Angel Baxter’s move from Georgia to Miami was intended to bring peace and calm, but for the past three months, she’s been reluctant mediator to her nana and their eighty-five year-old neighbor. Between ripped up azalea bushes, wrecked bird baths, and her grandmother prancing across the lawn like a deranged pixie, Angel’s nerves are frayed. She’s got more problems than a three-legged cat in a dog pound.
Unexpected help shows up in the sexiest form: Harry Garret, the neighbor’s gorgeous grandson. The gardener offers his hand in the negotiations, and the rest of his body on a date at a French restaurant. When Nana’s pranks go too far, will Angel lose out on more than peace and quiet, but also on a chance at love?
Page Count: 53
Word Count: 12512
The man grinned, and his white teeth set off blue eyes framed by dark, swooningly long eyelashes. œGrandpa? Sure. Come on in.
Grandpa? Please Lord, that this man was moving in to help out his kin the same as I’d done for Nana. œI don’t believe I caught your name.
œHarrison Junior, Harry to my friends.
I smiled and did a coy-meet-his-gaze-drop-mine-bat-my-eyelashes that would have made all the Southern belles back home raise their mint juleps and cheer. Sadly, that was where my femme-fatal moves ended, but maybe it was enough. œI do hope we can become friends. I’m Angel.
He gave me a smile that almost melted my shoes. œYou sure are.
Mmm. The Southern Belles would be eatin’ their hearts out if they saw this. I know I was.