Flirting with Forever: A Hot Romantic Comedy
Claire Kingsley
ABOUT THIS BOOK
He’ll break all her rules
Nora Lakes is sophisticated, successful, and happily single. Career problems aside, her life is fine the way it is, thank you very much. Sure, her best friends are all moving into a new season of life—full of husbands and babies and white picket fences. But that’s not what Nora wants.
Neither is the gruff, tattooed guy next door.
Tattoo artist Dex St. James has enough trouble on his hands without the distractingly beautiful woman next door. Being a single dad to a teenage girl is no joke. The last thing he needs is a flirtatious new neighbor who makes his blood run hot.
He’ll just avoid her. She’s not his type anyway.
But Nora and Dex can’t seem to stay out of each other’s way. Between a pesky nocturnal visitor, Nora’s blossoming friendship with Dex’s daughter, and their undeniable chemistry, that up-against-the-wall, brain-melting kiss was probably inevitable.
Nora has rules when it comes to men, and she has her reasons. Dex threatens to break every last one of them. She doesn’t want forever. He won’t settle for anything less. But when these two collide, the result is fire.
And maybe even forever.
Author’s note: opposites attract in this fun, swoony, single dad romcom. A smart, sassy woman meets a rough-around-the-edges tattoo artist with a heart of gold. Daddy/daughter moments, all the banter, neighborly shenanigans, a meddling family, badass lady friendships, and a hero who’s determined to fight the heat between them—until he falls first.
Flirting with Forever can be read as a stand-alone.
1
DEX
My new neighbor was trouble.
One glance out the window told me that. I narrowed my eyes at the woman. Long dark hair in a bouncy ponytail. Fitted tank top with a big martini glass on it. Leggings that hugged a set of wicked curves. She clearly knew how to use them. I was surprised the moving guys were getting anything done.
They grinned at her. Flirted with her. Even though she was way out of their league. And she seemed to enjoy every second of it. Ate up the attention.
Yep. Trouble.
My daughter Riley appeared on the stairs, dressed in a unicorn t-shirt and jeans. She’d done her brown hair in two French braids—she was into braiding lately. Without really looking at me, she came downstairs, said nothing, and went into the kitchen.
I let out a long breath. She was a different sort of trouble. Around the age of twelve, my once sweet baby girl had morphed into a hormonal enigma. Turning thirteen a few months ago hadn’t improved the situation. She shifted between silent and sullen or talkative and animated and there seemed to be no way to predict which Riley I was going to get. Recently, she’d burst into tears at the dinner table and when I’d asked her what was wrong, she’d sobbed, “I don’t know.”
Growing up was hard.
So was raising a teenage girl. Especially on my own.
She’d also started developing a body that was incredibly alarming. Thank goodness her cheeks were still slightly rounded, making it clear she was still a kid.
I wasn’t ready for all this.
“Hey, Ry?” I inched toward the kitchen, not sure if I should get too close. It was like living with a wild animal—totally unpredictable. “What’cha up to?”
“Tea.”
One word answers were pretty common lately, especially during a silent and sullen phase. Of course, she could turn on a dime and suddenly launch into a discussion of the most recent book she’d read or a rant about math homework.
I just tried to roll with it. No idea if that was the right thing to do. For a while, I’d felt like I was rocking this single dad thing. But lately, not so much.
Maybe I could get a few more words out of her. “Looks like someone is moving into the Olsons’ old house.”
She took out a tea bag and set it in a mug. “Yeah.”
I waited to see if she’d say more. Nothing.
Okay, neighborhood news wasn’t interesting enough to spark a conversation. I’d try a question. “Do you have any homework this weekend? I forgot to ask after school yesterday.”
“Yes.”
“Need any help with it?”
“No.”
“If you do, let me know.”
No reply.
Apparently it was time to roll with it and just give her space. “I have to go into work soon and I’ll probably be there late tonight. Are you good? Need anything?”
“I’m fine.”
Wow, two words. That was something.
“There’s leftovers for dinner, or you can make something.”
“Okay.”
She poured hot water over her tea bag, picked up her mug, and headed for the stairs.
“Love you,” I said, almost under my breath. I didn’t expect a reply.
She glanced over her shoulder. “Love you, too.”
I felt that deep in my chest. If that was the longest sentence I was going to get out of her, I’d certainly take it.
Sometimes I wondered if she did things like that to keep me from losing my mind. As if a part of her knew that I needed those little reminders that my baby girl was still in there.