A wallflower gets seduction tips from a playboy athlete—until love changes the rules.
Socially awkward Joellen Bixby has a date every Saturday—with her cat, a pint of ice cream, and fantasies of the way-too-handsome Michael Maddox. She’d give anything to win over the unattainable CEO of her firm, but how can she when she blends in so well with her cubicle? The answer may be closer than she thinks.
Cameron McGregor is a cocky, tattooed Scottish rugby captain who just moved in next door. He’s not Jo’s type—at all—but the notorious playboy is offering to teach the wallflower everything he knows about inspiring desire. Though a lot of women have rumpled Cam’s kilt, Jo is special. Far from the ugly duckling she thinks she is, in Cam’s eyes she’s sharp, funny, and effortlessly sexy. Now, thanks to him, Jo is blooming with confidence and has the man of her dreams within reach.
Unfortunately for Cam, he’s just helped to push the woman of his dreams into the arms of another man—and now he’s in the fight of his life to keep this beauty from getting away.
When he opens up, my smile falters for a moment, but then snaps back into place like it’s magnetized. “Cool skirt, prancer. You look groovy in plaid. When’re you going to invest in some shirts? You do realize it’s winter, right?”
He heaves a huge sigh and looks at the ceiling, as if hoping for divine intervention. “It’s a kilt, lass.”
Of course I know that, but I enjoy giving him the business, because it obviously irks him to have his kilt disrespected by calling it a skirt. “What’s the difference?”
“What you wear underneath.”
When I cock a brow, he smiles. “Ask me what I’m wearin’ underneath.”
“I feel like this is a trick to get you to show me your junk.”
He looks insulted. “My ‘junk?’ Cameron McGregor doesn’t have ‘junk.’ He has Family Jewels, thank you very much.”
I bypass the ridiculous way he refers to himself in the third person. “Yeah, well your family jewels can stay safely under your skirt, buddy, because I’m in too good a mood to deal with a random penis sighting, thank you very much.”
He lifts the edge of his kilt a few inches and grins, waggling his eyebrows. “You sure? It’s a life-changin’ event, I promise you, lass.”
I snort. “No doubt, but I don’t have the cash to bankroll the long and expensive relationship with a psychotherapist that seeing you naked would necessitate.”
“Aha! You admit it would blow your mind!”
“I admit that I’ve seen people like you before, but I’ve had to pay an entry fee at the circus to do so.”
He purses his lips and looks me up and down. “Just make it easier on yourself, darlin’, and admit you’re wild for me and are dyin’ to bring a few dozen little McGregors into the world.”
“You’re massively in love with me.”
“I’m massively in dislike with you.”
“You’ve finally figured out I’m the real man of your dreams.”
“I’ve finally figured out how you got here. Someone left your cage door open.”