend, Molly, what Lori needs is some excitement, in the form of hot, no-strings-attached sex…and lots of it.Quinn Jennings has buildings on the brain—not love and romance. A serious architect, he's delighted to discover that Lori is willing to skip dating protocols and head straight for the sheets. And aided by the steamy books on Lori's bedside table, he's busy indulging both of their wildest fantasies. But when life in Tumble Creek takes a dangerous turn for Lori, Quinn's protective instincts kick in.Suddenly he cares. More than either of them ever expected…
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“Dahl delivers a fun, feisty and relentlessly sexy adventure in her first contemporary…. Dahl smartly wraps up a winning tale full of endearing oddballs, light mystery and plenty of innuendo and passion.”
— Publishers Weekly on Talk Me Down
“Sassy and smokingly sexy, Talk Me Down is one delicious joyride of a book.”
—Connie Brockway, New York Times bestselling author
“Dahl brings a highly sensual, emotional and moving story to the pages with aplomb. Her clever plotting and engaging characters drive the story forward at a fast clip, and the depth of emotions will keep you enthralled.”
— Romantic Times BOOKreviews on A Rake’s Guide to Pleasure
“All I can say is that by the end you’ll really love Emma. And Somerhart, too. And you’ll be rooting for them to make it, to bring together their complicated, somewhat demented love affair and turn it into marriage.”
— New York Times bestselling author Eloisa James on A Rake’s Guide to Pleasure
“Dahl debuts with a sizzling love story peopled with characters you come to adore…she creates a natural conflict between her three-dimensional lovers and keeps the pages flying with a strong pace and powerful sensuality.”
—Kathe Robin, Romantic Times BOOKreviews, on To Tempt a Scotsman
This book is for Bill. I’m determined to make you laugh
out loud with this one, but I’ll love you even if you don’t.
I have to thank my family first. Thank you so much for putting up with a writer who’s been on multiple deadlines for over a year. I’m sorry about the messy house. It will get better next year. I’m almost sure of it. You make me proud.
Thank you to my wonderful editor, Tara Parsons. You have an appreciation for both Audis and backhoes, and that’s priceless. Thanks for getting me. And thanks to my agent, Amy. I couldn’t have done it without you.
And to all my wonderfully supportive writer friends—Jeri Smith-Ready, Farrah Rochon and Kristi Astor, to name a few—your support is invaluable. Jennifer Echols, you know how awesome you are, but I’ll tell you again. You rock.
Last, I want to thank my readers. Thank you for making all my work worthwhile. I’m honored.
“B ABY , THAT IS one fine ass.”
Lori Love ignored the purring voice and gave the mounting bolt on the transmission of the old Ford one last turn, laying all her weight against the wrench.
“Oh, yeah. Work it, darlin’.”
When the bolt felt tight enough, Lori wiggled the body part in question and tossed a grin over her shoulder toward the blonde behind her.
Her best friend, Molly, leered, eyebrows raised in suggestive appreciation. “Do fries go with that shake, girl?”
Lori stood and set the wrench on her tool chest. “I had no idea this look got you so hot.” She smiled up at Ben Lawson, standing behind Molly and very pointedly looking at the ceiling. “You should get some coveralls, Ben. Molly likes them.”
He rolled his eyes. “Are we done talking about Lori’s ass yet?”
“Oo, I don’t know,” Molly cooed. “It’s so cute and perky. Doesn’t it just make you think about—”
“You,” Ben interrupted, “are the strangest girlfriend I’ve ever had.”
Lori nodded in agreement. “She’s a strange girl, all right, but then you’ve been sheltered in this small town. Now, Moll, did you come here just to ogle my bottom, or is there something else I can do for you today? Lube job, maybe?”
They both descended into snorting laughter while Ben resumed staring at the ceiling in disgust. He was slightly more mature than the two of them put together. Good thing, considering he was the chief of police.
“I actually stopped by for a different reason,” Molly answered. “Quinn’s finally acknowledged that he can’t fix his backhoe. He needs help. I’m hoping you’ll stop by his place.”
Thinking of Molly’s older brother, Lori frowned. “Quinn’s an architect. Why in the world does he own a backhoe? And why would he think he can fix it himself?”
Molly waved a hand. “You know those geniuses. Think they can do anything. I told you he’s building a house up on the pass, right? His backhoe won’t start and he needs to finish the groundwork before winter. He’ll start the real building next spring.”
“Wait a minute. You mean he’s building it himself? I assumed you meant he was having a house built.”
“Nope. He says it helps him relax. Who the hell relaxes by building a whole house? Could he be more of an overachiever?” When Molly looked as though she was going to get riled up, Ben tugged a lock of her blond hair between his fingers.
“Some of us don’t have your artistic abilities, Moll.” He flashed her a private smile that relaxed her immediately.
Molly wrote erotic fiction for a living, which used to cause stress between the couple, but apparently Ben had come to terms with her job. Very pleasant terms. Lori managed to hide her envy by turning away to straighten up her tool chest. Not that she was interested in Ben. She just wanted some hot sex of her own. Looking down at her striped gray coveralls, she didn’t feel very hopeful about her prospects.
