
Published by HarperCollins on January 5th 2016
Genres: Contemporary, Romance
Purchase links: Amazon, Audible
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Source: InkSlinger PR
The first in the new SAINTS OF DENVER series from NYT bestselling author of the MARKED MEN series, Jay Crownover
Sometimes you have to tear everything down to build something new…
Sayer Cole is frozen inside. At least, that’s what it’s felt like for as long as she can remember. She’s yet to let anyone past her icy exterior – and the one guy she thinks might melt her heart couldn’t possibly be interested in someone so uptight.
Rough, hard and hot-as-hell, Zeb Fuller has rebuilt his life and his construction business since protecting his family sent him to jail all those years ago. His elegant client, Sayer, makes him feel like a Neanderthal in denim, but despite the many hints that he’s been dropping to get to know her better, she seems oblivious to his charms.
Just as things finally start to heat up, Zeb’s past comes back to haunt him and he needs Sayer’s professional help to right a wrong and to save more than himself. As these opposites dig in for the fight of their lives, fire and ice collide in an unstoppable explosion of steam…
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And don’t miss the previous novella in The Saints of Denver Series!
LEVELED

“How come you don’t drive your cool truck during the week?”
Both his eyebrows shot up and I had to wait while he finished chewing to answer me. “My cool truck? The International? I know about a hundred sixteen-year-old boys that would disagree with you about the Jeep not being cool. Especially here in Colorado.”
I shrugged a little and gave up trying to be delicate with the messy sausage. I was sure I had yellow all over my face, but I didn’t care. The thing was delicious. Seattle Sayer had no idea what gloriousness she had been missing.
“I like the old truck. It’s pretty and it’s so neat to see something like that restored and well loved.”
“I do love it. That’s why I don’t drive it to jobsites. Too many nails and other stuff getting carelessly tossed around. I try and baby her.”
I made a face. “The truck is a her?”
He laughed again and cleanly polished off the rest of his brat. I was amazed he did it all without getting anything in his face fuzz. That was real talent right there, I thought begrudgingly as I continued to make a mess all over myself.
“Sure. She’s classy, elegant, made of study stuff, expensive as hell to keep running and keep pretty. She’s only good to me if I’m good to her, so obviously she’s a girl.
I rolled my eyes and then wiped my hands on the outside of my pants when I finished off my own dinner. Briefly I thought my dad would be horrified at the action but I shoved that thought down and instead focused on Zeb and only Zeb. “How long did it take you to restore her?”
He shrugged, got to his feet, and moved to pry open the massive bucket of white primer he had been using as a chair. My buddy Wheeler sold the body to me for next to nothing when I got out of prison. We went to high school together and I think he knew I needed something to keep me busy because the only kind of work I could find right after being released was shit work for shit pay. Every week I would give him a few bucks here or there and he would find me a part or a piece of motor and we slowly but surely got her altogether. It was one of the reasons I knew I had to find a long-term way to support myself. Just because I had a record didn’t mean I wasn’t a valuable employee or a hard worker. I got really sick of being treated like a second-class citizen because of one mistake.”
His eyes cut to mine and all I could do was nod in sympathy as he poured the liquid into trays and fished a couple of roller brushes out of a plastic bag.
“I actually met Rowdy through Wheeler. He had done a bunch of Wheeler’s tattoo work, and when I told Wheeler I wanted something to remind me not to do stupid things that would cost me years of my life again, he recommended Rowdy and the Marked shop. Rowdy was the one that recommended me to the guys that own the tattoo shop when they decided to open and renovate the new location downtown. It all seemed very meant to be, ya know?”
I did know. Everything was tied together with thin threads of fate, and when one loosened or tightened it was surprising how impactful it could be. Kind of like how I had ended up where with Zeb now.

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