Ultimate Romance E-Book Bundle

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ “If Christina Hovland writes it, I'm reading or listening to it!! Her characters always speak to me on some level and there's a great mix of humor and romance.”

— Laurie Anne

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ “This is my first novel by Christina Hovland and I absolutely loved it! I cannot wait to read more.”

— Jamie W.

He took a step closer, closing the space between them. Glanced at the surface of the water. Cleared his throat.

Then he wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and pressed his forehead to hers. “Let’s be clear about something.”

“Oh, by all means, let’s be clear.” She brushed her lips against the corner of his, nearly pushing him over an edge neither of them was ready for. Not yet.

“Going in, I thought you knew it was a publicity stunt,” he said, letting his mouth brush her earlobe as he spoke. “Thought you were a fan looking to meet a guy who makes money playing music onstage.”

“Now that I know it was real? For you? Things are different.”

“I told you. I've got a theory about cake and marriage,” he said.

I laughed, the sound uncomfortable to my ears. “I bet you're going to tell me all about it,” I said.

He shrugged. “You read articles. I have theories.”

“What's your cake theory, then, Brek?” I asked.

“Vanilla? Boring,” he said. “They'll be divorced within a year.”

Sheesh. His body remained only millimeters from mine. The scent of him mingled deliciously with the frosting and carbs.

“You still with me?” he asked.

“Chocolate?” I said the word a tad squeaky.

He chuckled. “The marriage will be filled with passion. Kitchen table. Washing machine. Everywhere.”

“Like doing it on the kitchen table?” I asked.

But his gaze held mine and my pulse skipped as he said, “All. The. Time.”

“Way I see it, you need to relax. I can help with that. I won’t be in town long, so no long-term expectations. No weirdness when it’s over.”

Wow. That sounded super rational.

“Really, I’m flattered. I…we’re so different. I’m…me. And you’re…you know…you.”

He grinned right up close to her, and, Holy Hannah, the wattage of his smile. “Feel that between us? It’s called chemistry.”

“I don’t like rock music. There. I said it. I think it’s loud and obnoxious,” she declared.

His eyebrows dropped together. “What music do you like, then?”

“Country, mostly. A little Justin Timberlake…”

Her voice trailed off as his eyes sparked with humor.

“Won’t listen to music while we do it, that’s fine.” The edges of his lips twitched.

“You have tattoos and I wear sweaters,” she continued.

“What’s wrong with tattoos?” he asked, moving his hand away.

“Nothing. No, it’s just we’re different. I haven’t even seen them all. What if you have one that I really don’t like, you know?”

“Take off your top.” He tugged at the hem of the pink-striped sweater she had paired with the skirt. He wasn’t making any sense.

“What?”

“You take off your top. I’ll take off mine. You can check out my tattoos, make sure you like ’em. I’ll check out your girls, make sure I like ’em. Tit for tat.”