(Keeney Builds, #2)

Publication date: February 10th 2025

Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

He made good on his promise to call. She refused to answer.

Facing an embarrassing divorce and fighting against her controlling mother, Fiona doesn’t have time for the broody ex-con, despite toe-curling kisses that still star in her dreams.

Surprise doesn’t begin to describe her reaction when he appears in her company’s boardroom months later. And ignores her.

Tomas tells himself he’s no longer interested in the tightly wound executive. But he can’t stop wondering if she’s all right. Can’t stop wanting to pick up the pieces. Can’t stop thinking about how perfect she felt in his arms.

Defying her mother, Fiona gives Tomas a chance, and they connect over their shared dream of building affordable housing. The community rallies around them, but not everyone is on board, and roadblocks are thrown up to challenge their plan and their relationship.

Can they build something solid despite threats to their foundation? Is permanent even possible when family differences turn ugly?

Perfectly Polished is a small-town, opposites-attract romance between a burly builder who grunts more than he speaks and a polished professional who has never known love.

Excerpt

Tomas’s big hands spanned her waist as he lifted her out of the truck. He leaned in to nuzzler her neck and Fiona pushed him back. “Uh-uh. You have a story to finish, my friend.”

Grinning, he set her down, closed the truck door, and followed her up the stairs to her apartment. Unlocking the door, she pointed at a chair. “Sit and talk. I’ll make tea.”

“God, you’re bossy.” Tomas complied and plucked an apple out of the bowl on the table. He rolled it between his hands while she moved about the kitchen. “Carlos likes to fix up cars, and he’s good at it.”

Thinking about the beautifully maintained car Louisa drove, she smiled at the irony of both their mothers driving BMWs, although her mother traded in her car every three years; the woman wouldn’t be caught dead in one as old as Louisa’s.

“He’d finished work on this cherry red Chevy Nova SS. The engine had this low throaty rumble, the interior was gorgeous. I’m getting a boner just thinking about it.” He laughed at Fiona’s glare. “I was pissed at him one night. I’d taken beer from the restaurant. Not the first time, either. This time, he chewed my ass out in front of a bunch of my friends. They laughed. I was humiliated. So I went home, found the keys to the Nova, and took off to Wenatchee for the weekend. On the way back, the cops pulled me over and arrested me for auto theft.” He spoke in a matter-of-fact tone.

Anger and frustration played across his face. She could only imagine his fear at the time.

“I didn’t know Carlos had sold the car and he didn’t know I’d taken it. The buyer came to get it, Carlos opened the garage, and it was gone. They reported it to the cops.”

“And your stepfather got you sent to jail?” She moved closer and placed a hand on his shoulder.

He shook his head. “Mom said he tried to talk the buyer down from pressing charges. But the buyer was seriously pissed. I was an angry punk then, which didn’t help matters. So, yeah, that’s how I wound up doing time.”

Fiona pressed into his side, running a hand down his arm to stroke the scarred knuckles of his big hands. Hands that built beautiful homes, designed delicate jewelry, and touched her like she was precious. “Was it…awful?”

He interlaced his fingers with hers. “Yeah. It was a minimum-security prison over in Forks. But I still got beat up a couple of times. There was a nurse who used to live in Keeney. His mom knew my mom, and was able to help me out by getting me a job cleaning up in the infirmary.

“The doc there figured out I had trouble reading. At first, he was a real jerk. Got pissed that I wouldn’t follow the instructions he’d written down. Thought I was lazy and trying to piss him off. I think he saw me staring at the paper, trying to figure things out, and he started asking questions about school and stuff. I had to tell him about my learning disorder. The prison had a rehabilitative program with a psychologist on staff. That doctor got me tested, and they figured out how to help me.”

He turned wary eyes her way. She didn’t know what he was expecting to see in hers, but he seemed to relax and continued speaking.

“I got pulled from the infirmary, which sucked because that nurse, Jaime, made the best cookies.” He grinned up at her. “They put me in school. I wasn’t thrilled, because school sucks when you can’t read. But it was time. If I was gonna have any kind of future, I had to put in the work. There were a dozen guys in the class. Like me, they had learning disorders, although we weren’t all the same. It was hard work, but it wasn’t like I had anything better to do.”

“And you learned to read,” she spoke softly, one hand intertwined with his, the other sifting through his hair, gently massaging his scalp.

“Yeah.” Now there was pride in his eyes. “I’m still slow. And I do better when I hear instructions instead of reading them. But I read something every day, to work at it, get better.”

She cocked her head to the side. “What do you read? The newspaper? Sports stuff?”

“Nope.” He shook his head. “I like romance novels.”

“Really!”

“Yep.” Releasing her hand, he shifted so she stood between his legs, his arms caging her in between his hard body and the edge of the table. “They’re kind of like…instruction manuals.”

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About the Author

She lives near Seattle with two and a half finicky felines and one long-suffering husband. She is a left-handed middle child who grew up in the Great White North and is a proud member of the Métis Nation of Canada.

Connect:

https://lynnehancockpearson.com/

https://www.facebook.com/lynne.hancockpearson/

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https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/29750133.Lynne_Hancock_Pearson

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Publication date: October 15th 2024
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Everyone in town loves the handsome handyman.
Everyone except his new neighbor.

Out of jail and desperate for work, Vincent scrapes by with odd jobs. He’s hired to help the gray-haired lady move in next door but stumbles when he finds nothing old or feeble about Hilary.

Rejected by her husband after her body rejected implants, the breast cancer survivor shuts out Vincent until a kitchen appliance crisis forces her to accept his help. Convinced that he could do better, she keeps the younger man at a distance, but he persists, building her confidence and coaxing her out of her colorless cocoon.

With the hot handyman by her side and in her bed, Hilary develops a community program bringing at-risk youth into the building trades. But not everyone wants to see the ex-con succeed. An old foe is determined to derail Vincent, and Hilary is caught in the chaos.

She’s ready to retreat. Ready to leave everything behind—including Vincent.
Can he convince her to stay?

#HotAndHandy is a small-town, reverse age-gap romance between two people starting over after being kicked to the curb by life and love.

Excerpt

Determined to be pleasant to a mousy old lady, Vincent approached the driveway where Iris and the new tenant stood watching the moving pod being delivered. “Good morning.”

The two gray-haired women turned his way…and there the similarity ended. Tongue-tied, he stood and stared as introductions were made. The too-slim woman named Hilary surprised him. Devoid of makeup and jewelry, the gray hair was the only thing that made her look older. Dark slashes of eyebrows above green eyes added color to her smooth, pale complexion. She stood tall with the erect posture of a dancer and a smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes. He took her outstretched hand, aware of his calluses against the cool smoothness of her slender fingers. Of its own accord, his hand squeezed hers, then he dropped it like a hot potato. Cheeks heating up with mortification, he caught her wide-eyed gaze and the slight flare of her nostrils before she turned away, stammering out a quiet hello. They watched the pod being unloaded while Iris nattered away.

When the truck left, she turned to them. “Well, you two have fun unloading this.” Iris disappeared into her house.

“Where do you—”

“I think we should—”

Vincent dipped his chin toward Hilary. “You go first.”

Cheeks slightly reddening, she tucked a curl behind her ear. “I think we should start with the big stuff.”

Two hours later, one-third of the meticulously packed storage pod had been emptied of the labeled, neatly stacked, organized-by-room boxes. As well as the larger pieces of furniture. She was stronger than she appeared. It wasn’t like he had gone all he-man, but she easily kept up with his pace and muscled around the bigger pieces requiring two people without complaint, without dropping anything, or without calling attention to his clumsiness.

Because, for the third time, Vincent dropped his end of the hutch. Hilary arched an eyebrow but didn’t say a thing. In fact, she’d barely spoken since Iris introduced them. What the hell was wrong with him? He was years younger, four inches taller, and at least fifty pounds heavier. Yet he was the one bobbling, jockeying, and fumbling like a middle school boy with a crush. So much for looking cool. This quiet woman in baggy clothes was his undoing. So far, he’d broken a lamp and dropped a suitcase on the stairs, which then popped open, spilling brightly colored panties and camisoles all over.

Pulling her ringing phone from her back pocket, Hilary looked at him in silent question. She moved to the back lawn at his nod to take the call. Thank Christ. Vincent wiped his sweaty hands down the front of his jeans. He thought about his least favorite prison guard to distract himself from catching her scent on the breeze sifting through her curls. The one who ate onions with every meal and apparently didn’t own a toothbrush. The memory worked. Until he looked at Hilary, wondering what color lingerie she wore under the shapeless jeans and sweatshirt.