More Than She Expected

More Than She Expected
Karen Templeton

Neighbour, handyman and…husband?Pregnant Laurel Kent tries not to stare at her neighbour, sexy Tyler Noble, who’s helping her around the house. She needs the help more than she cares to admit, but it’s getting nearly impossible to ignore the butterflies she feels every time he smiles at her!All Tyler wants is zero barriers between them and yet he’s repairing the fence separating his yard from Laurel’s! Sure, she’s pregnant and she’s not looking for Husband No.2. But if she’d give him a chance, Tyler could prove that he’s the missing piece to complete her new family…

“You okay?” he said, his breath in her hair as she slightly staggered, then righted herself, The Bump knocking against him.

“Of course,” she said, meeting his gaze. And this time, his eyes weren’t twinkling. This time, she saw … more. Confusion, maybe. Lust, definitely, which almost made her laugh out loud, considering she felt about as sexy as a bag of potatoes.

Mostly, though, she saw yearning. For what, she wasn’t sure. And neither was he, she imagined. But that longing … it not only touched her heart, but came awfully close to breaking it—

“Hey, lovebirds!” said some paunchy dude on the sidewalk. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to get to my car sometime today?”

“Sure, no problem,” Tyler said, setting Laurel aside to slam shut the open door, then hustling her toward the restaurant before Irked Dude ruptured something. She wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or hugely annoyed.

Once inside, however, where they had to wait in the jammed lobby for a free table, she got over herself enough to realize hunger—and, okay, a still-bruised heart—had momentarily made her hallucinate, seeing and hearing things that weren’t there. The longing, yes—that, she hadn’t imagined. But not a longing for her. Big difference.

But you know what? Tyler had already proven himself a good friend. Someone she could rely on. Could trust. And right now, a friend is what she needed, more than anything.

And if she kept telling herself that, she might almost believe it.

More than

She Expected

Karen Templeton

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

A recent inductee into the Romance Writers of America Hall of Fame, three-time RITA

Award-winning author Karen Templeton has written more than thirty novels for Mills & Boon. She lives in New Mexico with two hideously spoiled cats, has raised five sons and lived to tell the tale, and could not live without dark chocolate, mascara and Netflix.

To Kotie-Pie, my niece’s squishably adorable boxer

Who provided the inspiration for Boomer.

And to my many Facebook friends

Who are always ready

To answer any and all of my dumb questions.

You guys are a lot more fun than Google.

Contents

Chapter One (#u3d2456e0-40d5-554b-9298-20be582b6928)

Chapter Two (#u4eab9cb4-84e5-5b07-8bb2-b671aab3b557)

Chapter Three (#u702475ac-3257-5e9c-8743-ebe3ddc039f2)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter One

Lightning stabbed Tyler’s eyes an instant before thunder slammed through the house, rattling windows and propelling him off the sofa and through his kitchen to wrench open the patio door. When he’d let the dog out ten minutes ago, it’d been calm and sunny, a perfect June day—

“Boomer! Come on in, buddy!”

But all he heard was the wind ripping at the trees, another skull-shattering thunderclap. Swearing, Tyler stomped out onto the worn deck overlooking his paltry backyard, the sky so black he half expected to see flying monkeys—

“Boomer!” he yelled again, blinking against the brutal wind. This was nuts—how the hell did you lose an eighty-pound dog? Especially one who normally waited out thunderstorms wedged under the bed. Or, more often, against Tyler. “Dammit, mutt—where are you?”

He tromped off the deck and around to the side yard, dodging airborne leaves. From behind a wall of tangled, overgrown pyracantha and Virginia creeper the rickety wooden fence shuddered and groaned, bitching at him for not having fixed it yet. A windsurfing plastic bag plastered to his chest; Tyler snatched it off, balling it up and stuffing it into his pocket as thunder cracked again, too close, making him jump. Where the hell was the dog?

Not in the well leading out from the basement. Or behind the small shed. Or under the deck...

His heart pounding so hard it hurt, Tyler called again as a bodacious raindrop pinged his forehead, instantly followed by a billion of its cousins. Swearing, Ty shoved through the jungle and out the side gate to the front yard, even though it wasn’t like the dog could open the latch, for God’s sake—

“BOOMER!” Ty bellowed, hands cupped around his mouth, water streaming down his face, into his eyes—

“Over here!”

Tyler jerked left, then right—

“Behind you! On the porch!”

He whipped around. And there was his damn dog, shivering to beat the band in his neighbor’s arms—Laurel, he thought she’d said her name was when she’d moved in a few months ago. Floppy ears slicked back, stubby tail quivering, Boomer ducked his smooth, solid head when he saw Tyler, his amber eyes shining like a pair of lights in his sweet, black face.

Soaked, but hugely relieved, Tyler unhooked the short iron gate and forded the instant river surging across the bumpy cement walk. The house was a mirror image of his, a sturdy little Craftsman one-story with a dormered attic, a decent porch. Pretty typical small-town Jersey. Except Laurel’s was all dollhouse colors, pale yellow and blue, where Ty’s was dark and manly. Or something.