Venus in Blue Jeans

By Meg Benjamin

When did my life start resembling a Hallmark movie?

I suppose it all started when my charming fiancé turned out to be anything but, and I decided I wanted to push the reset button on my life. So, I packed up my business and moved to a small town in the Texas Hill Country, complete with the cast of small-town characters you’d expect and the ridiculously sexy new veterinarian.

Being the new kids in town, Cal and I kept finding ourselves thrown togetherand even though men were the absolute last thing on my mind... one thing led to another.

Now someone’s threatening my business, but I’m not the same woman I was when I arrived. And I’m ready to fight for what’s mine.

Each book in the Konigsburg series is STANDALONE:
* Venus in Blue Jeans
* Wedding Bell Blues
* Be My Baby
* Long Time Gone
* Brand New Me
* Don’t Forget Me
* Fearless Love
* Hungry Heart

• Language: English
• Publisher: Macmillan Publishers
• Release date: Aug 21, 2017
• ISBN: 9781640633193

Meg Benjamin

Meg Benjamin is an award-winning author of romance. Along with her Luscious Delights series for Wild Rose Press, she’s also the author of the Konigsburg, Salt Box and Brewing Love series. Along with these contemporary romances, Meg is also the author of the paranormal Ramos Family trilogy and the Folk series. Meg’s books have won numerous awards, including an EPIC Award, a Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award, the Holt Medallion from Virginia Romance Writers, the Beanpot Award from the New England Romance Writers, and the Award of Excellence from Colorado Romance Writers. Meg’s Web site is http://www.MegBenjamin.com. You can follow her on Facebook (http://www.facebook.com/meg.benjamin1), Pinterest (http://pinterest.com/megbenjamin/), Twitter (http://twitter.com/megbenj1) and Instagram (meg_benjamin). Meg loves to hear from readers—contact her at [e-mail].

Book preview

Table of Contents

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

About the Author

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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Copyright © 2009 by Meg Benjamin. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

Entangled Publishing, LLC

2614 South Timberline Road

Suite 105, PMB 159

Fort Collins, CO 80525

[e-mail]

Select Contemporary is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC.

Edited by Lindsey Faber

Cover design by Fiona Jayde

Cover art from iStock

ISBN 978-1-64063-319-3

Manufactured in the United States of America

First Edition January 2009

Rerelease August 2017

To all my guys—Bill, Josh, and Ben.

Chapter One

Cal Toleffson saw the love of his life for the first time at 5:47 p.m. in the Dew Drop Inn, downtown Konigsburg, Texas.

He wasn’t exactly dressed for the event.

He’d spent the forty-five minutes preceding Happy Hour tending to a sick goat. Tending to was the polite way of describing it. The goat was large, sturdy and attractive from a goat’s point of view. From a human’s point of view, even a vet like Cal, it smelled like, well, a goat. And so did he, after about ten minutes in the goat’s company.

He’d cleaned up, sort of. Washed his hands and face, dropped the jeans and T-shirt he’d been wearing into his clothes hamper (his housekeeper would probably be asking for a raise by the end of the month), and put on his last clean denim shirt.

His desire for a Dos Equis outweighed his need for a shower. And the Konigsburg male population wasn’t too fastidious anyway. He doubted somebody like Terrell Biedermeier would even notice a little eau d’goat, given Terrell’s personal ripeness.

Terrell, a lump on a barstool, didn’t notice. But Steve Kleinschmidt, also known as Wonder Dentist for reasons Cal wasn’t clear on, moved a few inches down the bar after Cal took his seat on the stool beside him.

Trying to make a point there, Idaho?

Cal grinned. Nah, just thirsty. And it’s Iowa.

Idaho, Iowa, same thing. Wonder had spent most of his life in Texas, and he wasn’t interested in moving. You do realize what you smell like, right, Toleffson?

Might be goat, might be sweat. What’s your opinion, Wonder? Cal rubbed a hand through his beard, scratching. Dried beard sweat was a bitch.

Wonder snorted. If I had to guess, I’d say bullshit. But then I’m a dentist, not a vet.

Hank Ingstrom, the bartender and owner of the Dew Drop, pushed a bottle of Spaten in Wonder’s general direction and made a half-hearted sweep at the bar with a grubby rag.

Dos Equis, Ingstrom. Cal leaned against the bar, ignoring the slightly sticky surface under his elbow, and scraped his boot sole against the brass rail.

Ingstrom frowned as he headed back down the bar, tucking his rag in his back pocket. That’d better not be goat crap.

See? Cal grinned at Wonder, nodding in Ingstrom’s direction. Ingstrom knows his animals.

"Not surprising. Ingstrom is an animal." Wonder sucked down a quick swallow of beer, wiping the foam from his upper lip with his index finger.

Cal glanced down the length of the bar. The usual series of gray, lumpish shapes—Konigsburg males, all knocking back brews. He sighed. He’d never figured out why the customers who lined up along the Dew Drop bar were always male, while those at the tables were always female. Made fraternizing that much more difficult.

Not that he’d had much time to fraternize lately, to say nothing of the necessary money. But fraternizing was a definite future goal, what with his currently bleak social life. He needed to start making some moves if he didn’t want to end up just another barstool lump.

On the other hand, given the general gloom in the Dew Drop, it might be difficult to figure out the gender of somebody at the other end of the room, let alone make any moves.

Beside him, Wonder sat back on his stool. So you spent the afternoon with your hand up a goat’s ass?

Cal grimaced. Pretty much.

Ah, the glamorous life of a Hill Country vet. Wonder took another pull from his Spaten. They have goats in Idaho?

Probably. Being from Iowa, I wouldn’t know. Cal rubbed a hand across the back of his itching neck, then scratched his chin again. He really should have taken a shower.

Wonder leaned his elbows on the bar, squinting into the dim depths of the Dew Drop. No tourists in here today, just locals. With my luck any tourists would all be over fifty anyway.

You mean tourists actually come in here? Cal glanced around the cluster of tables in the middle of the floor. I’ve never seen one in the Dew Drop.

Boy, there is no place in Konigsburg tourists don’t come into. You’ll understand that once you’ve lived here a while. Wonder sighed, letting his chin sink toward the bar. The trick is to find some that aren’t on Social Security yet.

Cal figured Wonder was around thirty-five, give or take. His reddish brown hair was thinning on top, and he wore hornrims. His bright green knit shirt bunched around a slight swell of love handles. Jessica Alba was not in his future.

Ingstrom reappeared with Cal’s Dos Equis. You need a haircut, he grumbled. Look like a goddamn hippie.

Cal turned and squinted into the mirror behind the bar. His hair was over his collar again—his mother would have told him to get a haircut too. But then, his mother was back home in Lander, Iowa. Maybe some of the local barbers had poverty-stricken vet rates. I’m going for rugged. Isn’t that part of the whole cowboy mystique?

Maybe. Wonder grinned. ’Course with you there’s a thin line between rugged and grizzly. You might want to do a little pruning.

Getting back to women… Cal turned to survey the room again, checking out prospects. See anybody interesting?

Wonder shook his head. Nobody but locals. Most of the women in here own gift shops. He shuddered, his slightly concave shoulders pulling at his knit shirt. Heed my warning, boy. Never date a woman who makes a living selling angel figurines.

Nice to know. Cal went back to checking out the women at the tables, what he could see of them.

The Dew Drop had windows in the front, but the light only reached a couple of feet inside, given that Ingstrom didn’t believe in wasting time on washing windows. The light fixtures had brass shades that effectively cut off at least two-thirds of their candlepower.

Cal squinted. Some of the tables were definitely occupied by women. Or bikers. Sometimes it was hard to tell. Definitely people with long hair.

Who’s the brunette in the corner booth? He turned back to Wonder.

Wonder peered into the darkness. Morgan Barrett. Her father owns Cedar Creek winery. He picked up his Spaten. Nice lady. You want me to introduce you?

Cal squinted through the gloom again. Appealing face. Bright smile. Good figure, what he could see of it in the darkness. He considered Wonder’s offer, then sighed. No zing. Zing. Jesus, Toleffson, you are an idiot. No, thanks, he mumbled.

Wonder frowned. Jesus, Toleffson, you are an idiot. That’s the third time you’ve turned down one of my patented introductions. Are you gay, by any chance? Because I could change my focus here if it would help. I understand Phil Malloy just broke up with Dilly Burke.

Nope. Cal took a long pull on his Dos Equis, letting some cool brew slide down his throat. Thanks for the thought. Why this push to get me matched up with somebody anyway?

Wonder shrugged. Enlightened self-interest. I figure if you’re off the market, the town’s female population will once again lower its expectations.

The entire female population? Cal grinned, rubbing his finger through the condensation on his bottle. Careful, Wonder, you’ll give me some inflated expectations of my own.

Wonder pinched the bridge of his nose. One question, Idaho. How many cookies have arrived at Rankin’s Animal Hospital over the past couple of weeks?

Cookies? Cal paused to think. Well, somebody brought in some peanut butter cookies for the staff on Tuesday. And some brownies a couple of days later. He shrugged. People get all sentimental about their pets. They bring in thank-you gifts. It happens at all animal hospitals.

Wonder rolled his bottle between his fingers. So patients give you cookies all the time?

Well, not just me. They bring them to everybody at the clinic. We put them out on the counter. Come to think of it, one of the clinic assistants had made a couple of cracks lately about the number of cookies they’d had to get rid of.

Wonder shook his head. Lordy, Idaho, I don’t know whether that statement is an example of innocence or advanced idiocy.

Cal sighed, turning back to look around the room again, and stopped cold. Standing at the other end of the bar was Botticelli’s Venus.

…

Docia Kent had had one mother of a day. First the mailman hadn’t brought the shipment that had supposedly been overnighted from Houston. Then it turned out the new CD rack didn’t fit into the space at the back of the bookstore. And as if that wasn’t enough, Margaret Hastings kept making those boneheaded complaints about the freakin’ wine and cheese party for the Liddy Brenner Festival.

Docia swore that if Margaret, owner of a store specializing in angel replicas, gave her grief about one more thing, she’d start selling angel repellant.

Beside her, her friend and assistant Janie Dupree was midway through her usual argument with Ingstrom.

No Texas wine, Ingstrom?

By the bottle. You want a glass, it’s house wine.

Janie turned quickly in Docia’s direction. Want to share a bottle? Morgan’s winery just released a new one.

Docia shook her head. Margarita, Ingstrom. Silver tequila, on the rocks.

Janie sighed. All right, a glass of the house chardonnay. But one day you’ll understand why people go to Brenner’s.

Brenner’s was the wine bar and restaurant where Janie and Docia usually went once they’d closed the shop. But Brenner’s didn’t serve margaritas, and after the day she’d just had, Docia really wanted a margarita. Now.

She massaged the back of her neck as if that could stave off the headache stirring at the base of her skull. The Dew Drop smelled of dust and stale beer, with just a smidgen of bodily fluids. It did nothing for her general attitude.

Not that Docia was ready for the Ritz just then. Maybe she should have changed her clothes before coming to the Dew Drop, grim though the place was. Maybe she should have taken a bubble bath. Maybe she should have gone to Brenner’s with Janie and tried flirting with the yuppies from Houston.

On the other hand, she hadn’t had all that much success finding anybody interesting at Brenner’s or anywhere else in town over the past few months. She ran through a quick list of her last few dates—the accountant from Arlington, the real estate broker from Fredericksburg, the orthodontist from Marble Falls. Losers, one and all. Basically, her luck with men sucked.

And, of course, her biggest mistake of all, Donnie Branscombe. How could she forget Donnie? Not that she hadn’t tried.

Docia took a deep breath and blew it out. At times, she thought her judgment with men was about as bad as her judgment with CD racks.

She glanced into the mirror behind the bar. The most gorgeous man in Texas was staring at her from the other end of the room.

…

Venus. Her red hair curled around her shoulders, a few tendrils wisping across her cheeks. She had to be at least six feet tall, given the way she towered over the woman next to her. Six gorgeous feet of woman. Her denim shirt was knotted beneath her breasts, showing a nice stretch of alabaster skin above the waistband of her jeans.

No visible tattoos. Always good to know.

Cal found himself looking at the knot again, and then higher. Oh sweet Jesus! Perfect. Pecos cantaloupe size. He rubbed his hands against his thighs, trying to distract himself from the series of lust-crazed visions flooding his brain.

Eyes. What color were her eyes? Hard to say in the dim light. He’d have to get closer. Yeah. Closer was definitely called for.

What’s up now? Wonder peered beyond his shoulder. Having revelations, are we?

You might say that. Cal tamped down the last of those glorious pictures his mind had conjured up. Who is she?

Who? Wonder leaned further forward, squinting toward the other end of the bar, then sat back and shook his head. Oh, bad idea, Idaho. Definitely not a good woman to start your Konigsburg career with.

Why not?

Out of your class, bucko, definitely out of your class. Wonder sipped his Spaten again. Much too tough for a beginner.

And again I ask, why? Who is she? Cal refused to look back at the man trying to dampen his enthusiasm. Not when the other end of the bar had so much to see.

Docia Kent. Wonder nodded in Venus’s direction. Owner and sole proprietor of Kent’s Hill Country Books.

Stuck-up bitch, Terrell mumbled.

Cal contemplated accidentally upturning Biedermeier’s barstool and dumping him beside the bar, but miscellaneous bits of Biedermeier would only further mess up Ingstrom’s floor.

He frowned. So why is she out of my class? How do you even know my class anyway, Wonder?

Wonder hunched over the bar, staring into the mirror. Docia Kent has lived in Konigsburg for two years now. Never dated a local, far as I know. And I know far, believe me. Many have tried. None have been chosen. She’s definitely not interested in Konigsburg males. She’s not what you’d call a local herself.

And this is bad? Cal shrugged. I’m not a local either—not yet, anyway.

There’s some question about how much Ms. Kent wants to be a local, Idaho, given that she hasn’t shown much interest in Konigsburg’s finest to date. Wonder tipped up the last of his Spaten, raising an eyebrow at Cal.

Cal squinted back down the bar. Always a first time.

Indeed there is. Wonder nodded, rubbing his hands together gleefully. Oh this is going to brighten up the summer no end. I’m opening the book on this one today. What do you say, Terrell? I’ll give you five to one Ms. Kent won’t give Idaho the time of day.

Stuck-up bitch won’t give nobody the time of day, Biedermeier mumbled.

…

At the other end of the bar, Docia tried for a better look at the most gorgeous man in Texas without attracting too much attention. She leaned forward slightly, tipping back her head, and checked the mirror again.

Lordy, he was big! At least six-three, probably more, given the way he towered over the people around him. Brown hair just long enough to curl over his collar. Short beard and moustache. Shoulders that looked too big for his denim shirt. She’d bet anything he had on boots too.

Boots. Over a year since she’d had boots underneath her bed.

Docia took a deep breath, balling her hands into fists. Get a grip. Getting horny over a perfect stranger was pathetic. Besides, they never turned out to be as good as they looked, did they? Particularly not if they were interested in her. Probably just some jerk from Dallas with a cowboy complex.

Janie, she murmured, who’s the guy at the end of the bar?

Beside her, Janie’s body shifted. No, don’t look! Docia hissed. Use the mirror.

Aw, hell, now she’d been magically transported to high school.

Janie peered beyond her into the mirror. You mean Doc Kleinschmidt?

No— Docia nodded toward Gorgeous, —the one next to him. Kris Kristofferson, circa 1976.

Janie grinned. "You mean when he was in A Star is Born? Personally, I like the way he looked in Songwriter better. You know, when he had that little white streak in his beard…"

Docia gritted her teeth. Janie, just tell me who the guy is, okay?

Janie leaned forward again. In the mirror, Docia could see Gorgeous talking to Kleinschmidt. For a moment she could swear he looked her way. Quickly, she picked up her margarita, dropping her gaze. Well?

Holy crap, he’s a big one, isn’t he? Janie straightened again and sipped her wine. I’ve never seen him before.

So he’s a tourist? A jerk from Dallas just as she’d thought. Another Mr. Wrong. Not worth the trouble. Docia fought down a faint tang of disappointment. Better this way.

No, I think I know who he is. Janie’s brow furrowed in thought. He’s probably Doc Rankin’s new partner. The new vet.

A vet. Well, hauling large animals around would certainly explain the body.

You’re interested, aren’t you? Janie peeked back down the bar. Wanna go down there and introduce ourselves?

In front of Kleinschmidt? Docia shook her head. Don’t think so.

What’s wrong with Wonder Dentist?

Docia grimaced. He reminds me of my macroeconomics professor. The one who wrote ‘pathetic’ across the top of my term paper.

Just another Konigsburger who found her not quite up to the town’s standards.

She chanced another glance at the end of the bar. Even if he was a local, Dr. Gorgeous could still be a jerk.

Would she know what to do with him if he wasn’t? Did she even remember? And, of course, there was no guarantee he’d be interested in her.

So what do you want to do? Janie’s brow furrowed. I could try luring Wonder away, but then I’d feel funny the next time I needed my teeth cleaned.

Don’t do anything. Docia massaged her neck again. I’m not interested in introducing myself to a complete stranger.

Why today? Why couldn’t she have been wearing that gauze shirt she bought yesterday at the Lucky Lady? Why couldn’t she have washed her hair last night instead of waiting until tonight? Why couldn’t they have sat at a table instead of bellying up to the end of the bar like a pair of biker chicks?

She was dirty. She’d been moving boxes all afternoon. She smelled. This was not the day to meet Mr. Right. Assuming Mr. Right existed anywhere except an alternate universe, which, given her luck, wasn’t likely.

Hell, damn, stink!

…

Cal’s brain stumbled through a series of increasingly desperate scenarios. He could try one of the pick-up lines his brother Pete used, except Pete struck out about as often as he hit and Cal didn’t feel like risking it. He could try the old head across the room, spill the drink, oops, sorry bit, but then she might think he was an asshole.

He could walk up, introduce himself and offer to buy her a drink. And watch her nose wrinkle when she got a whiff of goat.

You coming up with anything there, Idaho? Looks like your brain’s about to overheat. Wonder grinned at him.

A bar fight. He’d take a punch at Wonder and then let Wonder deck him and then she’d come down the bar and hold his head in her lap…

Cal shook his head. Not a goddamn thing.

Cheer up. She’s not going anywhere and neither are you. Wonder squinted at Cal as he got up from his bar stool. You’re not going anywhere, right?

In the long run, no. Right now I’m going back home. Cal tossed down the last of his Dos Equis. To regroup.

Wonder nodded. Right. Go back to the old campfire and figure out that flanking maneuver. He detoured around Biedermeier’s protruding rear end. Terrell, it’s been a pleasure, as always.

Cal peered one more time down at the other end of the bar. Was Venus looking at him in the mirror? He turned quickly, but she’d picked up her margarita again.

…

Docia took a deep breath. Kleinschmidt was leaving. Biedermeier was only faintly conscious. If she was going to do anything it would have to be now.

Was she going to do anything? And if so, what?

She glanced back into the mirror again, only to see Gorgeous heading for the door. Janie was watching him. Now that she checked, Docia realized every female in the bar was watching him. Wonderful. Of course she wouldn’t be the only one to notice Dr. Gorgeous. He probably had a brigade of women already volunteering to do his bidding. One more reason not to get involved.

What’s Plan B? Janie said beside her. Maybe you could borrow your neighbor kid’s iguana and drop by the animal hospital. It looks sickly.

Docia massaged the back of her neck again, willing the headache to go away. Iguanas always look sickly. It’s part of being an iguana.

Janie pushed her empty wine glass back across the bar toward Ingstrom. Well then, why don’t you take your cat in for shots?

Docia sighed. Right. Even assuming I could wrestle him into the cat carrier, that’d be a great way to get the vet’s attention. Bring in the Konigsburg Devil. There is no Plan B, Janie. There wasn’t even a Plan A. Guys who look like that never turn out to be as good as they look. And they never work out. Believe me, I should know.

For a hard-headed businesswoman, you sure give up easily. Janie grinned and patted Docia’s shoulder. Tomorrow is another day, Scarlett.

In the doorway, Cal turned to look back at Venus one more time. She still leaned against the bar, her rosy hair shining in the dim light above the cash register.

For a brief moment, he could swear their gazes connected. He felt a quick jolt of pure adrenaline. Then Venus looked back down at her margarita.

He heard it then, deep inside, so soft he might have missed it.

Zing!

Chapter Two

Docia brought her breakfast coffee into the bookstore at nine the next morning. She’d managed to banish all thoughts of gorgeous vets from her mind, if you didn’t count that dream about chasing the neighbor kid’s iguana through a particularly long, dark tunnel.

Opening time wasn’t until ten, but she needed to do several things before then, including figuring out what to do with the offending CD rack in the back. It looked to be around an inch too wide for the space where she’d originally planned to put it.

Nico twined himself around her ankles, purring, his yellow eyes glowing against his sleek, black fur. He mewed, plaintively.

Docia kept walking. You’ve been fed. I can’t help it if you’ve forgotten already. Nico’s short-term memory—or lack thereof—was a continual trial.

She scanned the interior of the shop on the off chance some ideal spot for the CD rack might reveal itself. The front was already full of promotional displays and tables with Konigsburg-related books.

Nico hopped from a table onto the checkout counter, batting aside a pile of brochures for the Liddy Brenner Festival.

Docia caught them as they slid toward the edge of the counter, raising an eyebrow at the cat. Don’t you have lizards to catch? she asked.

Nico glanced at her without much interest, then curled into a loose ball against the cash register, closing his eyes against the bright morning sunlight flooding the front of the shop.

Docia considered the back wall. Right now, she had two small bookcases setting off the antique wallpaper that could be seen above them.

She was particularly proud of that paper. It was the one original idea she’d managed to slip by the professional she’d hired to lay out the shop. She’d found the stack of antique newspapers, magazines, advertising flyers and road maps when she’d moved into the building, and turning it into vintage wallpaper had been a full-time job. Now it covered most of the back wall and part of the sides, rising above the brown-and-tan mesquite paneling.

The gray, pressed-tin ceiling in the dimness above her was original construction, although she’d had to patch it and find a few tin pieces to fill in. All in all, the shop looked just like she wanted it—old, warm, lived in. She sighed. Now if she could only get a few Konigsburgers to wander in and check it out along with the tourists.

The townspeople didn’t exactly seem hostile to her, except for a few like Margaret Hastings. They just seemed…cool. Like Docia still had a ways to go to prove herself.

Maybe she could put the CD rack against the back wall and move one of the small bookcases alongside the antique dry goods display cabinet at the side. All she had in the cabinet was collectible Texana, and only a handful of people ever looked at her puny collection.

A sharp tapping brought her head up. Docia glanced at the front door and jumped, spilling coffee onto her hand. Someone was leaning against the glass panel, peering in.

Next to the cash register, Nico jerked upright, yellow eyes wide.

We’re not open yet, Docia called, grabbing a paper towel to sop up the coffee.

Aw, now, Ms. Kent, the door-leaner called back, you ain’t gonna make me wait here for an hour, are you?

Docia sighed and started toward the door. Dub Tyler. And he would stand there for an hour if she didn’t let him in, probably smearing up the glass while he did. Just a minute, Dub.

She clicked the lock back, opening the door so that Dub could slip inside.

One of the town police cruisers was idling across the street. Clete Morris stuck his head out the window. Everything okay there, Ms. Kent?

Yes, thanks. No problems. Docia closed the door again, locking it.

Don’t worry. Dub grinned. I won’t tell anybody. Wouldn’t want people thinkin’ they could get in here all hours of the day and night, now, would you?

No, I certainly wouldn’t, Docia snapped. What can I do for you, Dub?

Dub scratched his bald spot, his slightly faded blue gaze darting around the shop. He wore the same washed-out plaid shirt and rumpled khaki slacks as usual. Docia wondered if he bought them in bulk.

She had no idea how old he was, but she’d guess on the far side of seventy. She probably outweighed him by thirty pounds, and she was at least six inches

Reviews for Venus in Blue Jeans

[kaetrin_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I'd heard excellent things about this series and I actually bought this book a while ago. With the St. Patrick's Day sales, I picked up the next 4 books in the series too so I thought I'd better read the first one. Docia Kent is a nearly 6 foot tall, curvy and beautiful woman who runs a bookstore in Konigsburg Texas. She is fairly new to the small town and hasn't been well accepted by the locals, in large part due to the efforts of mean spirited (and one dimensional) Margaret Hastings. Cal Toleffson is the new vet in town and he's a big, broad man who falls instanly in lust and very quickly in love with Docia. Between Margaret's efforts to run Docia out of town and bag Cal for herself (even if he is a vegetarian) and some strange goings on involving a mysterious package which puts Docia's store and Docia in danger, the pair develop a relationship. Docia has some baggage in that she comes from a wealthy family and was previously engaged to a scum sucking bottom dweller who was mostly after her family's money. The "suspense" part of the book was the weakest, but I read it more as a straight contemporary and it worked very well for me that way. The banter between "Wonder" (Stephen the Wonder Dentist) and Beidermeier and Ingstrom and Cal was particularly funny and I enjoyed the author's amusing turns of phrase: Horace grabbed his hand, pumping his arm as if his armpit might produce oil.I also loved Cal's inner dialogue - that made me laugh out loud a couple of times. Also, Senor Pepe was adorable. However, the book did suffer from an overuse (particularly in that any use is too much) of "the essence of woman", "the essence of Cal" and "the essence of Docia". Regardless, I enjoyed the easy writing style and humour and I'm on to book 2 now.Favourite Quote: Warmth pooled in her belly, and spiraled through her body. Her breasts, her abdomen, her knees. Her knees? She'd never really had an orgasm in her knees before.

[ridley_ · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I'm always surprised for some reason when ebooks are as good as any traditionally published book I've read. This is certainly one of those.

I loved Cal, the vegetarian veterinarian in Texas, and Docia the trust fund baby who just wants to make it on her own. Their courtship is sweetly awkward at the start before steaming up and boiling over into full-on love and passion. The suspense was drawn out well, with bits and pieces dropped throughout the novel, and the culprit a bit of a surpise.

Definitely looking forward to the next book.

[ellenavondale · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Fun book. Not over the top in any way. Yes, it is a romance; no, there are no surprises.

It is well written, has likeable protags, a flimsy little mystery that could have easily been left out, and a predictably lovely ending.

[nena711 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is such a charming story. The characters are real and refreshing and I love the way Meg filters the POV between characters to keep us in their heads. I downloaded this book as a freebee, but now I have to buy the rest, I'm hooked.

[ellen1213_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Fun book. Not over the top in any way. Yes, it is a romance; no, there are no surprises.

It is well written, has likeable protags, a flimsy little mystery that could have easily been left out, and a predictably lovely ending.

[paideiamom · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Fun book. Not over the top in any way. Yes, it is a romance; no, there are no surprises.

It is well written, has likeable protags, a flimsy little mystery that could have easily been left out, and a predictably lovely ending.