Must Love Ghosts (12 page)

Even
Fairy Godmothers can make the wrong call.

Just His Taste

© 2014 Candice Gilmer

Guys and Godmothers, Book 3

Avalynn Fay is not a typical Fairy Godmother. She wears leather body suits, rides motorcycles, and prefers bourbon to anything fru-fru. Probably why she is assigned new charge, Jason Gregorian—a PI who drinks bourbon and loves to cook barbecue.

Jason's a good guy. Generally decent. Even willing to pretend to be his ex-girlfriend Tessa's date for a wedding, so she won't be alone while her ex struts around with his latest squeeze on his arm.

Should be easy, right?

All Ava has to do is talk to him, feel him out a bit, and she'll know exactly how to get the wheels in gear. Except when she meets Jason, suddenly no one is good enough for him. Not even Tessa, his intended Happily Ever After.

It's enough to make a fairy godmother want a healthy shot of bourbon—right before she breaks all the rules.

Warning: Contains a fairy godmother who's ready to spread her wings—and maybe a few other appendages—for a mortal hot enough to make her drive her motorcycle right off the road.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Just His Taste:

Jason Gregorian stoked the fire of his cooker, getting it to just the right temperature. The smell was warm and thick, and he loved the way it enveloped him. He'd smell like a fireman when all was said and done, but he didn't care.

Better to be cooking at William and Annie's wedding than trying to fend off the single women who would certainly be everywhere. At least he had a distraction.

He adjusted the venting on the cooker's door and closed it.

He looked over his setup, making sure he had everything he needed. Then he glanced at his watch. Three hours until the wedding.

Bruce Matthews was across the grounds, surrounded by beautiful women in fancy dresses. Probably because he was the wedding photographer.

And he knew he'd seen Roark, his other friend, milling about. What Roark was doing here so early, he didn't know. Then Jason saw the wedding planner—Stephanie—sprint across the grass.

That's right. Roark's her stand-in date.

Jason shook his head. That was a weird-assed relationship. But who was he to judge? He hadn't been on a date—real or fake—in months. And had no desire to go on any in the near future.

Probably a side effect of being a private investigator who dug up all the gritty, dirty shit for married couples who suspected their partners of cheating.

Of course, in Jason's mind, if you suspected it, it was probably true. He always advised his clients of this before he agreed to take the case, but it didn't matter. Most people wanted to see proof. Or rather, thought they wanted to.

Then they did, and, well…

Things are usually nasty after that.

It was a good thing Jason had been a wrestler in high school, and later he joined the police force. He knew how to defend himself when an unhappy cheater tracked him down. Even with a bum knee.

He shifted and his left knee started to throb. Great. Just what he didn't want today. The day had barely started, and the knee already ached. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a little plastic bag with Aleve in it. He took one out and downed it with a swig of water.

Hopefully, it would kick in soon.

“Everything okay? Need anything?” Stephanie said as she approached his area.

Jason nodded. “I—” He felt that thickening in the back of his throat, the one where his tongue didn't quite work right, and he made himself take a breath to get control again. He gritted his teeth, swallowing, forcing back the stutter. “I got it covered.”

“Need anything? More water? Or a beer?” She hadn't noticed his pause. Good.

“I'm good,” he replied.

She smiled and nodded. “Well, if you do, just holler, I'll be around all day.” With that, she took off, heading across the way toward the tables, which were being set up for the reception.

Maybe he should have taken her up on the beer. Might relax him more. He didn't realize he was so nervous about catering the wedding until just now.

He didn't stutter anymore unless he was super-nervous or stressed.

And he wasn't nervous—at least, he didn't think he was.

He almost flagged her back down for that beer, but Stephanie was gone. Pleasant enough, but no one Jason would date. With her blonde hair and his, they might look more like brother and sister than a couple. That had always been a weird pet peeve of his—dating blondes.

Besides, the one time he'd tried it, it failed miserably.

Maybe he was weird.

Most guys liked blondes.

He preferred—

Holy hell, who was that?

A redhead, in a red ruffly shirt and black skirt—far too short to be decent—walked around the edges of the reception area, sipping on a bottle of water, watching everything, a bemused smile on her face.

She didn't help with anything. Was she a guest? She had to be one of Annie's work friends because he'd never seen her before. He knew a good deal of the guest list, since the groom—William—Roark, Bruce and he all went to school together. This was practically an informal school reunion.

But her…

Now that was a gal he'd like to meet. He glanced down at himself.

Well, maybe not this second—his apron was smudged, and he doubted he looked his absolute best.

At least he'd gotten his hair cut—he couldn't deal with the 'fro he would get when it grew out.

He watched the redhead breeze across the grass. She moved gracefully, gently, but that smile she wore—well, that wasn't the smile of the sweet and innocent. There was something ornery, maybe even a little naughty in her eyes.

Even from a distance, he could see it.

Of course, being a police officer for years had made him more observant. He tore his attention from her and panned over the outdoor venue, noticing where the workers set up tables and hung decorations. Habit, wanting to know what everyone was doing.

He turned back to the redhead.

Though, this time, she wasn't alone. A man was with her, and the interesting glimmer in her expression had changed. She was not happy. And the man she spoke to did not seem to appreciate her temper.

Or maybe he did, because it looked like he purposely was egging her on.

Jason didn't care at this point if he was staring.

He would not look away…just in case.

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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B

Cincinnati OH 45249

Must Love Ghosts

Copyright © 2015 by Jennifer Savalli

ISBN: 978-1-61922-892-4

Edited by Holly Atkinson

Cover by Angela Waters

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

First
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
electronic publication: April 2015

www.samhainpublishing.com