Myla Rose McGraw may be twenty, single, and pregnant, but she’s no damsel in distress. She doesn’t need a man. After all, her Grams taught her a thing or two about making lemonade out of life’s lemons.
Then she meets Cash Carson.
Reeling from a bad breakup, Cash has sworn off love. It led to nothing but pain and misery, and he’s determined to move forward alone.
Until a redheaded Southern beauty crashes into him. With her shopping cart. At the local Piggly Wiggly.
If love wasn’t for him, why did his heart beat a little faster every time Myla Rose sent that sweet smile his way?
He was no knight, and she didn’t need saving.
But damn if he didn’t want to try anyway.
COMING UP ROSES is a sweet, Southern fairy tale—with a twist.
I’m pulling into the Piggly Wiggly parking lot when my phone vibrates against the cup-holder, rattling the loose change lying in the bottom. Grabbing it, I swipe my thumb across the screen to answer my brother’s call. “Hey man, what’s up?”
“Mom wanted me to make sure you remembered to bring a bag of ice,” he tells me in a bored tone. This is a common occurrence. We all have to bring something to Family Dinner Night, and I always bring a bag of ice.
With an eye roll, I reply, “Yeah Jake, tell her I’m at the store now. You might as well ask her if she needs anything else while I’m here.” I hear him set the phone down and call out to our mom but I can’t quite make out her muffled reply.
“Hey, Mom says to grab a bag of croutons too.”
“Ten-four, see ya soon.” I end the call and slide my phone into the pocket of my jeans.
Real talk? I missed family dinner night and I am so damn glad to be back where my family is. They’re amazing and it saves me from cooking every once in a while—a double win for me.
I’m wandering through the store looking for the crouton aisle when someone rams into me with their shopping cart. What the fuck?
“Oh, my stars—I am so sorr…” the cart-rammer starts to apologize, and I turn sharply at the sound of her voice, all soft and southern. She’s a tiny thing. At least a good foot shorter than me.
I inspect her from head to toe. Long hair, the color of mahogany with lighter streaks swirled through it. Big, brown doe eyes. The kind you can get lost in. Other than a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose, her skin is flawless; smooth and pale.
Her petite figure is full of lush curves—I zero in on her slightly flared hips… I can’t form words, I just stare.
I can’t explain it, but I’m so fucking drawn to her—like a moth to a goddamn flame. I’m itching to reach out and touch her, to feel her skin. I fist my hands at my side. Then, mercifully, she teeters, gracing me with the opportunity to give into my urges. I bring my hands down on her shoulders to steady her, and goddamn. It’s like electricity is pumping from her and into me.
After what feels like an eternity, she speaks, finishing her forgotten apology, freeing me from the spell she’s cast.
“I am so sorry. I was caught up in my own head, checking my list, and not paying attention at all. I didn’t hurtcha did I?”
“No ma’am.” My voice comes out thick and heavy. “I’m just fine. You have nice evening, yeah?” I drag my eyes down her body once more before turning and walking away. My reaction to this girl is visceral—one look, one touch and I’m damn near ready to offer her the world. Fucking insanity.
“Uhhh. Um… yeah, you too!” I hear as I make my way to the checkout.