Backlist Tuesday

As a woman, Lauren Phelps has suffered the worst life can throw at her. The loss of her breast, the rejection of her husband, a divorce can she pick up the shattered threads of her life and continue?
Cole McGuire met Lauren Phelps through a mutual friend, his mother. When Lauren took a medical leave of absence, he wondered if he would ever see her again. When she returned to Teague and Marshalls, he made sure she was transferred to his office. Now divorced, he wondered if he stood a chance to woo her.

Can Lauren learn to love again after the storm?

Read an Excerpt here

This can’t be happening, she kept telling her heart. A man like Cole McGuire didn’t stray toward women like her. Yet, as she twisted the handle of her bag in her hand, he appeared around the corner, and his eyes warmed. Lauren’s nerves frayed. She moved her large bag to her right hand and lifted it to her shoulder.
“Here, none of that.” He hurried, reaching out, taking hold of the straps.
His fingers brushed the sleeves of her blouse, and the skin beneath shimmered with heat. Embarrassed, she stepped back, allowing the bag to slide with a little more force than intended. The pens at the bottom clattered against each other.
“Sorry,” they spoke together.
Lauren lowered her gaze to the carpet. It was like being in sixth grade again with Joey Balboa.
“Ms. Phelps,” he began. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t know if, I mean…the weight of the bag.”
Lauren stepped back and eyed him, amused by his stammer.
When the exhausted the search for the words left him blank, Cole cleared his throat and ran his hand across his hair. “I guess I didn’t handle that well at all, did I?”
Lauren smiled and shook her head. “Mr. McGuire, it is very nice of you to do this, however—”
“I always hated however as a child,” he murmured.
She was tempted to ask why. Instead, she plunged on in case her courage left her. “However, I can carry my own bag and walk myself back to my car, which is parked just off the elevator doors at the parking garage.”
“I understand. But humor me, if you will,” he said. “You are a great employee, Ms. Phelps. I would be honored to walk you over to your car on your first day back. I hope you will come back tomorrow and many days after that.”
“Sure.” She nodded.
“Your bag?” He smiled at her and held out his hand.
With a sigh, Lauren handed it over. As their fingers touched a tingle of electricity skittered across her arms. Looking up, she wondered what it would be like to be held by those hands, to have them caress the tender places that lay out of his reach. That’s when she noticed his glance; Cole McGuire expressed surprised. His gaze lowered to his hand at her arm. His jaw twitched, and he placed his hand secure against her elbow. They moved toward the exit.


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