Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 80555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Sadly, there’s no What to Expect manual for navigating life after forty. Right when I’ve begun piecing together my life as a widower and single dad to four older kids, my college-age daughter announces she’s pregnant. Oh, baby. And, of course, the other grandfather-to-be is the hot, single bar owner seemingly determined to flirt his way into my locked heart. Magnus is a temptation I don’t need.
When a fire leaves Magnus and his dogs without a home, I offer my carriage house as a solution. Temptation turns into a friendship I didn’t know I needed, and now, Magnus and I are cooking, watching silly old movies, planning holidays, and preparing for grandparenthood together. Things are perfect…until I kiss Magnus.
I’ve never had a friendship with secret benefits, but our chemistry is undeniable, and I cannot resist the chance to explore and reignite my passionate side. I didn’t think I could love again, but the lock on my heart suddenly seems quite loose.
Our families are entangled, Magnus isn’t meant for the shadows, and I’m not sure my kids are ready for me to date. Can I trust my heart to love again? Or will I find myself alone once more?
Over and Above is the fourth book in the Mount Hope series. A widowed paramedic who’s met his match in a cocky bar owner is about to discover that life truly does bring second chances when we least expect them. Over and Above features mature main characters, hurt comfort, grumpy sunshine, love after loss, second chance at HEA, found family, slow burn to spicy inferno, and big feels. Each Mount Hope book contains a standalone HEA, but reading in order is recommended for maximum reader enjoyment
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Chapter One
Three Months Ago
Eric
“You’re alone.”
“Excuse me?” Coming to The Heist had been a mistake. I had no idea what had possessed—
Okay, yes, I did. And perhaps I’d even subconsciously counted on Magnus, the owner of the bar and grill that occupied the old bank building, being on duty. But certainly not consciously, and Magnus’s pointed comment as I walked toward the massive polished bar made me want to turn right around.
“I meant you always come in with a crowd like your roommates or your after-work crew.” Magnus’s tone was as unflappable as ever, that charming, slightly flirty lilt that drove me up the exposed brick walls. He was perhaps a little younger than me, yet definitely over forty. His closely cropped, almost bald head made it hard to judge his age. And clearly, he spent far more time in the gym, what with the bulging, tatted-up muscular arms peeking out from his black T-shirt. “Nice to see you. Grab a seat.” Magnus gestured at the row of empty barstools. It was late, past the dinner rush on a weeknight, with only a smattering of patrons lingering at tables. “Your usual beer? And what can I get started for you food-wise?”
“Not beer. I want something stronger.” Magnus knowing my usual brand of pale ale irritated me to no end, which was exposed by my clipped tone. But I’d come for a drink, something with a kick and a burn that would make me forget—at least temporarily—this week from hell. “Scot— No, not that.”
I’d started to order a scotch on the rocks, but that had been Montgomery’s thing. He’d had a sophisticated taste with a collection of top-shelf whiskeys to match. I pursed my lips as I considered what I did want. Rum and Coke? Lord. Remove Montgomery’s influence, and my drinking tastes went right back to my teens.
“I’ve got a new dessert tequila in that’s amazing.” Magnus fetched an opaque blue bottle that looked more suitable for housing a genie than liquor. “Silky finish, notes of caramel and citrus.”
“Tequila makes me think of college.” It would have the burn I was after, but I could almost see Montgomery’s quiet look of distaste for the whole salt-and-lime ritual.
“This one won’t. It’s designed to be sipped slowly.” Magnus’s ever-present grin was even more seductive than said genie, not that I’d have the first clue what to wish for. Or rather, what to wish for that was remotely feasible. Apparently sensing he had me, Magnus fetched a tall, narrow flute with a long stem, a vessel befitting such a fancy liquor. “And first pour is on the house.”
“Why are you always so nice to me?” I asked as he slid the glass of clear liquid my way. It sparkled under the bar’s warm lighting, as captivating as the many shades of Magnus’s hazel eyes. And that right there was why Magnus irritated me. I noticed him in a way I hadn’t noticed anyone in years, certainly not since before Montgomery got sick. Which brought us back to my reason for drinking in the first place. The one-year anniversary of my husband’s passing had come and gone, and the whole week had been full of friends checking to see how I was coping. Badly. But of course I couldn’t say that.
“Besides a nice attitude being good for business?” Magnus gave a warm, rich chuckle. “Our kids are friends. I figure we should be too.”
“Our kids…” I had to think for a second as to which of my four the statement might apply to. “Oh right, you’re Diesel’s dad.”
Diesel was a nineteen- or twenty-year-old blue-haired punk type with almost as many tattoos as his father, and he had an on-again, off-again frenemy thing going with my oldest kid Maren, who was in college. Over the last year, they seemed to have evolved into more of an actual friendship, or at least, Maren tolerating Diesel’s antics more.
“I claim him.” Magnus’s smile took on a proud edge. “And it wasn’t your ambulance crew, but your firefighter friends and the helicopter folks did save him last year. I’m grateful to first responders of all stripes.”
“I’m glad he’s doing better.” Last summer, Diesel had suffered a nasty fall while hiking, ending up with an impalement injury, but thanks to quick intervention, he’d lived, and from what little I could glean from Maren, he’d made a full recovery.
“He is.” Magnus sounded relieved in a way my dad heart could relate to, along with more of that pride. “He’s gainfully employed now with his first promotion. He’s out at the big shipping warehouse. Maren keeps harping on him about taking classes, but school was never much his thing.”
“Guess it’s not for everyone.” I took a sip of my tequila at last, and my tongue tingled from the myriad of flavors—smoke, caramel, lime, sugar cookies—all wrapped in a bright ribbon of liquor. “Wow, this is amazing.”