Do you believe in the legend of True Springs?
Mr. Right doesn’t exist…
Anna Levinson was raised by a single mother, who sacrificed her dreams to give her daughter a warm, loving home. Now a respected professor on the tenure track, Anna is driven to live the life she thinks her mother should have had. She’s long since come to terms with the understanding that “having it all” is impossible if she wants a successful career.
He’s been told he’s Mr. Wrong more times than he can count…
Despite being left at the altar twice, Ben Diamond still believes his soul mate is out there. He’s ready to marry and start a family of his own. He just clearly won’t recognize her when he does find her. And then he meets the maid of honor at his cousin’s wedding, and his world is thrown off kilter.
Settling down might be more than they bargained for.
A long-distance relationship isn’t what either of them has in mind, and Anna isn’t about to ruin another person’s dreams. However, giving each other up is harder than it looks. Can Ben convince Anna that she’s got him all wrong, and that he’s finally gotten it right?
Fall in love with Anna & Ben in this steamy contemporary romance.
Ticket to True Love is a steamy contemporary romance series about new beginnings, second chances, and finding true love in unexpected places. Fall in love all over the world with bestselling and award-winning authors JB Schroeder, Savannah Kade, Moni Boyce, Shirley Hailstock, Holland Rae, Julie Strauss, & Jennifer Wilck. Start your next romance with Better Together in Boston now!
3 Excerpts from Better Together in Boston
“Would you like a drink of water?” he asked. “Or would you be more comfortable sitting on the chair over there?” He pointed to the window, next to which was a blue upholstered chair.
“You’re my drink of water.” She pulled his head down to her.
She kissed him, her lips soft, tongue plundering inside when he opened his mouth in shock. He needed to stop this, even as his body responded. Desire and honor warred with each other as heat bloomed. Her hands wrapped around the back of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. She was sweet, tasting of champagne and grapes. Her perfume was elusive, but there, and he pulled her closer, breathing her in. A breathy moan made him pause. He couldn’t do this. Since she wasn’t thinking straight, one of them needed to.
“Anna.” He groaned and unwrapped her arms from around his neck. “I think you’d be more comfortable over there.” He pointed to the chair. He’d certainly be less tempted.
“No, I’d be more comfortable with you.” She pulled his shirt until he had no choice but to lean down.
Her hair, thick and soft, had come undone. Despite his better judgment, he wrapped a curl around his finger, squeezed and released it, letting it slide against the back of his hand, feather-soft.
“We can’t do this, Anna,” he whispered, even as he became hypersensitive to her touch.
She pulled him close and once again, pressed her lips to his. He tried to push her away, grasping her by the shoulders, and for a moment, he thought he’d finally gotten through to her. She pulled back, before trailing kisses across his jaw and down his neck. With a half moan, half curse, he gave in.
This was it. The moment she’d waited for and dreaded at the same time.
The seventh inning stretch.
Anna was not like the other women she’d grown up with and knew. She’d never dreamed of a happily ever after for herself. Her mom was strong and independent, and she was, too. Regardless of how much guilt Anna carried, she never felt the need to depend on a man, so marriage had never been one of her goals. And once she started achieving professional success, a relationship would just be one more thing pulling at her time.
But every time she came to a baseball game with her mom, there was always someone nearby who would lean over and kiss his or her partner while everyone else rose during the seventh inning stretch. As a child, she’d been fascinated. As a teen and a young adult, she’d been at first horrified and then a little envious. But as she matured, she decided it was stupid, especially if the couple was unlucky enough to be shown on the Jumbotron.
Seriously, who wanted their kiss broadcast to the world? It gave an intimate moment too much weight.
When she’d come to the games with boyfriends—because she had dated a lot, just not seriously—she always found a way to avoid the time between the two halves of the seventh inning.
But today, today, she wanted to kiss Ben. He wasn’t her boyfriend. She had no intention of getting serious with him. But he had tracked her down, he was here, and oh my God, he was hot.
Her body could not stop reacting to him. Her brain was engaged. Her heart sped up every time he spoke. This man was the one she wanted to kiss, Jumbotron be damned.
She leaned forward in the seat and scanned the field below. Almost time. The pitcher threw a fast one. The batter swung and missed. Strike three! As the teams jogged to the dugout, the organ began to play “Sweet Caroline.”
Anna stood up and held her hand out to Ben. With a puzzled expression on his face, he rose. She turned him to face her, took a step forward and pressed her body to his. He was hard and lean, and need spiraled through her. She rested her hands on his hips, tilted her face up and kissed him hard on the mouth. Despite every protest dying to break free, every reason she didn’t want to want him, she was helpless to resist him. Desire exploded deep in her core.
His close-cropped whiskers tickled her lips. It took him no longer than a second or two to recover. He cupped the back of her head and licked the seam of her mouth. She opened and the spectators around them cheered.
God, his kisses were amazing. He should win an award. Maybe he already had. She’d ask, but, well, that would mean she’d have to separate herself from his lips and stop kissing him. She’d come this far, she certainly wasn’t changing her mind now.
Heat flooded through her and she swayed. She started to pull back, but it was as if Ben sensed her hesitancy. He adjusted his stance, kneaded the base of her skull and deepened the kiss.
As the song ended—why was there a song playing? Oh yeah, the seventh inning stretch—he nibbled her lips, licked their rim, before pulling away. She whimpered, wanting more.
“What was that for?” His voice was raspy, like he couldn’t control his vocal cords.
She curled her toes inside her sneakers in satisfaction. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to kiss during the stretch,” she whispered.
“And what do you think?”
Sighing, she risked a glance at him. His face was flushed, his eyes filled with desire.
“It was worth the wait.”
Ben carried their dishes inside, following her into the kitchen. It was small, but the appliances were top-of-the-line. He loaded the plates and cups into the dishwasher, dumped the trash in the container, and waited while Anna bagged the rest of the pastries. He’d bought way too many, and he smiled to himself. The curse of growing up with a Jewish mother—or at least his—was an inherent fear of not having enough food to serve. Or in this case, offer.
“Thanks so much for cleaning up,” she said.
The kitchen was cramped, so she walked into the living room. His attention was diverted to the brightly colored fish swimming in the tank. But only for a moment. Because this fascinating, sexy woman was standing in front of him, and he didn’t want to miss a second of her. He touched her arm, trailing his hand up to her shoulder. Her lips parted as he reached her neck. Her silky hair tickled the back of his hand. He took a step closer and cupped her cheek. It was warm beneath his palm, and with the pad of his thumb, he traced her cheekbone. Her eyes dilated.
“You’re welcome,” he whispered, before he leaned toward her and brushed her lips with his.
She leaned against him, wound her arms behind his head, and deepened the kiss. She tasted of sugar and coffee and his tongue pressed against her mouth. She opened for him and moaned.
Tongues dancing, fingers stroking, his body heated until every nerve ending was on fire. He wanted her, and as she pressed her breasts against his chest, he suspected the feeling was mutual. Still. He wanted to lift her up, lay her on the sofa, and make love to her. But that was what the old Ben would do. The one who’d been left at the altar and made rash decisions and who didn’t always think things through. This time, with Anna, he wanted to be different.
With a groan, he plundered her mouth one last time before he pulled away.
Anna’s eyes were unfocused and she wobbled before she caught herself.
“I should probably go,” he whispered.
She stroked his beard and let her hands trail over his chest. “Probably.”
“As much as I’d love to spend the day with you, you’re right, I do have things to do.” Even if at the moment, he couldn’t remember single thing. He took a deep breath. “I probably should hit the road.”
She took a step toward him, preventing him from breaking contact. “Will you call me when you get home? Or text?”
Home? He was starting to think Anna was his home, a ridiculous thought this early in the relationship.
“Of course.” He dragged the words out of his mouth and took a step back.
Her green eyes sparkled. “Thank you for breakfast.”
Leaning down, he pressed his lips to hers one last time, savoring her taste and smell. It would have to hold him for a while.
She responded, leaning into him, kissing him back, and making that cute little whimper in the back of her throat he’d come to associate with her.
Too soon, she pulled away, and the kiss ended. He rested his forehead against hers. “Next time.”
“I like the idea of next time,” she said as they walked toward her front door.
About Jennifer Wilck
Jennifer started telling herself stories as a little girl when she couldn’t fall asleep at night. Pretty soon, her head was filled with these stories and the characters that populated them. Even as an adult, she thinks about the characters and stories at night before she falls asleep or walking the dog. Eventually, she started writing them down. Her favorite stories to write are those with smart, sassy, independent heroines; handsome, strong and slightly vulnerable heroes; and her stories always end with happily ever after.
In the real world, she’s the mother of two amazing daughters and wife of one of the smartest men she knows. She believes humor is the only way to get through the day and does not believe in sharing her chocolate.
She writes contemporary romance, many of which feature Jewish characters in non-religious settings (#ownvoices). She’s published with The Wild Rose Press and all her books are available through Amazon and Barnes & Noble.
- About the Author
- Posts in the Past