Callie has her heart set on Mark, but he's really a crappy guy. And he's her boss.... He gives her a 30th birthday gift and then tells her that he is seeing a woman connected with the advertising agency. Her heart is broken! She says she needs to renew her driver's license and runs out.
At the DMV, she is in tears. The man behind her in line is not feeling her pain, although he does give her a handkerchief to dry her tears. He is a hottie.
At her birthday party, her friends tell her to find someone new. She finds out there is a new vet in town. Callie worked for the old vet when she was a teen. She makes a fake appointment for her dog and goes in. the waiting room is filled with single women. Guess who is the new vet? The hottie from the DMV, but Ian McFarland is not any friendlier. He and Callie keep running into each other. She likes him but does he like her?
At first, I had a hard time getting into this book. But once Callie set her sights on Ian it picked up for me. Her family was hilarious especially Noah, her grandfather. I wish there would have been a bit more romance between Ian and Callie.
From the author:
One happily-ever-after rocking chair…
And no sign of any forthcoming babies to rock in ol’ Georgebury, Vermont. For Callie Grey, turning thirty means coming to grips with the fact that her boss (and five-week fling) is way overdue in his marriage proposal. And way off track, because Mark has suddenly announced his engagement to the company’s new Miss Perfect. If that isn’t bad enough, her mom decides to throw her a 3-0 birthday bash in the family funeral home.
Bad goes to worse when she stirs up a relationship with the town’s most eligible — yet not so warm and fuzzy — veterinarian, Ian McFarland, in order to flag Mark’s attention. So Ian’s more comfortable with animals… So he’s formal, orderly and just a bit tense. The ever-friendly, fun-loving and spontaneous Callie decides it’s time for Ian to get a personality makeover. But, dang — if he doesn’t shock the heck out of her, she might actually fall for Vermont’s unlikeliest eligible bachelor…
As the man I loved approached my office, the image of a deer being hit by a truck came to mind. I was the deer, metaphorically speaking, and Mark Rousseau was the pickup truck of doom.
But here's the thing. The deer always freezes, as we all know, hence the expression like a deer caught in the headlights. The deer and I (Callie Grey, age thirty as of 9:34 this very morning) are well aware that the pickup truck is going to hit us. But we just stand there, waiting for the inevitable, whether it's a pickup truck or a man walking athletically toward me, perpetual smile in place, his brown hair carelessly curling, those gorgeous, dancing dark eyes. I waited, doe-eyed. It was all really too bad, because outside of Mark's influence, I was not at all a deer about to be run down. I was much more of an adorable, perky hedgehog or something.
"Hey," Mark grinned.
Bam! We have impact. The sunlight streamed through the windows of the old brick office building in which Mark and I worked, illuminating him so that he looked like something painted by Michelangelo. To make him even more appealing, he was wearing an old sweater vest his mom knitted for him years ago, shapeless and faded but something he just couldn't part with. A good son and a sex god.
It was as if there were two Callies…the smarter, more sensible self (I pictured her as Michelle Obama), and the dopey, in love part…Betty Boop. Would that Michelle could detach right about now and administer Betty Boop a brisk slap, followed by some vigorous shaking. Alas, Betty just sat there, enthralled, as the First Lady, not usually prone to violence, snorted in disgust.
"Hi," I said, feeling my face warm. You'd think that four years of seeing him almost daily would have built up some tolerance in me, but no. My chest prickled with longing and love, my throat turned Saharan, my feet and fingers tingled. My expression was probably somewhere around Pathetic Adoration, though I was trying hard for Intelligent Coworker.
Mark leaned against my desk, which meant his crotch was, oh, let's see, about a foot and a half from my face, since I was seated. Not that I noticed, of course. "Happy birthday," he said, making it sound like the most intimate, most suggestive phrase in the world.
Face: nuclear. Heart: racing. Callie: half inch from orgasm. "Thanks."
"I got you a present, of course," he murmured in that voice…God, that voice. Low and soft and velvety…the same voice he used in the bedroom, as I well knew Yes, Mark and I had been together. For five weeks. Five wonderful weeks. Almost five and a half, if you really analyzed it. Which I had.
From his back pocket, he withdrew a small, rectangular package. My heart flopped as my brain raced with contradictory thoughts. Jewelry? Betty squealed. That means something. That's romantic. So romantic! Oh! My! God! On the other hand, Michelle advised caution. Calm down, Callie. Let's just see how this plays out.
"Oh, Mark! Thank you! You didn't have to," I said, my voice breathy.
On the other side of the glass-bricked wall that separated our offices, Fleur Eames slammed a drawer. The wall only went up ten feet; the ceilings were twelve, perfect for eavesdropping, and I guessed she was trying to snap me out of my daze. Fleur, a copywriter here at the firm, knew about my crush. I guess everyone did.
Read more here.
ebook, 318 pages
Published August 1st 2010 by Harlequin Books
(first published July 1st 2010)