Love on Beach Avenue by Jennifer Probst
Release Date: May 1, 2020
Love on Beach Avenue, a standalone contemporary romance in the Sunshine Sisters Series, by New York Times bestselling author Jennifer Probst.
Avery Sunshine might not have a soul mate of her own, but she still believes in happily ever after—for her clients. Making dreams come true is her business at Sunshine Bridal, which she runs with her two sisters. When her best friend announces her engagement, Avery is thrilled to take charge of the giddy bride-to-be’s big day. Less thrilling? The arrogant and demanding man of honor.
Carter Ross’s first instinct: call 911. He promised to always take care of his impulsive little sister, and he honors that vow. Even if it means taking over where he’s sure Avery will fail. At best, she’s unpredictable. At worst, if she’s anything like the spitfire of a college girl he remembers, the main event could run wild.
With Avery and Carter wrestling for control, tempers heat up. So does the spark of attraction they’re fighting with every kiss. As the wedding draws near, it’s time to reconcile a rocky past and make a decision that could change everyone’s lives. Because what they’re rebelling against looks a lot like love.
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Avery refused to flinch. Refused to back off from his mocking blue-gray eyes or his smug grin. Oh, he was a bigger ass than she’d remembered—a complete control freak who’d try to muck up her processes and drive her insane just for the fun of it. No way was he about to intimidate her. She was an expert in taming fierce mama bears, overprotective fathers, and zealous bridesmaids. Handling one older brother should be a cakewalk.
Unfortunately, she was still off her game after being completely humiliated by that awful scene he’d witnessed. Even worse? He took charge when she’d floundered, exhibiting a natural command that was part of his DNA. In all her years of dealing with PITAs and planning snafus, she’d never seen such a turnaround from a stern lecture. She’d made a call to Al, the Majesty owner, and found a smaller room at a large discount that satisfied Ms. Pappadelle’s requirements. They’d retreated, chattering away like old friends, leaving her head spinning like those old cartoons with little birdies circling above.
Some cakewalk. Carter had exploited her moment of weakness in order to convince Ally to let him help plan the wedding. Now Avery was stuck with him.
He kept staring, not budging an inch while he waited for her response. The only thing that stopped her from giving him a verbal tongue-lashing was his obvious love for Ally. He’d taken her hand with no pause, his presence a comfort to her friend when she spoke about their mother. It was the only redeeming quality the man had.
Still, she needed to teach him how the game rules worked.
“You like being in charge, don’t you?” she asked, tilting her head to study him.
He smirked. “So do you.”
“When it involves my business and clients, yes. Personally, I think you’re just pissed you’re being forced to listen to me. I have the expertise and knowledge you simply don’t have. It’d be best for all of us moving forward if you stepped back and let me guide Ally without your interference. I promise to take good care of her.”
He gave a deep laugh, and her nerve endings tingled. Bastard.
It was eighty degrees out and the man was dressed in a slim tailored suit like he worked on Wall Street. The charcoal fabric fit him snugly, emphasizing his lean, whipcord length. He radiated a calm intensity that had always thrown her off, even when she was young. Those misty blue-and-gray eyes seemed to hold all the answers, even hidden behind glasses. As if the deeper and longer he stared at her, the more secrets he’d catch. As if he was imagining things she had no access to but wished for a hint.
Back then, the only thing she’d focused on was her irritation with his unfair demands on Ally. No boys, no frat parties, no staying out past curfew. No drinking, no smoking, and no fun. He’d treated Ally like a high school student rather than a college woman, so Avery had made sure to drag her friend on adventures and allow her to experience life.
Now her brother wanted to do the same thing with her wedding.
Too bad there was a new sheriff in town.
He pushed his glasses up his nose and regarded her with disdain. “Taking care of her once ended with my sister in jail. Remember that? When I specifically asked you to promise you’d be home by midnight for her biology test the next day?”
“I was nineteen then! What do you think I’m going to do before her wedding? Get her arrested for drunken misbehavior? Propositioning a stripper? Cheating at cards?”
“All of those are possibilities,” he said drily. “After all, I just witnessed a bride war on your front steps.” Those glasses only made him look stodgier and intimidating. Hadn’t he heard of contact lenses? “It’s simple. I don’t trust you, Avery. I never did. There’s only one person who can take the best care of my sister.” A grim smile rested on his lips. “Me.”
Jennifer Probst wrote her first book at twelve years old. She bound it in a folder, read it to her classmates, and hasn’t stopped writing since. She holds a masters in English Literature and lives in the beautiful Hudson Valley in upstate New York. Her family keeps her active, stressed, joyous, and sad her house will never be truly clean. Her passions include horse racing, Scrabble, rescue dogs, Italian food, and wine—not necessarily in that order.
She is the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal bestselling author of sexy and erotic contemporary romance. She was thrilled her book, The Marriage Bargain, spent 26 weeks on the New York Times. Her work has been translated in over a dozen countries, sold over a million copies, and was dubbed a “romance phenom” by Kirkus Reviews. She is also a proud three-time RITA finalist.
She loves hearing from readers. Visit her website for updates on new releases and her street team at www.jenniferprobst.com.
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