Sweet Talking Man
Who doesn't want a little sweet talk? Leif Lively is the hottest thing to happen to Magnolia Bend. But single mother Abigail Orgeron figures he's another heartbreaker and does her best to ignore the steamy glances he tosses her way. When he speaks, though, her resistance crumbles! His sweet words, humor and laid-back ways captivate buttoned-up Abigail.For once, losing control feels so good, and this no-strings arrangement is getting serious. What will she do when Leif solves the family mystery that brought him to town and decides to leave? Because she's learning that the biggest love means taking the biggest risk…
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Who doesnât want a little sweet talk?
Leif Lively is the hottest thing to happen to Magnolia Bend. But single mother Abigail Orgeron figures heâs another heartbreaker and does her best to ignore the steamy glances he tosses her way. When he speaks, though, her resistance crumbles! His sweet words, humor and laid-back ways captivate buttoned-up Abigail.
For once, losing control feels so good, and this no-strings arrangement is getting serious. What will she do when Leif solves the family mystery that brought him to town and decides to leave? Because sheâs learning that the biggest love means taking the biggest riskâ¦
âIâm surprised to see you here.â
Leifâs smile reached his eyes. âBut Iâm glad you came.â
If only.
Warmth dripped into Abigailâs belly before she could strike the naughtiness from her head. What was wrong with her? Daydreaming about a guy like Leif? He was too different, too earthy and holistic andâ
And standing there with the best smile in three parishes. He had a slight dimple in his left cheek and eyes the color of a fall sky. His jaw had a blockish quality while his lips were sensuous. How Abigail knew they were sensuous, she wasnât sure, but she was certain he could kiss her up one side of a wall and down the otherâ¦and make her beg for more.
Poor Abigail. The managing sister of the Beauchamp clan needs to chill. So I gave her the best thing an uptight, lonely woman needsâa laid-back, sexy Norse god. Leifâs not your typical hero. Heâs vegan, plays the ukulele and wears natural-fiber clothing. Heâs a hippieâ¦but a really fine one. And exactly what the buttoned-up PTA president needs to balance out her life.
Leif has come to Magnolia Bend with one purpose in mindâfind his real father and clear his motherâs name. He doesnât plan on breaking through the prickly Abigailâs defenses or on falling in love with the passionate creature beneath the sweater sets. But when did fate ever care about plans?
Toss in a rebellious twelve-year-old, an ex-husband looking for redemption and the droll Hilda Brunet, and you have a story worth taking the day off for. So grab a glass of sweet tea and a couple of hours to fall in love with Sweet Talking Man.
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Happy reading!
Liz Talley
A 2009 Golden Heart® Award finalist in Regency romance, LIZ TALLEY has since found a home writing sassy Southern stories. Her book Vegas Two-Step debuted in June 2010 and was quickly followed by four more books in her Oak Stand, Texas series. In her current books, sheâs visiting her home state of Louisiana. Liz lives in north Louisiana with her hero, two beautiful boys and a passel of animals. She enjoys laundry, paying bills and creating masterful dinners for her family. She also lies in her biography to make herself look like the perfect housewife. What she really likes is new shoes, lemon-drop martinis and fishing off the pier at her camp. You can visit her at liztalleybooks.com to learn more about the lies she tells herself and about her upcoming books.
To the girls who remember my first training bra, my first kiss and my first Wild Thing (âcause I didnât like beer): Dianna, Angela, Karen, Tina, Michelle and Heather. I still think I look good in velour and twist-a-beads.
The oldest friends are the best friends!
Contents
August 1978
SIMEON HARVEY TURNED away from the open window noting the ceiling fan did little to relieve the discomfort of the sultry Louisiana night. He supposed heâd have to buy a damned air conditioner. Days ago, heâd discovered the humidity had damaged some of the priceless artworks hanging in the gallery. And that could not be.
He glanced at his grandnephew, Bartholomew Theriot Harvey, who sat in a chair in desperate need of reupholstering, fanning himself and sipping a gin and tonic.
âI donât know why you donât install air-conditioning in this old dump. Itâs hotter than shit in here,â Bart said, wiping his brow with a handkerchief. He looked so much like his mother, Brenda, it was difficult to be angry at him...until he opened his mouth. âSo why have I been summoned? Usually I call you. Regardless, you pulled the strings and the puppet dances.â
Simeon stared hard at the boy. No, he wasnât a boy any longer, but rather a spoiled little popinjay of a man whoâd turned thirty years old yet still acted like a frat boy, drinking too much, spending too much, ignoring his old uncle until he needed more funds. Simeon itched to smack the boy, but he wouldnât. Simeon wasnât a man of violence.
