Series: NOLA Heart Novel Book #4
Stand Alone Title: yes
Author: Maria Luis
Genre: Romance, Contemporary
Blurb: Never trust a bad boy.
That’s what Beauty Influencer Lizzie Danvers tells her YouTube subscribers after getting dumped on Instagram. Lizzie may have the devil’s luck in choosing men, but she’s determined to prove that the age-old “once a playboy, always a playboy” theory is bulletproof. All she needs is thirty days and one sexy commitment phobe to do it…
By day, Gage Harvey helps his twin at Inked on Bourbon, tattooing butterflies onto every female under the age of thirty. By night, he works for New Orleans’ Special Operations Division, fulfilling a family legacy to protect his city. Relationships aren’t on his radar–until the hot-as-hell woman on his tattoo table glances up at him, a butterfly half-inked on her ass, and propositions him.
Gage should say no–nothing good ever comes from entertaining crazy women. But for the sake of playboys everywhere, he’ll take one for the team, and prove to Miss Lizzie Danvers that bad boys are the only men who will tempt you with forever.
Favorite quotes: “There’s a reason God made fingers and vibrators, Gage. I doubt I’ll be needing that one night with you after all.”
Thoughts: Tempt Me With Forever had its moments, and funny little one liners that brought a laugh. The book was very much in the ‘now’, what with Lizzie being a YouTube and Instragram wonder. It was a cute little read but was lacking a little something and just never quite hit that ‘wow’ factor for me. The sparks between Lizzie and Gage were there, and they even had a few moments where I thought it was really going to live up to the potential that was there, but it just never quite happened. All in all it was a decent read.
That was the first thought to pop into Gage’s head when he spotted Lizzie strutting toward his old Chevy truck in Winn Dixie’s parking lot.
Well, damn, and also, how does she make sweats look so good?
Her hair shone caramel under the sun, and it was with a small dose of satisfaction that he watched her stumble, slow, and then stutter to a halt at the sight of him up against his truck.
“You all good?” he asked, not bothering to hide the once over he gave her. V-neck T-shirt; tight leggings that hugged her body in all the right places; PJ’s coffee cup clutched tight in one hand; a pair of pristine, white tennis shoes. He met her gaze. “Not used to walking without the weapons?”
“Weapons?” Her husky voice slid through him like a shot of bourbon. “I’m in the market of advertising eye shadows and false lashes, Gage, not shotguns.”
“Your shoes, Princess.” He met her gaze, swallowing a grin when a flush worked up her neck. “I was talking about those fuck-me heels you’ve worn each time I’ve seen you.”
As he was beginning to expect from her, her chin went up in defiance. “The shoes weren’t for you.”
“And I can walk perfectly fine in tennis shoes. I just . . . there was a rock.”
“Yeah?” He made a show of looking around her to where her near-fall had gone down. “What’s your classification between a rock and a pebble?”
Blue eyes narrowed. “I’d offer you a sip of my coffee to fix that grumpy attitude of yours, but since you’re inhuman and all . . .”
Gage pushed away from the truck. One step toward her. Two steps. Her chest inflated with a sharp inhale when he wrapped one hand around the Styrofoam cup. With a quick tug, he pulled it from her grasp and brought the rim to his mouth, drawing out the moment.
At her deadpan tone, he replied, “I would,” and then took a purposeful swallow of death itself.
Jesus. Coffee. And it was black, too. Not a single touch of cream or sugar to mitigate the bitterness.
It took everything in him not to cough and thump his chest, and he made do with returning the cup to her still waiting hand.
As though enjoying his misery, Lizzie took a long sip of the coffee, never taking her eyes off his face. Then, “Feel a lot manlier after that display of cavemanitis?”
It was seven-thirty in the morning, and the fire was already in her step. He should have downed the rest of her drink. She definitely didn’t need any more of a perk-me-up. “I think I liked you better in the heels,” he muttered, turning back for the truck.
“Because they make my legs look longer?”
He grasped the passenger’s side door handle, and drew it open for her. When she went to climb in, Gage put his hand to her back. “No, Princess, because you’re a hell of a lot less snarky when you’re an extra five inches taller. Might be the difference in oxygen levels.”
Her mouth parted in a surprised O just before he slammed the door shut.
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