With A Hitch by RC Boldt
Release Date: March 19th
With A Hitch, an all-new standalone contemporary romance by RC Boldt.
Sheâs playing it safe. Heâs playing for keeps.
DARCY
Growing up in the foster system, I learned the hard way that lasting love doesn't always come easy. Dating in the modern era can be daunting; the bar scene and dating apps leave you wondering if there's any hope in sight.
That's where I come in. Helping you break the âswipe-rightâ cycle, Iâm dedicated to matching you with the love of your life.
Finding Mrs. Right for Dax Kendrick should be a piece of cake. Except nothing about this man is simple.
DAX
The NFL has given me more than I ever imaginedâa roof over my head, food on the table, and a chance to provide for the family who sacrificed everything while I chased my dreams.
Maintaining a squeaky-clean image for my sponsors when my paycheck and the fruits of my endorsements are all the women want is a hefty challenge.
Iâd nearly given up when I hired Darcy Cole. Yet the more Iâm around her, the less I care about finding my perfect match.
Because it might be right in front of me.
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Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2HgZnQ4
Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/WithAHitchRCB
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Google Play: https://goo.gl/r7a3N8
Amazon Paperback: https://goo.gl/MheXja
Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2TKiVQ8
Excerpt:
DAX
* * *
âWhereâs my favorite girl?â I call out, entering my childhood home. âIâm here, Uncle Dax!â my niece, Violet, hollers through the house just before her quick footsteps follow. My parents refused to let me buy them a new house once I started putting money in the bank. Mom didnât want the neighbors to think she and Dad thought they were better than anyone else. This means my parents, my sister, and niece, all still live in the fifteen-hundred-square-feet home I grew up in. I did pay off their mortgage as well as my sisterâs student loans before I set up a college fund for my niece, much to their dismay. But letâs be honest, itâs the least I could do for a family whoâs always been there for me. Dad refused to retire from the hardware store, but I at least got him to agree to go from full-time to part-time a few years ago. It took some aggressive bargaining, but when Iâd shown him how well the account Iâd started for them with my financial planner had been doing, heâd finally relented. âHey! I thought I was your favorite girl!â another female voice protests. âWell, I donât know,â I hedge. âDepends on if you made any chocolate chip cookies.â My mother promptly swats at me with a laugh, the little crinkles at the corners of her eyes becoming more pronounced. The guys always say I resemble my mom, and even though I know they say it in more of a shit talking, you look like your mama kind of way, itâs still true. She and I have the same smile, and although her skin is darker than mineâmy dadâs the odd man out in the family with fair white skinâthereâs no mistaking me for being her son. I pull her close for a hug, and she pats my back, mumbling, âI swear, you just keep getting more muscles every time I see you.â The top of her head barely reaches my shoulder, and her dark hair seems like it has more gray threaded in it each time I see her. âDonât give him a bigger head than he already has.â My eyes catch sight of Violet and my sister, Ava, entering the small kitchen. Mom releases me, and Violet rushes past her mother intent on getting to me first. I bend and scoop her up in a big hug. âUncle Dax, I missed you.â Her whispered words wrap themselves around me. âI missed you, too, love bug.â God, I swear, sheâs growing like a damn weed lately. Once I set her on her feet, she starts talking a mile a minute. âOh my gosh, Uncle Dax! Youâre not going to believe what happened the other day in gymnastics camp. That girl I told you aboutâthe one who was saying my hair was weird and stuffâwell, I finally had enough, and I did what you told me to do.â All eyes are suddenly on me. Trust me when I say this is not what a man wants in this household because it normally means Iâm in deep shit. âUh, remind me again what I told you?â I say slowly, praying to God above that I hadnât made some idiotic, off-the-cuff comment as a joke, and she took me seriously. Violet gives me one of those old people are so forgetful looks. âYou said I could use sarcasm because most people who are mean and rude donât understand it, and itâll go over their head and be a beautiful inside joke for you and everyone else who doesnât have shit for brains.â âViolet,â my mother and Ava say in unison, flashing me a stern look. Violet grimaces. âSorry. But I was quoting him.â Then she picks right up. âAnd then you said I should let it roll off my shoulders like it doesnât bother me.â She grins happily. âWell, I did a combination of the two. And sheâs totally left me alone ever since.â My niece pumps a fist in the air. âGo Team Kendrick!â âWay to go!â We exchange a high five. Sobering, I school my face in a stern expression. âRemember not to cuss, though. Itâs not ladylike.â Her sweet face peers up at me, so adorably cute with such seriousness that it takes all my effort to not break into a smile. âHow about âcrapâ?â âUhâŠâ I flick my eyes to Ava, who makes a face before shrugging. âI think that one can be okay, as long as itâs not overused.â Violet nods. âNoted.â God, this kid is such an old soul sometimes. âIâm going to practice my backflips for gymnastics some more out back.â In a flash, sheâs gone. I sag against the counter. âMan, two minutes, and Iâm exhausted.â My sister sidles up beside me and snickers. âAs if Mr. Gatorade himself ever gets exhausted.â I toss her a sharp look. âSeriously? One advertising campaign for a sports drink, and youâre giving me shââ âAhem!â our mother clears her throat pointedly. âCrap.â Mom nods in approval, and I continue. âAbout it?â I place a palm flat against the center of my chest, feigning sadness. âWhereâs the love?â She shoves at me playfully. âYou get enough love from all your admirers.â Mom huffs. âYou need to settle down with a nice woman.â âSpeaking of a nice womanâŠâ I press my lips thin, trying to figure out how to best tell them I decided to use a matchmaking service, but decide to throw caution to the wind. âI hired a professional,â I blurt out. As if in slow motion, my mother turns around slowly from where sheâs stirring something on the stove. My sisterâs jaw goes slack. And they both gape at me. Just the reaction a guy wants. My motherâs expression is horrified. Not quite what I was expecting, but then again, sheâs always been a spitfire. âDax Allen Kendrick! I forbid it!â I rear back, confused as hell. âWhy would you forbid it?â Her jaw drops, and she gasps indignantly. âWhy would I forbid it?!â She turns to my sister, her voice increasing in volume. âWhy would I forbid it?!â âSay it again, Mom. Not sure we heard you the first time,â my sister deadpans. If my mother didnât have a freaking wooden spoon in her hand, Iâd let out the laugh aching to break free. I got to know that sucker really well through my early years, and even though Iâm older, I donât put it past my mother to come at me with that thing. Speaking of which, my right ass cheek starts to throb in remembrance at the mere sight of that spoon. I hold up my hands. âCalm down, Mom.â Shit. I didnât expect this reaction. âLook, sheâs great at what she does andââ The hand holding the wooden spoon rises another inch, and I flinch in response. âDonât you tell me what sheâs great at, young man!â I look at my sister, silently pleading for help. She merely shrugs, wide-eyed, with an I donât pretend to understand her look. Great. Iâm left to fend for myself once again. âCan you just put that thingââI gesture to the spoon in her handââdown, so I can explain?â My motherâs lips purse like sheâs just bit into the sourest of lemons. Her eyes practically spew fire at me. âFine.â Her tone is curt. âBut youâre not too old to get swatted with it, young man,â she warns with a pointed look. My hands fly to my ass protectively, and my sister snorts. I glare at her, and she simply sticks her tongue out at me in response. Some things never change. âOkay, so Ivy, Becketâs wifeââ My motherâs expression instantly softens. âSuch a sweet girl, that one.â Then with a stern look, she adds, âYou need to find someone like that.â I draw in a deep breath, praying for patience. âIvyâs business partner, Darcy, runs a matchmaking service andââ At the odd expression on my motherâs face, I stop. âWhatâs that look for?â âOh, honey.â She lets out a long sigh before spinning around to tend to the saucepan on the stove. I stare at my sister expectantly. Her lips twitch as though sheâs attempting to restrain a smile. I wave her on. âSay it.â She snickers. âMom thought when you said âprofessional,â you meant prostitute.â I whip around to stare at my mother. âAre you serious?!â What the hell? âYou really think Iâd hire a freaking prostitute?â âApparently so,â my sister chimes in with a smirk. I toss up my hands in exasperation. âI canât believe you think Iâd resort to that.â âWell,â my sister starts, âyou have been single for a while.â âThat doesnât mean Iâd hire a prostitute for fuââ Momâs head whips around in warning, and I correct myself quickly. âFor Godâs sake.â âWhatâs a prostitute?â Fucking hell. Violetâs just come back inside. âNothing.â Thatâs my motherâs response. âA person who makes bad choices.â My sisterâs no-nonsense response. âA woman who sellsââ This time, I really do get swatted with the wooden spoon. As if it doesnât sting enough against my bare forearm, I now have a line of pasta sauce on it too. I grin and make a show of licking the sauce off my skin. Mom hates that. She raises the spoon threateningly, and I hold up my hands in surrender. âI just want to be loved. Whatâs a guy have to do to get some love these days?â âPretty sure you already know what you have to do to get some love,â my sister mutters under her breath. I jab an index finger in her direction and give her a sharp look. âWatch it, or Iâll tell Mom who broke that angel statue she brought home from a garage sale.â Avaâs expression morphs into astonishment. âYou swore youâd never bring that up!â Her lips curve suddenly in a devious smile. âAs long as I never tell Mom what happened to that pair of booty shorts she got you for twenty-five cents.â âWhat shorts?â my mother asks. I stare at her in complete disbelief. âSeriously? Youâre more worried about the hideous shorts that put my junk on display than the statue she broke?â My mother sputters. âBut you said you loved those shorts!â I glance up at the ceiling, hoping for divine intervention, which, of course, never comes. âMom,â I say with exaggerated patience. âThe shorts were cut so high I wouldâve had to wax.â âWell, you couldâve said so,â she huffs, turning back to the stove. âThey were a great deal.â âIâm sure they were a steal for a quarter.â My sister snickers at my sarcastic response, and we burst out laughing. Our momâs been a fan of garage sales for as far back as we can remember. Sometimes she brings home some decent stuff, but more often than not, it ends up being some hideous âtreasure.â Hence the shorts. âYou two are gonna get it!â Mom warns, raising that infamous wooden spoon once more. Man, itâs good to be home.
About RC Boldt
RC Boldt enjoys long walks on the beach, running, reading, people watching, and singing karaoke. If you're in the mood for some killer homemade mojitos, can't recall the lyrics to a particular 80's song, or just need to hang around a nonconformist who will do almost anything for a laugh, she's your girl. â©
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via Blogger https://ift.tt/2OnxKq4 March 22, 2019 at 08:30AM
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C.J. ButcherAuthor, Reviewer, Manager, Personal Assistant, Best Friend, Daughter. Of all the hats👒 I wear, daughter👪 is the one I treasure💰 the most. 💙loverofbigbookscannotlie.blogspot.com Debbie Butcher is a mother, friend and avid reader who in her spare time enjoys all things family. She has 2 dogs who can always be found on her lap, an ice tea at her side and a daughter who dotes on her. Her husband and her are retired in NC.
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