Perfect Match

  

These characters stayed in my head long before they reached the page.

I'm happy to share the story with you. I hope you enjoy Cali and Trace's journey.







Perfect Match: Available at:

Amazon:  http://tinyurl.com/y9rwfwcg
 

Blurb

Nursing wounds over a broken engagement, twenty-seven-year-old Cali Weston, has no inclinations of becoming involved again and submerges herself into Weston Art Gallery, intent in making it the best in Atlanta.

Summoned to Crossroads, Tennessee to settle her father's affairs, she meets Trace Robbins, widowed at twenty-six. 

It's been a year since the death of his wife, Jena. Trace faces raising his son, Dylan, alone. He blames himself for both the accident and Jena's death. Now her memory haunts him. Neither love or marriage is an option.

Sparks fly when Cali realizes Trace's interests are centered not on her, but on two-hundred acres of prime farm land, she'd acquired from her father. Cali finds her concern leans toward the heart. She struggles with meeting obligations of the art studio and holding onto last ties of her father's memory.

Neither deny a strong attraction to the other.

Trace can't let go of Jena's memory, and Cali won't play second fiddle to a ghost.

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Perfect Match
Excerpt
Cali moved to the saddle and ran a finger over her initials carved into the supple leather.
"He kept it," she whispered. "Through all the years. My father kept the saddle."
Cali swallowed back the tears and refused to cry for things that might have been, but when Trace reached for her, her reserve failed.
In an instant Trace closed the gap between them. For a moment he said nothing, and when she didn't resist he draped an arm around her shoulder and drew her close.
Tears she'd bottled inside, slid down her cheeks at his display of gentleness.
"It's all right. I'm here," he murmured. "You've had a lot to deal with. Coming home brings it all back. And the interesting last couple of days doesn't help."
She hesitated and wanted to pull away, but it felt so good to be held. To have someone care. In the warmth of his embrace she found encouragement and hope. Hope, that men weren't all bad or deceitful.
Gentle fingertips lifted her chin.
I'm not ready for this. "Trace, don't." She voiced one 
thing, but, never wanted him to let go.
"Trace, don't." She voiced one thing, but, never wanted him to let go.
Warm breath wafted like a caress across her eyelids, the tip of her nose, then brushed across her damp cheeks. Their eyes held until his trailed slow and deliberate across her face. His grip was strong as he slipped a hand at the nape of her neck and pulled her to him.
No longer in control of a rational thought, waves of heat curled in the pit of her stomach as their lips met. The kiss was painfully tender. Cali wrapped her arms around his waist and allowed him to draw her closer.
When the kiss deepened, he crushed her to him so
tightly she felt her bones ache. Heated breath came in ragged bursts as he nuzzled her neck, filled with hunger.
She knew she should stop him, but nothing
mattered except the moment. Finally, with difficulty she withdrew and wrapped her arms tight about her waist.
"Why did you do that? Why did I let you do that? I have no idea what I was thinking."
Trace's hand rested on the small of her back. "I've wanted to kiss you since we met," his voice calm, his gaze teasing. "You're an irresistible woman, Cali Weston."
Unable to deny she'd wanted him to kiss her as much as he professed, she stood firm but stepped out of arms reach.
"That was much more than a friendly kiss, Trace."
He lifted a brow and moved closer, his blue eyes bold with desire. "It wasn't meant to be friendly."
"God, but you're arrogant."
"You needed kissing."
She lifted her shoulders, frowned and found her feet wouldn't move. "And you decided you were the man to do it? Don't be so egotistical."
Trace reached out and undid the ribbon in her hair, let it flutter to the floor, then gathered her hair around her face. He pulled her to him with a fierceness matched by her own.
His breath came hot and quick on her cheek, her ears, and her throat. Hesitant to give in, she fought against the mounting desire Trace kindled.
"Trace, please. Don't do this. You caught me in a
weakened moment. And...and you have no idea of my
needs."
With his fingers tangled in her hair's silky mass, Trace leaned forward, his face a whisper away, to kiss her once more. "Then it's time I found out."

Copyright ©2019 by Carol DeVaney
All rights reserved. These novels, stories and any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author or publisher except for the use of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews.