From New York Times bestselling author Emily Goodwin comes a sexy standalone romance about a single dad who has sworn off women and the nanny who is faced with the biggest con she has ever pulled, not falling in love.
Side Hustle by Emily Goodwin is live!
When Scarlet Cooper takes a new job as a nanny, she assumes she’s going to work for the rich couple who hired her. But instead of pulling up to their million-dollar estate, she finds herself on the front porch of a humble farmhouse, looking into the eyes of dark and brooding single dad, Weston Dawson.
It’s bad enough that Weston doesn’t have a fortune to charm out of him, but he’s also a cop. After marrying his high school sweetheart only to have her up and leave weeks after their baby was born, Weston has sworn off women for life. All that matters now is taking care of his son, Jackson.
If anyone can break down the tough exterior of the former soldier, it’s Scarlet. But just when she’s close to getting exactly what she wants, she’s faced with a whole new challenge, which just might be the biggest con she’s ever pulled: pretending she doesn’t love him.
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Excerpt:
Compartmentalizing and not dealing with my feelings is my thing. My claim to fame. The only reason I’ve been able to get by this well for so long. My deck has always been stacked a few cards short, and in a dog-eat-dog world, I’ve never had the chance to stop and think about a better life.
And I mean really think.
Like muffins and bacon kind of thinking.
Opening the oven, I grab a piece of bacon before making a pot of coffee. The smell of French roast fills the air, and something inside me relaxes.
“Morning,” Wes says when he comes into the kitchen. He’s dressed in his uniform and he looks so good I don’t think I’d be surprised if someone started playing Hot in Here and he started taking off all his clothes in a private strip show just for me.
I’d grab the bacon, sit back, and watch.
“Morning,” I say back, going to the cabinet to get him a coffee cup. Assuming he’ll have his coffee the same way he did yesterday, I fill the cup and add just a little bit of cream and sugar. “Do you want eggs? I was just about to make some.”
Wes’s brows move together, and he looks around the kitchen as if I finger-painted the furniture, not made him breakfast.
“Sure.”
“Okay. Have a seat, it’ll only take a few minutes.” I already preheated the pan. With my back to him, I focus on the eggs, doing my best not to turn around and make small talk, because I know if I look into Weston’s dark eyes, there’s a good chance I’ll turn into a pile of goo on the floor.
And then who’s going to finish making breakfast?
“You didn’t have to do all this,” Weston says in a level tone. “We usually eat cereal or Pop Tarts in the morning.”
“I was up, and that’s the kind of thing I usually eat too. Something hot for breakfast sounded nice.”
I turn down the burner and risk a look back at Weston. He’s pulled his hair away from his face and is leaning back in the kitchen chair. He looks right at me and something burns behind his stormy eyes.
“Yeah, a hot breakfast is nice every now and then.”
He’s literally agreeing with words I just spoke, yet I’m feeling flush like he’s filling every syllable with a secret innuendo. And dammit—I want him to. And now there’s no denying that Weston Dawson has done the impossible: gotten under my skin and is weaseling his way into that dark cavity in my chest that some call a heart.
And I mean really think.
Like muffins and bacon kind of thinking.
Opening the oven, I grab a piece of bacon before making a pot of coffee. The smell of French roast fills the air, and something inside me relaxes.
“Morning,” Wes says when he comes into the kitchen. He’s dressed in his uniform and he looks so good I don’t think I’d be surprised if someone started playing Hot in Here and he started taking off all his clothes in a private strip show just for me.
I’d grab the bacon, sit back, and watch.
“Morning,” I say back, going to the cabinet to get him a coffee cup. Assuming he’ll have his coffee the same way he did yesterday, I fill the cup and add just a little bit of cream and sugar. “Do you want eggs? I was just about to make some.”
Wes’s brows move together, and he looks around the kitchen as if I finger-painted the furniture, not made him breakfast.
“Sure.”
“Okay. Have a seat, it’ll only take a few minutes.” I already preheated the pan. With my back to him, I focus on the eggs, doing my best not to turn around and make small talk, because I know if I look into Weston’s dark eyes, there’s a good chance I’ll turn into a pile of goo on the floor.
And then who’s going to finish making breakfast?
“You didn’t have to do all this,” Weston says in a level tone. “We usually eat cereal or Pop Tarts in the morning.”
“I was up, and that’s the kind of thing I usually eat too. Something hot for breakfast sounded nice.”
I turn down the burner and risk a look back at Weston. He’s pulled his hair away from his face and is leaning back in the kitchen chair. He looks right at me and something burns behind his stormy eyes.
“Yeah, a hot breakfast is nice every now and then.”
He’s literally agreeing with words I just spoke, yet I’m feeling flush like he’s filling every syllable with a secret innuendo. And dammit—I want him to. And now there’s no denying that Weston Dawson has done the impossible: gotten under my skin and is weaseling his way into that dark cavity in my chest that some call a heart.
About Emily:
Emily Goodwin is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of over a dozen of romantic titles. Emily writes the kind of books she likes to read, and is a sucker for a swoon-worthy bad boy and happily ever afters.
She lives in the midwest with her husband and two daughters. When she's not writing, you can find her riding her horses, hiking, reading, or drinking wine with friends.
Emily is represented by Julie Gwinn of the Seymour Agency.
Connect with Emily:
Facebook: www.facebook.com/emilygoodwinbooks
Instagram: www.instagram.com/authoremilygoodwin
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Bookbub: http://bit.ly/2EPLbu3
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Amazon: http://amzn.to/2pEHdf8
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