Annie is a nurse who promised a dying patient that she would deliver an envelope to the woman's estranged nephew after her death. Annie intends to keep that promise, even if the nephew is a sexy bar owner who makes it clear that he wants nothing to do with the envelope or her.
Van hasn’t seen his aunt in years. Now that she’s gone, he doesn’t care about her or her damn envelope. Except he does care about the curvy nurse in the cotton-candy pink scrubs that barges into his busy bar on a cold Friday night in Tennessee, and insists that he open the envelope.
A freak ice storm leaves them unexpectedly stranded together. Annie has a secret that she hopes will change Van’s mind and heart about his aunt. Van just knows he wants Annie and the promise of her in his life forever.
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I make my way quickly to the bar, where a man stands watching me with a frown. He’s attractive, if you like that bad-boy look … tall, built, tattoos, short cut dark hair, neat beard. Yeah, okay he’s not my usual type, but even I have to admit that he’s hot. As a nurse, I can appreciate a well-defined body, and it’s on full display in the stretched to the limit black tee he’s wearing.
Gray-green eyes watch me approach with all the enthusiasm of a homeowner seeing his house burn to the ground. When I get close enough to be able to hear over the guitar-heavy, country music, he leans over the bar toward me. “You lost, sweet pea?”
I inwardly bristle at being called “sweet pea” even though coming from someone as gorgeous as him, it does sound sexy as hell. His voice is home-grown honey and whiskey mixed with a Tennessee twang. I imagine him whispering things in my ear that makes me blush, and I don’t blush easily anymore. I shake my head no and feel more hair disengage from the band holding it back. “I’m looking for Van Hawkes. Do you know him?”
His eyebrows rise up a little before he asks, “What you want Van for, darling?”
I’m too tired for this question and answer session, even from the hot guy. I need a shower, a pint of ice cream, and twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep. Some steamy, mindless sex wouldn’t hurt either. I could get lost in some of that right now. It’s been a long time, and my body is trying to remind me that I’m not the one dead. If only I had the time.
I always get a little snippy when I’m sleep-deprived, so I shoot back. “That’s my business, Sweetheart. Is he here?” The walking orgasm’s lips twitch, and for a brief moment, I think he may actually smile.
I suddenly feel a heavy arm drop around my shoulders and the stink of sour beer hits my face. “Hey, nurse, how about me and you get out of here and play a little doctor?” The man leans inward toward me, and I struggle not to gag and to get out of his grip. It’s surprisingly strong for someone who has had way too much to drink.
“Get your damn hands off me!” I demand, shoving at him.
In a flash, the hot bar guy has jumped the bar and is beside me. “Earl, what have I told you about touching the ladies? Get gone. Now!”
Earl lets go of me and staggers backward, holding both hands up in surrender. “Sorry, man. Didn’t know you had a claim on this sexy piece. No harm meant, man.”
Piece? Did he just call me a piece? I step closer to the drunk, intending to give him a quick kick to his flappy balls. “What did you call me?”
The stinky drunk guy laughs. “Van, you always were a lucky son-of-a-bitch when it came to women.” He staggers away before I can drop-kick him to his ass on the nasty wood floor.
I turn on hot guy. “Wait, did he call you Van?”
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