Lincoln found—then lost—love.
Since then, he’s tried to atone for his past, including walking away from his family’s wealth. He opened a diner, hiring people to work for him that he would have spit on before his epiphany. He’s found peace, which he’s about to lose to a hazel-eyed man.
Noel Simmons wound up on the street when his parents discovered he was gay. His path leads him to Lincoln’s diner, where he asks for a job. He’s thrilled when Lincoln agrees to hire him, but finds his new boss perplexing. Can anyone be this kind and decent?
What starts out as business becomes something more. Noel discovers he needs Lincoln in order to feel safe. Lincoln needs Noel to complete him. But when Lincoln’s past gets in the way of his present, will the two have a future?
Buy links: Dreamspinner | Amazon
Cat gives this one 4 Meows with a 4 Purr heat index...
Lincoln once was a ruthless businessman, just like his father wanted him to be until he met a young dying man and found there was so much more to life, he leaves his father's crutches and buys a diner, taking in other wounded people and giving them work. When Noel walks in he is completely taken in by him, gives him a job and they gradually fall in love. I liked the slow burn of this book. Loved all of the characters, even the bad ones ( gotta have bad guys whether we like it or not..LOL)
The storyline is good as well and I laughed and sighed.
There is some light BDSM though I expected it since it was mentioned early in the book that Lincoln played and clubbed in his younger days, but I really don't think it was necessary here. Don't get me wrong it does heat up the page and it is mostly D/s with some edging but I felt the story was great without it.
If you like great characters, a solid story, boss/worker, May/December (it had me here), a little BDSM and an allover great romance; this is for you!
Excerpt...
LINCOLN MERRIWEATHER leaned over the counter, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn spot. It might have been dried egg from Gary, seeing as how he could be kind of a slob, and he’d sat there earlier in the morning. Either way, he tipped well, seemed to love the food, and was always good for a story about the good old days, back before the gentrification of the surrounding area brought in the yuppies, preppies, and according to Gary, other undesirable elements.
It didn’t matter to Lincoln. He loved the place. It was a balm for his battered soul. He got a great sense of accomplishment every day he opened, and it carried him through until close, when he dragged his tired ass upstairs and crawled into the tub.
A quick check of the sunrise chicken clock on the wall told Linc that the lunch rush should be starting soon. He finally got the gunk off, pleased that the counter gleamed enough to show the fading mottled yellow bruise from where the tweaker had punched him after coming in just before closing. Linc had put too much faith in his chances to talk the guy down, which got him a vicious right hook in the face. He’d gotten back up, ready to show the hopped-up guy why the Park View wasn’t the place to start a fight, but was saved from an assault charge when Greg came in, hoping to snag a cup of coffee before his shift. He’d arrested the asshole and dragged him out of the diner, kicking and screaming all the way.
Oh, and Greg had earned himself free coffee for life.
The ancient brass bell above the door gave a melodious ding, and Linc stood, ready to welcome his first customer of the afternoon. He wasn’t prepared for the young man who entered. The air rushed from Lincoln’s lungs, and he found himself temporarily speechless.
“Hi….” The man’s eyes darted around the place, taking in the checkered booths and wooden tabletops. Lincoln prided himself on the authentic ’70s feel of the place, right down to the little jukeboxes on each table.
Lincoln had to pull himself back to business mode. “Welcome to the Park View. Table or booth?”
A frown marred the man’s delicate features. Lincoln decided a face that pretty should never be sad. The hazel eyes and shoulder-length blond hair framed a soft face with rich, full pink lips that needed to be kissed until they were puffy and swollen with passion.
When an answer wasn’t forthcoming, Lincoln peered at the man. He guessed the guy was in his midtwenties. The clothes he wore weren’t anything special, and they did seem a little tattered. Especially the faded blue jean jacket he wore. The cuffs were frayed, and a tear in the sleeve showed pale skin. The worst of his outfit, though? His shoes. A large, gaping hole in the right one allowed Lincoln to see the big toe poking out of it.
Lincoln waved his hand in front of the guy’s face. “Sir?”
“I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t come to eat. I was hoping you might….” The guy swallowed, and Lincoln was fascinated by the lean curve to his neck as his Adam’s apple bobbed. Was the guy a panhandler? If so, Lincoln would be happy to give him all the money in his wallet, because everything in him screamed that this man needed to be wrapped up and cared for. The thought surprised Lincoln, as it had been years since he’d had a similar one. He’d had more than his fair share of bed partners, but they were one-night things, no strings attached. He wasn’t a romantic by any means—unless romance meant slapping your partner’s ass and telling him to lift it higher—but this guy? He wasn’t someone to fuck and forget.
“Hoping I might…? Go on. What were you hoping for?”
The man sighed and balled his fists. “I need a job.” Before Lincoln could say anything, the man continued, speaking so fast, Linc leaned against the counter just so he could hear the gentle voice. “I can wash floors, do dishes, maybe serve food. I can do anything you need.”
“Can you cook?”
The man’s chin dipped to his chest. “No, sir.”
Lincoln liked the way the sir sounded coming from this guy. He was deferential to the point of obsequiousness. Lincoln wondered what the man would be like in bed, all spread out, his wrists secured to the bedposts, giving Lincoln permission to do what he wanted.
“What’s your name?”
The guy looked up, and Lincoln could see the hope in his eyes. He’d probably expected to be dismissed immediately. “Noel Simmons.”
Lincoln stepped forward and held out his hand. “Lincoln Merriweather. You’re welcome to call me Linc or Lincoln. I answer to either.”
Noel’s grip was firm, his hand warm and just a tad damp. He must have realized it, because he pulled back and wiped his hand on his pant leg. “I’m sorry. I—”
Lincoln chuckled. “Relax. It’s not a big deal. Why don’t you sit down and we’ll talk about you working for me.”
“Really?” A red tinge crept up Noel’s neck.
Happily Ever After Comes With A Pricetag Parker Williams began to write as a teen, but never showed his work to anyone. As he grew older, he drifted away from writing, but his love of the written word moved him to reading. A chance encounter with an author changed the course of his life as she encouraged him to never give up on a dream. With the help of some amazing friends, he rediscovered the joy of writing, thanks to a community of writers who have become his family. Parker firmly believes in love, but is also of the opinion that anything worth having requires work and sacrifice (plus a little hurt and angst, too). The course of love is never a smooth one, and Happily Ever After always has a price tag.
Website: https://about.me/williamsparker
great excerpt
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