Sweet Home Louisiana, an all-new sexy, small town, second chance rom com from New York Times bestselling author Erin Nicholas, is available now!
Thanks to a drawn-up-while-drinking-moonshine partnership agreement, Madison Allain has to spend thirty days back on the bayou before she can sell her part of the family business.
And if the heat and humidity and freaking alligators of Louisiana aren’t enough to agitate the cool and in-control California girl, then Owen Landry, the equally hot guy who stole her heart twelve years ago, will sure do the trick.
Owen just has to remember three simple-ish rules: Do not fight with her. Do not fight *over* her. Do *not* kiss her. He can do this. He’s charming and friendly for a living after all. But this is Maddie. The only woman to ever shake up this laid-back bayou boy.
Besides, she’s not staying. No way. These people and this town make her crazy. She doesn’t want to be crazy. She definitely does *not* want to own a swamp boat tour company. She just wants to paint. In her quiet, beautiful, alligators-not-allowed, *air-conditioned* art studio.
As for that hot bayou boy? Well, he’s…amazing. But he belongs here in the South. And she definitely doesn’t. Even if her heart stays behind when she leaves.
Download your copy today!
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Excerpt
Owen felt
his mouth curve into a grin as he heard the familiar clap, clap, clap behind
him.
That was
one of his favorite sounds—high heels on the wooden dock of the Boys of the
Bayou swamp boat tour company.
He took
his time turning and once he did, he started at the shoes.
They were
black and showed off bright red toenails. The straps wrapped sexily around trim
ankles and led the eye right up to smooth, toned calves. The heels matched the
black polka dots on the white skirt that thankfully didn’t start until
mid-thigh, and showed off more tanned skin.
He
straightened from his kneeling position in one of the boats as his eyes kept
moving up past the skirt to the bright red belt that accentuated a narrow waist
and then to the silky black tank that molded to a pair of perfect breasts.
He was
fully anticipating her lips being bright red to go with that belt and her
toenail polish. God, he loved red lipstick. And high heels. In any color.
But
before he could get to those lips, she used them, to say, “Oh, dammit, it’s
you.”
Owen’s
gaze bypassed her mouth to fly to her eyes. Because he’d know that voice
anywhere.
Madison
Allain was home.
A day
early.
Not that
an extra day would have helped him prepare. He’d been thinking about her visit
for a week and was still as wound tight about it as he’d been when Sawyer, his
business partner and cousin, had told him that she was coming home. For a month.
Owen
stood just watching her, fighting back all of the first words that he was
tempted to say.
Like,
“Damn, you’re even more gorgeous than the last time I saw you.”
Or, “I
haven’t put anyone in the hospital lately.”
Or, “I’ve
missed you so fucking much.”
Just for
instance.
She blew
out a breath and now he did focus on her lips.
Yep, red.
Terrific. That wasn’t going to make ignoring them any easier.
“I was
hoping you were Sawyer,” she said, propping a hand on her hip.
Owen
tossed the wrench he held into the toolbox at his feet. “Nope. Sorry.” So she
wasn’t happy to see him. Big shocker. He hadn’t always been the perfect
Southern gentleman around Maddie, that was for sure.
He wiped
his hands on his jeans. Okay, he was supposed to be niceto her. That meant
treating her like she was one of the tourists who frequented this dock. Polite.
Friendly, but not I’ve-known-you-my-whole-life-and-kissed-you-a-whole-bunch
friendly. Just mildly hey-how’s-it-goin’ friendly. So that she didn’t sell off
her portion of the business that not only fed him and his other two partners,
but that was their pride and joy. And the only thing he was really good at.
Nice.
Polite. A little friendly—but not too much. He could do that.
Annoyed
that within thirty seconds of seeing her again he was already thinking about
kissing her, he kicked the toolbox, trying to slide it into the nook under the
bow of the boat. Of course, he kicked it too hard and it tipped, spilling tools
over the floor of the boat with loud clangs of metal against metal.
He shoved
a hand through his hair. That was typical. Everything was an overreaction when
it came to how he acted around Maddie. Even the little stuff. Certainly the big
stuff. Always had been.
“Sawyer’s
over at Ellie’s.” Owen pulled himself up out of the boat and onto the dock.
That took
him about two feet closer to her and he instantly became aware that he wasn’t
wearing a shirt. Very aware as Maddie’s eyes tracked over his shoulders, chest
and abs.
The heat
that arrowed through him was unwelcome. Though not unexpected. There had always
been this crazy chemistry between them. Key word: crazy.
Start the series of standalones with My Best Friend’s Mardi Gras Wedding
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About Erin Nicholas
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