Sparking her Heart: Hot & Heavy in Paradise, #10

By Dezi Dixon

Joey Reed needs help in the worst way. If it isn't her HOA breathing down her neck about the shape of her Christmas bulbs, it's the fact she set her rental house on fire. Thank goodness for the nosey old coots because they saved the place from becoming a pile of ashes. Now she needs help getting the place back in order before her jerk of a landlord finds out what happened.

Quinten Shaft has the name of a porn star and the moves of one too. Don't let that fool you, he's actually really good with his tools. One look at Joey, and he's relieved to be working for her and not some dude named Joey over the holiday. The fact they have sexual chemistry in spades makes the whole thing even better.

When the douche landlord makes an appearance, Joey knows her holiday is shot. What she doesn't realize is that she's won over the heart of a Hunky Helper, and when you have one, you have them all.

Warning: This book contains a gossip telephone chain like you would not believe, a woman who knows how to use her hands, and a Christmas gift that's perfect for the occasion. Should we repeat the man with the porn star name and has the moves of one too? You're welcome.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dezi Dixon
• Release date: Jan 26, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393292128

Book preview

1

Joey

Rent a house, they said, I mumbled as I pulled on the tangled mess in front of me. It’ll be fun, they said. I yanked harder, falling to my butt. Bullshit.

I’d been a renter my short adult life, and I’d always been in apartments. My friends talked me into looking at houses this time, saying they thought I’d like it more. While I loved not sharing walls with anyone, the rest of the stuff was making me question everyone’s, including my own, judgment.

Hi, dear, my neighbor, Mrs. Wintworth, called as she strolled my way.

I pasted on a big smile, hoping it didn’t look fake, and waved back. My smile dropped when I noticed the dear old woman was power walking my direction.

Oh no, no, no, she chided as she came to a stop in front of me, taking in the work I’d already done on the house.

Maybe a giant bird or alien had landed since I last looked, so I turned to see why she was so upset. Nothing was out of the ordinary. Sure, the lights I’d been working on hanging for Christmas weren’t finished and part of them hung down from the roof onto the lawn, but surely she realized I’d be taking care of that.

I’ll put those up on the house before I call it quits, I told her, crossing my heart.

She looked about to stroke out. Mrs. Wintworth had her hand up to her mouth and was looking at my house in horror. I would be the first to tell you I wasn’t the best at home jobs, but really, it wasn’t that bad.

Didn’t you read the HOA guidelines? They even mailed out a letter last week.

The HOA where I moved in was a nightmare. My landlord had promised he’d get me the book, but he never did. It didn’t matter because I ended up meeting Mrs. Cunningham as I was moving into the place. She had come over to inform me there were too many cars parked at the house, no matter that they were filled with my stuff, and then came back three hours later with the handbook—or novel was more like it. The people in Shady Grove liked their rules and regulations, and they did anything and everything to enforce them. I wouldn’t even get started on the Pretty Police that walked the neighborhood at least once a week to write tickets for anything they thought might be wrong.

Yes, this community liked things a certain way. That’s why when I got the note about lights, I wasn’t surprised. I didn’t want to put up Christmas decorations of any kind, but according to the HOA guidelines, every house in Shady Grove was required to hang lights. They even specified what color.

I did. Why do you think I’m hanging these? I asked, holding out my hands and presenting the lights like Vanna White.

No, dear, this is all wrong.

Wrong? No, they aren’t. I got green just like the letter told me.

I watched as Mrs. Wintworth pulled a piece of paper from the pocketbook she was clutching, unfolded it, and perched her readers on her nose. It says here you’re to use lights that are rounded, not teardrop, in shape.

I looked down at the lights on the lawn and then up to the ones I’d already hung. Well, shit.

Shit indeed. If it makes things better, I think Mr. Tadderbalm left lights in the house.

Eddy left lights here? I asked about my landlord.

I’m sure he did. Unless those no-good tenants that rented from him last time ran off with them.

As ever, you are a wealth of knowledge, Mrs. Wintworth. Thank you.

My pleasure, dear. She patted me on the arm and strolled back toward her house.

I really wanted to punch something or someone, but hurting my hand wasn’t an option. Being a masseuse, I needed to keep my hands in working order. That’s why I kept one of those kid’s inflatable punching toys in my house. I’m not proud to say I needed it as an outlet, but it worked.

I looked around the yard and dropped the lights where they were. No sense in messing with them any more than I already had since they all had to come down anyway. Only one place in the house remained that I hadn’t searched and that was the attic. If they weren’t there, those no good tenants probably took off with them, and I would be up a creek without a paddle.

I pulled