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Tangled Up in You by Rachel Gibson - Romance>Contemporary
Maddie is determined to uncover the untold story about the town's sordid pastâher past. As a child, Maddie lost everything, and now she's back at the scene of the scandalâa local establishment that's always belonged to the Hennessysâdetermined to uncover the truth, and nothing is going to stand in her way. Especially not a black-haired, blue-eyed Hennessy.
Everyone in Truly knows that the Hennessy men are irresistible, and the current owner, Mick, is no exception. His late father was a skirt-chasing heartbreaker who ended up causing disaster for two families. So far, Mick's managed to keep the ladies in line, but when he claps eyes on Maddie, with her luscious curves and tempting lips, he can't resist getting tangled up with her.
But Maddie is keeping secrets, not the least of which is her true reason for being in town. And when Mick discovers what's really going on, there is going to be a whole lot of trouble in Truly.
Reader Rating: 0.0 Not rated (0 Ratings)
Sensuality Rating: Not rated
The glowing white neon above Mort's Bar pulsed and vibrated and attracted the thirsty masses of Truly, Idaho, like a bug light. But Mort's was more than a beer magnet. More than just a place to drink cold Coors and get into a fight on Friday nights. Mort's had historical significanceâkind of like the Alamo. While other establishments came and went in the small town, Mort's had always stayed the same.
Until about a year ago when the new owner had spruced the place up with gallons of Lysol and paint and had instituted a strict no-panty-tossing policy. Before that, throwing undies like a ring-toss up onto the row of antlers above the bar had been encouraged as a sort of indoor sporting event. Now, if a woman felt the urge to toss, she got tossed out on her bare ass.
Ah, the good old days.
Maddie Jones stood on the sidewalk in front of Mort's and stared up at the sign, completely immune to the subliminal lure that the light sent out through the impending darkness. An indistinguishable hum of voices and music leached through the cracks in the old building sandwiched between Ace Hardware and the Panda Restaurant.
A couple in jeans and tank tops brushed past Maddie. The door opened and the sound of voices and the unmistakable twang of country music spilled out onto Main Street. The door closed and Maddie remained standing outside. She adjusted the purse strap on her shoulder, then pulled up the zipper on her bulky blue sweater. She hadn't lived in Truly for twenty-nine years, and she'd forgotten how cool it got at night. Even in July.
Her hand lifted toward the old door, then dropped to her side. A surprising rush of apprehension raised the hair on the back of her neck and tilted her stomach. She'd done this dozens of times. So why the apprehension? Why now? she asked herself, even though she knew the answer. Because it was personal this time, and once she opened that door, once she took the first step, there was no going back.
If her friends could see her, standing there as if her feet were set in the concrete, they'd be shocked. She'd interviewed serial killers and cold-blooded murderers, but chatting up nut jobs with anti-social personality disorders was a piece of cake compared to what waited for her inside Mort's. Beyond the No One Under 21 sign, her past waited for her, and as she'd learned recently, digging into other people's pasts was a hell of a lot easier than digging into her own.
"For God's sake," she muttered and reached for the door. She was a little disgusted with herself for being such a wimp and a weenie, and she squelched her apprehension under the heavy fist of her strong will. Nothing was going to happen that she did not want to happen. She was in control. As always.
The heavy thump of the jukebox and the smell of hops and tobacco assaulted her as she stepped inside. The door shut behind her and she paused to let her eyes adjust to the dim light. Mort's was just a bar. Like a thousand others she'd been in across the country. Nothing special, not even the array of antlers hanging above the long mahogany bar was anything out of the ordinary.
Maddie didn't like bars. Especially cowboy bars. The smoke, the music, the steady stream of beer. She didn't particularly care for cowboys either. As far as she was concerned, a pair of snug Wranglers on a tight cowboy butt couldn't quite make up for the boots, the buckles, the wads of chew. She liked her men in suits and Italian leather shoes. Not that she'd had a man, or even a date, in about four years.
She studied the crowd as she wove her way to the middle of the long oak bar and the only empty stool. Her gaze took in cowboy hats and trucker caps, a few crew cuts, and a mullet or two. She noticed...
Tangled Up in YouBy: Rachel Gibson