He patted Jinx’s broad back. “Okay, Daddy.”
Hot tears spilled down her cheeks. She thought she’d been happy before. But this…
This was it.
Her world was complete.
She thought of the CVS bag and smiled. Maybe she’d hold off for a few weeks before she told them.
Give them a little time to bond as father and son…
Before adding another baby to the family.
Thank you for reading COME AWAY WITH ME! If you want a glimpse of Jinx’s first year in Calamity, when he was crushing on Skylar, and she pretended to want nothing to do with him, check out JUST THE WAY YOU ARE, the story of a princess gone wild—and the badass athlete who falls madly in love with her.
Up next is WHOLE LOTTA LOVE, where a quiet, introverted chef finally lives her life out loud with a hot, sexy quarterback.
Need more Calamity Falls, the western capital of whoop-ass, where the people are wild at heart?
KEEP ON LOVING YOU
WE BELONG TOGETHER
THE VERY THOUGHT OF YOU
JUST THE WAY YOU ARE
IT WAS ALWAYS YOU
CAN’T HELP FALING IN LOVE
COME AWAY WITH ME
WHOLE LOTTA LOVE
Look for WHOLE LOTTA LOVE in February 2021! Sign up for my newsletter to get a FREE copy of PLANES, TRAINS, AND HEAD OVER HEELS. And come hang out with me on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Goodreads, and Pinterest or in my private reader group.
Must Love Alligators
Erin Nicholas
A sexy, small town, nerd heroine, opposites attract romance.
Chase Dawson can't get Bailey Wilcox out of his head. In spite of the clumsiest almost-kiss of his life. A brainy, awkward conservationist is really not his type, but for some reason, this rich playboy can't wait to catch this one under the mistletoe.
Chase is back in Louisiana for this fun, sexy Christmas story from the bayou!
Copyright © 2019 by Erin Nicholas
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Chapter 1
“If you need any help studying for an anatomy exam, I’d be happy to help.”
Chase Dawson looked down at the gorgeous blonde in front of him. Fuck yeah. He’d love to go over her dips and curves. Carefully. With particular focus on how auditory stimulation—aka, dirty talk—affected her heart rate and skin temperature.
At least that should have been what he was thinking. Her beautiful anatomy was showcased in a tight tank top that left her stomach bare and short shorts that put her long, smooth legs on display. She was not only beautiful, she was clearly into the idea of a weekend fling with the Yankee visiting from D.C.
But no. His focus was on wondering why Bailey Wilcox was still wearing the dark green polo shirt that had Louisiana Department of Wildlife and Fisheries embroidered on the left side. Her khaki pants that were at least a size too big on her. She also still wore the brown work boots she wore to tromp around studying fish and frogs and whatever else she did all day with her job.
She hadn’t even wanted to change her shoes before going out?
She didn’t seem to really be out though. She was sitting at the end of the bar, alone—except for the two guys who’d tried to talk to her before she’d waved off their offers to buy her a drink—cradling a mug of beer in one hand while she bent over a small stack of papers. She had a plastic basket of something on her left side and a yellow highlighter in her right hand. She alternated taking a bite, then a drink, then running the highlighter over something on the page she was reading. Bite, drink, highlight. Over and over. She didn’t look up. She didn’t even make eye contact with the bartender. She seemed totally lost in her own little world.
She clearly didn’t want company.
So why the fuck was he watching her, rather than focusing on the friendly, curvy blonde in front of him? Why did he know that Bailey was now on page six of whatever that was but he didn’t even remember the blonde’s name? Had she told him her name?
He made himself smile down at her. “Darlin’”—Yeah, he’d learned quickly that dropping those g’s and adding a little drawl, even to his definitely-not-Louisiana accent, had an effect on women—“I’d love nothin’ more than to fully study every one of your dermatomes, up close and personal.”
The blonde wrinkled her nose. “What’s a dermatome?”
Okay, maybe not the sexiest of the terms he could have pulled out. Then again, most of the actual terms for body parts weren’t all that hot. Plus, what he did know had come from undergrad anatomy and biology. He started med school in about a month. Maybe he’d learn some better stuff there.
As the words homunculus and brachial and carotid tripped through his mind, he thought, then again, maybe not.
He ran a single finger up the girl’s arm to her shoulder and she gave a cute little shiver. “A dermatome is an area of skin that’s innervated by the cutaneous branches of…” He looked at her puzzled expression and shook his head. “Never mind. Maybe we should talk about something else.”
“Or maybe we should stop talking,” she suggested.
That was a good idea. He didn’t need to be thinking about all of this right now. Medical school was going to consume all of his time, thoughts, and energy soon enough. He glanced over at Mitch Landry, the guy who’d—for some reason—taken Chase under his wing these past several days.
Mitch lived and worked along the bayou, helping out at Boys of the Bayou swamp boat tour company. The Boys of the Bayou was an airboat tour company that took people up and down the bayou as well as out on hunting and fishing expeditions. It was owned and run by Mitch’s cousins and he helped out with everything from fixing roof leaks on the building to keeping the boats running as well as miscellaneous errands and projects. Mitch could build or fix anything.
As far as Chase could tell, Mitch was living a life that was full of beer, fishing, beautiful women, and a big, boisterous family. Chase wouldn’t lie—he kind of wanted to be Mitch.
Too bad Chase’s sister, Juliet, had made him want to be a doctor since he was about eight. He’d asked for a model brain for Christmas when he was ten and it had come with a full-color book. He’d been hooked and his path had been set.
Which was fortunate. Otherwise, he would have ended up in business with their father like their older brothers had and likely would have turned into a giant, selfish dickhead like they had, too.
Medicine was an acceptable alternative in their father’s eyes, so Chase had mostly been left alone about his decision. And, mostly, saved from becoming a dickhead. Though Juliet had needed to intervene a few times in that regard. Hence why he was in Autre, Louisiana during the hottest part of the freaking year after his fraternity brothers had gone back home after their week trip to New Orleans.
Chase and his buddies had stolen an airboat from Boys of the Bayou and, not knowing the first thing about driving an airboat—or the fact that airboats didn’t have brakes—had crashed the damned thing into one of the tour company’s docks.