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Neighbors We Hate To Love Available Now
A plus size, enemies to lovers, small town romantic comedy.
“I love this new to me author's reading style, the odd denials, the old and new emotional relationships depth, some angst and low drama.” -Amazon review.
Neighbors We Hate To Love
Cole Hart is the sexy neighbor I love to hate.
He’s also an uncivilized beast with a crude mouth and an out-of-control oak tree.
He’s everything that’s wrong with this street.
But when I need to lean on him, he shocks me by doing everything right.
Especially when I find out that under all that swagger, he’s actually a big old cinnamon roll.
I happen to love cinnamon rolls and pretty soon I think I love Cole, too.
Brook Peterson and I share a secret. She doesn’t really hate me or my oak tree.
The spicy view from her window every night tells the truth.
She’s my high society neighbor and I’m a hillbilly from the Hart brother clan.
I don’t know what game she’s playing, but for three years I’ve been playing it too.
Now that my heart’s on the line, the game is turning real.
Is time to walk away or should I dive in head first?
Author’s Note: Enemies to lovers plus size heroine romance novel. Small town romantic comedy. Deer Springs Book 4. Can be read standalone. 98,000 words. Dual POV. First person.
Features and Trigger Warnings: Hate to love trope. Opposites attract. Age Gap. Older MMC (40’s). Curvy FMC (30’s). Open Door. Spicy. Light voyeurism and exhibitionism. Light love triangle. Adult language. HEA.
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And then her soft, delicate hand was on my chest, pushing me backwards. She wasn’t strong enough to move me, of course, but I did the gentlemanly thing and let her guide me straight out her door, those manicured fingertips of hers pushing me away.
“Is this how you want to end our movie night? Is this how you end them with Gabe?” I asked.
Now her face really flushed. “Cole. Mr. Hart. Cole. It was a good movie night. Probably a mistake. But still good. I… liked it. Now good night.” She said and shut her door in my face.
Damn. I adjusted my pants again. Damn.
Nope. This wasn’t how our night was going to end. I knocked on her door and she opened it back up, worry hinting out of her eyes. “Did you forget something, Cole?”
I was going for it. No more delays.
“I did.” I took two small steps forward, laced my arms around her waist and gave her a kiss I could tell she hadn’t been expecting.
Her lips were even softer than they looked. It was magic. After an uncomfortable moment where I wondered if I had much misjudged everything, she kicked into gear and kissed me back, a tiny moan escaping from her lips.
When I finally pulled back, she looked flushed and a little shocked.
I didn’t give her time to react. I said, “That’s how you say goodnight, babe. Don’t ever try to push me out of your house again. Not after inviting me over. Not without a proper goodbye.”
With that said and done, I sauntered off her porch and walked the short distance home, leaving her standing there breathless. I refused to look back to see if she was watching. I knew she was. I strutted like I knew she was watching, casual, in no rush, as though a torrent of sensation wasn’t coursing through me at this very moment.
“If you and I are anything to each other, it might be time to have a conversation about him.”
-Cole Hart, Neighbors We Hate To Love
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