Are you ready for a sweet small town romance with feels?!
A Perfect Fit by Zoe Lee releases on January 4th!
Keep reading for an excerpt!
Two big hearts, one big messy ride.
Daisy Rhys is trying to sneak away from a wedding reception, when Dunk McCoy—the sexy high school football coach and guy known for a good time—comes to her rescue. He's sweet, nice and keeps putting his foot in his mouth. Daisy is totally delighted. A quick rescue turns into a full on press of a different kind. Their chemistry is something different than Daisy has ever experienced but it looks like one-night was all that was meant to be.
The next morning, Dunk McCoy wakes up after the best sex dream of his life. But when his friends point out that he’s sporting a hickey, he’s adamant that his Cinderella could be perfect for him. He’s determined to find her, and his laughing, disbelieving friends are only too happy to send him on her trail.
Can he convince her that he wasn't just trying to score? Or will Dunk's attempt at true love be benched for good?
Daisy Rhys is trying to sneak away from a wedding reception, when Dunk McCoy—the sexy high school football coach and guy known for a good time—comes to her rescue. He's sweet, nice and keeps putting his foot in his mouth. Daisy is totally delighted. A quick rescue turns into a full on press of a different kind. Their chemistry is something different than Daisy has ever experienced but it looks like one-night was all that was meant to be.
The next morning, Dunk McCoy wakes up after the best sex dream of his life. But when his friends point out that he’s sporting a hickey, he’s adamant that his Cinderella could be perfect for him. He’s determined to find her, and his laughing, disbelieving friends are only too happy to send him on her trail.
Can he convince her that he wasn't just trying to score? Or will Dunk's attempt at true love be benched for good?
Excerpt
She raised the glass and hurriedly swallowed the last of the wine.
Taste like passion fruit and vodka.
“Whoa,” Dunk exhaled, the sensory memories almost overwhelming him, the scents and colors matching the woman in front of him. “Daisy.”
“Y-yeah?” she stammered.
He was aware of her two friends eyeballing him, suspiciously.
He clasped a hand carefully around her elbow and drew her away from her friends, away from the easels and the tables, until they were hidden from view by the Young Adult Bestsellers bookcase.
Her eyes were on the floor.
“Daisy Rhys,” he repeated dumbly.
Because, seriously, how could he have forgotten her? She was beautiful, always had been. He hadn’t known her very well before Jamie and Leda’s engagement, but they’d been in the bridal party—well, her officially, him honorarily—together. She was sweet; she’d cried silently the whole ceremony at the courthouse that day, hours before they’d…
His sharp hips, caught by soft inner thighs, cradled and held tight. Her slim, strong arms wrapped around his neck, tangled up in his tie thrown over one shoulder. Her gigantic doe amber eyes glittering with passion as they’d made love.
“Dunk.”
“Yeah.”
“What?”
“What?”
She gave a low, exasperated sigh. “Why did you bring me over here?”
“You’re my sex Cinderella,” he blurted out.
He cringed at himself, then facepalmed and dragged his hand slowly down his own stupid face.
“What?” she yelped indignantly, crossing her arms.
“Sorry!” he apologized. “Shit. Sorry. This isn’t… I mean, I was looking for you, but I didn’t remember that it was you, which… rude.”
That incoherent crap, miraculously, made her crack a tiny smile. But she was still flustered and confused, and embarrassed. He didn’t mind flustered or confused, but embarrassed, no, that wouldn’t do.
Focus, you moron.
“Okay, sorry.”
“Dunk, just take a timeout for a second,” she suggested, and there was helpless laughter in her voice as she took pity on him.
He blew out a big breath and then met her eyes squarely. “I woke up after Jamie and Leda’s wedding and I thought… that I had had a dream. A great dream. Well, the best dream, really. But then… hickies. I saw hickies.”
“Oh, God,” she whispered, even more embarrassed now.
“No! They were awesome,” he reassured her as quickly as possible. “But. Okay. This next part, it’s not pretty, and I’m really sorry about it. But I didn’t remember it was you, okay. So I started looking. Or, Aden sent me on a… treasure hunt? Well, he and Chase held the guest list hostage?”
She took a second to process that and then ventured, “Like Prince Charming trying to find Cinderella?”
“Exactly!” he exclaimed, relieved that she was getting it.
But then her face went a little pale and then a little pissed off. “So you’ve, what, been tracking down all the single women who were at the wedding and…” Her voice dropped to a furious whisper. “Having sex with them to see if they’re your Cinderella? Your sex Cinderella?”
His eyes widened so much he felt them go dry in terror.
“What the hell? No! What kind of guy do you think I am?”
“Um… the kind of guy who has sex with me at a wedding, forgets who he had sex with, and then gets sent on a treasure hunt by his so-called friends to find her…?”
“Fuck my life,” Dunk whispered, hanging his head.
Then he snapped his face up, fully expecting to get slapped.
But instead, Daisy burst into giggles so loud, he expected all the birds in the trees to burst into song right along with her, just like Cinderella.
“You owe me a steak dinner,” she declared once the giggles fizzled out.
“Pardon me?” he asked, at a total loss.
Her face settled into a stern expression—or, as stern an expression as someone as enchanting and beautiful as Daisy could make—and she raised one finger to poke him in the chest. “You owe me a steak dinner,” she said again. When he just shook his head, still completely confused, she explained, “Sex Cinderella, Duncan McCoy? You owe me an apology. And I’ll accept one in the form of a steak dinner, the most expensive kind of dinner.”
“You want to go to dinner with me.”
He couldn’t even imagine what the hell his face looked like right now.
“Yep,” she chirped.
“Well okay then,” he agreed. “Never let it be said I can’t apologize.”
Taste like passion fruit and vodka.
“Whoa,” Dunk exhaled, the sensory memories almost overwhelming him, the scents and colors matching the woman in front of him. “Daisy.”
“Y-yeah?” she stammered.
He was aware of her two friends eyeballing him, suspiciously.
He clasped a hand carefully around her elbow and drew her away from her friends, away from the easels and the tables, until they were hidden from view by the Young Adult Bestsellers bookcase.
Her eyes were on the floor.
“Daisy Rhys,” he repeated dumbly.
Because, seriously, how could he have forgotten her? She was beautiful, always had been. He hadn’t known her very well before Jamie and Leda’s engagement, but they’d been in the bridal party—well, her officially, him honorarily—together. She was sweet; she’d cried silently the whole ceremony at the courthouse that day, hours before they’d…
His sharp hips, caught by soft inner thighs, cradled and held tight. Her slim, strong arms wrapped around his neck, tangled up in his tie thrown over one shoulder. Her gigantic doe amber eyes glittering with passion as they’d made love.
“Dunk.”
“Yeah.”
“What?”
“What?”
She gave a low, exasperated sigh. “Why did you bring me over here?”
“You’re my sex Cinderella,” he blurted out.
He cringed at himself, then facepalmed and dragged his hand slowly down his own stupid face.
“What?” she yelped indignantly, crossing her arms.
“Sorry!” he apologized. “Shit. Sorry. This isn’t… I mean, I was looking for you, but I didn’t remember that it was you, which… rude.”
That incoherent crap, miraculously, made her crack a tiny smile. But she was still flustered and confused, and embarrassed. He didn’t mind flustered or confused, but embarrassed, no, that wouldn’t do.
Focus, you moron.
“Okay, sorry.”
“Dunk, just take a timeout for a second,” she suggested, and there was helpless laughter in her voice as she took pity on him.
He blew out a big breath and then met her eyes squarely. “I woke up after Jamie and Leda’s wedding and I thought… that I had had a dream. A great dream. Well, the best dream, really. But then… hickies. I saw hickies.”
“Oh, God,” she whispered, even more embarrassed now.
“No! They were awesome,” he reassured her as quickly as possible. “But. Okay. This next part, it’s not pretty, and I’m really sorry about it. But I didn’t remember it was you, okay. So I started looking. Or, Aden sent me on a… treasure hunt? Well, he and Chase held the guest list hostage?”
She took a second to process that and then ventured, “Like Prince Charming trying to find Cinderella?”
“Exactly!” he exclaimed, relieved that she was getting it.
But then her face went a little pale and then a little pissed off. “So you’ve, what, been tracking down all the single women who were at the wedding and…” Her voice dropped to a furious whisper. “Having sex with them to see if they’re your Cinderella? Your sex Cinderella?”
His eyes widened so much he felt them go dry in terror.
“What the hell? No! What kind of guy do you think I am?”
“Um… the kind of guy who has sex with me at a wedding, forgets who he had sex with, and then gets sent on a treasure hunt by his so-called friends to find her…?”
“Fuck my life,” Dunk whispered, hanging his head.
Then he snapped his face up, fully expecting to get slapped.
But instead, Daisy burst into giggles so loud, he expected all the birds in the trees to burst into song right along with her, just like Cinderella.
“You owe me a steak dinner,” she declared once the giggles fizzled out.
“Pardon me?” he asked, at a total loss.
Her face settled into a stern expression—or, as stern an expression as someone as enchanting and beautiful as Daisy could make—and she raised one finger to poke him in the chest. “You owe me a steak dinner,” she said again. When he just shook his head, still completely confused, she explained, “Sex Cinderella, Duncan McCoy? You owe me an apology. And I’ll accept one in the form of a steak dinner, the most expensive kind of dinner.”
“You want to go to dinner with me.”
He couldn’t even imagine what the hell his face looked like right now.
“Yep,” she chirped.
“Well okay then,” he agreed. “Never let it be said I can’t apologize.”
About the Author
Zoe has been writing since she was a little girl, growing up north of Chicago. Since then, she's lived in Ohio and San Francisco, and now lives near Boulder. She has a job that she loves, but it doesn't sound exciting to anyone else. She does yoga and takes dance classes when she can. She has a husband, who reads her romances, and an amazing little girl, who is way too young to read what Zoe writes (yet). She's inspired by her family and friends, books and art, and all of the places she's traveled.
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