Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 19919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 100(@200wpm)___ 80(@250wpm)___ 66(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 19919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 100(@200wpm)___ 80(@250wpm)___ 66(@300wpm)
Piers
I’m set on keeping things low-key this Christmas—no drama, no fuss. But then I see her. A gorgeous, curvy woman is walking my cranky neighbor’s dog, and every instinct in me goes on high alert. Who is she, and why is she here? One look at her, and I know I need answers… and maybe something more.
Turns out, she’s my neighbor’s niece, Remi, and she’s not at all what I expected. She’s bold, fiery, and doesn’t think twice about putting me in my place. But I know what I want, and now that she’s staying next door, I won’t let her slip through my fingers.
She can resist it all she wants, but this holiday, I’m determined to make her mine. Because sometimes, Christmas delivers the one gift you never knew you needed. And the one person you can’t live without.
This November, get your jingle on with Dad Bod Christmas. Join your favorite instalove authors for all the festive feels as these irresistible Dad Bods unwrap their soulmates and find true love under the mistletoe. (Because it ain't the Holidays without the D... Dad Bods, you dirty-minded lot!)
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Chapter 1
Piers
I’m glad to fucking get home after the day from hell. I pull into my driveway, kill the engine, and let out a long breath. This day has been nonstop, and the seat of my truck has practically become a part of my anatomy.
Landscaping may not be rocket science, but it’s no walk in the park either. Today was one of those days where I swear the sun was trying to roast me like a human kebab. I swing open the truck door and step onto my faded green front lawn, feeling the slight crunch of grass underfoot that tells me it desperately needs a drink. Fuck. I’ve been so busy taking care of all the well-manicured yards in Silver Spoon Falls and ended up neglecting my own.
I hop out and slam the door shut. Turning, I see my neighbor, Jasper Mora, with his little toy poodle sidekick, Winston. Every time I see that fluffball, I wonder how something that small can produce so much noise. As if on cue, Winston spots me and begins his daily lecture on property lines and poodle respect with a series of barks loud enough to shatter glass.
“Hey, Jasper,” I call over, heading toward my own mailbox. Jasper is doing the same, his mail-checking routine seemingly synchronized with mine.
“Piers! How’s it going?” Jasper grins, looking like he’s just stepped off a yacht rather than out of the suburban slice of life next door. His gray hair is perfectly coiffed in a nineteen-sixties pompadour with a straw hat sitting on top. His bright white shirt is ironed crisp, and I’m pretty sure his boat shoes are older than me. He’s the kind of neighbor who always looks like he’s just about to host a fancy shindig.
“Oh, you know, just the usual grind,” I reply, trying to make myself heard over Winston’s barking. Seriously, does that dog ever take a breath? “Business is thriving, but training the new guys is like trying to herd cats.”
Jasper chuckles, adjusting his sunglasses, probably to better observe the spectacle of me being simultaneously exhausted and mildly poodle-attacked. “I bet it’s tough managing people and expectations all day. How many new recruits did you say?”
“Two,” I tell him, holding up a couple of fingers for emphasis as if the number might need visual reinforcement for dramatic effect. “They’ve got about as much experience with a lawnmower as Winston here has with quiet contemplation.”
That earns me a playful glare from Jasper and another round of yapping from Winston. I wonder if Winston’s part fire alarm. “I’m sure it’s not that bad,” Jasper insists. “Remember when I tried trimming my hedges and ended up with what you called 'abstract art’?”
Oh, I remember all too well. It took me an entire Saturday afternoon to repair the damage. “It could’ve been worse.” I’m not sure how, but it’s the only reply my exhausted mind could come up with.
“I’m not sure how.” He chuckles. It’s funny how chatting with Jasper has become part of my daily decompression routine. Despite Winston’s vocal protests, there’s something inherently entertaining about our little verbal sparring sessions.
“Have you thought about hiring a professional trainer?” Jasper suggests, eyeing me like he’s about to propose the deal of the century.
“Hmm, maybe,” I muse aloud, scratching my head. “But where’s the fun in that? Mixing up rookie mistakes with actual landscaping is what keeps my life interesting.”
“Well, if you ever need a hand or, you know, advice from someone terrifically useless at anything outdoorsy, you know where I live.” His smile is genuine.
“I might just take you up on that. You could always train Winston here to fetch tools instead of just giving me an earful every day.”