RELEASE TOUR: Sweet Something by Lane Hayes

RELEASE TOUR: SWEET SOMETHING by Lane Hayes

Length: 76,000
Series: Wood Hollow Stories, Book 2
Prior Reading: Prior reading recommended but not essential
Genre: Contemporary, Rom-Com, Small-Town, Sports
Tropes: Small-Town, Single Dad, Sports, Rom-com
Trigger/Content Warnings: This deals with surrogacy. All happy. There is also a death of a sibling off page.
Designer: Sleepy Fox Studio

https://getbook.at/WoodHollowStories2

The baker, the grumpy lumberjack, and a new dad journey…

Dexter

The donut business is booming in Wood Hollow, along with my flag-football program. Now I’m ready to take on a new challenge—parenthood. See, I’ve always wanted to be a dad and it’s finally happening. Wood Hollow is the perfect place to raise a child. It’s quiet, safe, and the folks here are friendly.

One glaring exception is the grumpy lumberjack…who ends up being besties with my surrogate. What are the odds? 

Yeah…this will be interesting. 

Viggo

I’m a logger. I like wood. That’s it. Maybe that makes me a solitary person, but so what?

Unfortunately, I can’t ignore the handsome donut man’s new dad-to-be situation. Not when it concerns an old family friend.

Look, I don’t want to be involved, but I have no choice. And if that means I’ll have to step outside of my comfort zone and do people-y things to make sure Dexter is a going to be a good dad, so be it.

It doesn’t mean I like Dexter. He’s accidentally funny, kind of sweet, very hot, and—

Okay, fine. 

Maybe I like him too much.

Sweet Something is an MM bisexual, grumpy/sunshine, small-town romance featuring Wood Hollow’s hottest baker and the grumpy lumberjack with a big heart.

EXCERPT:

“I’m not concerned about you, donut man. Only Freya…and the child.”

“Look, I’m going to spell this out for you one time only. She’s my surrogate, not my girlfriend, not my wife. We signed a contract. I’m paying her to have my child and—” 

“Who will help you raise the kid?” he interrupted.

“Excuse me?”

“Who will help you?” he repeated, annunciating each word. “Do you have a partner, family?”

“I have friends.”

He narrowed his eyes. “The policeman? He’s your boyfriend?”

“What? No! Who told you that?”

“No one. I saw you together.” Viggo sipped his water…aggressively. 

If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was upset about that, too. Oh, great. The big guy was a homophobe. Just what I needed. 

“Let me preface this by stating that this is also none of your business, but Reg and I are friends. That’s all.”

“You kissed.” The barstool creaked under his weight as he shifted toward me. “Not a friend kiss.”

I frowned. “How would you know that?”

“Because I fucking saw you from the fucking roof.” 

My jaw dropped while my voice went up an octave. “You were spying on me?” 

“No! I was removing a tree. The policeman’s property is behind Mrs. Abrams’s. You were in his yard, and your tongue was in his mouth. You’re either his lover or his—”

I slapped my hand on the granite island and glowered. “Enough! That was months ago. We’re not—you know what? I don’t owe you an explanation. And I’m certainly not going to justify my personal life to a bigot I barely know. You can leave now.”

Viggo managed to look insulted and righteous at the same time. An impressive feat for someone who was so in the wrong, it wasn’t even funny. 

“I am no bigot. I don’t care who you fuck. Man or woman, does not matter to me.”

“Oh, gee, that’s big of you,” I snarked.

“I’m big.”

I huffed a laugh. Was this lumberjack humor? 

“Right. I can see that.” 

I gave Viggo a thorough once-over. Not the sexy kind, though. This was more of a deliberate measurement delivered with a sneer I hoped signaled that I wasn’t intimidated. The problem was that my gaze stalled on his beefy thighs and, without my permission, checked out his bulge. 

Whoa. Rein it in, Dex. 

Viggo frowned. “I don’t care if you’re a homosexual.”

“Bisexual,” I corrected, crossing my arms.

“Me too. Doesn’t matter. The baby matters.” He scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed. “Fine. You’re going to need my help.” 

He’d adjusted his tone to something more conciliatory and less…presumptuous. I felt my resolve soften for a beat, then quickly reminded myself that I didn’t know this guy. 

“Thank you for you offer, but—” 

“It’s not an offer. It’s a statement. You need help with the baby…and it will have to be me.” Viggo slid off the stool gracefully and carefully pushed it in, like a maître d’ at a fancy restaurant. “Good night.”

“Hang on a second.” I marched in his wake to the front door and slipped around him, blocking his exit. “I’m choosing to believe you’re here because you care about your friend. However, your willful ignorance of the law is troubling. You’re in no position to make demands, Viggo. None. If I have to get a restraining order, I’ll do it.”

He considered me for a long moment, rubbing his thick beard thoughtfully. “That is very serious.”

“Yeah, it is. ’Cause here’s the thing…I don’t know you.” 

Viggo inhaled deeply, his piercing gaze boring a hole in my head. Geez, this man was intense. “There’s an easy solution for that. I don’t like it any more than you do, but…we’ll have to become better acquainted. Starting tomorrow.”

“Uh…excuse me?” 

“I’ll buy an apple fritter in the morning. I’ll say hello. We can trade greetings for a week or so and go from there.” He opened the door and tilted his chin. “Good night, Dexter.”

I stood on the porch, my mouth a perfect O as I watched Viggo buckle his helmet, straddle his bike, and rev it to life. I’d love to claim that I was frozen in place by his sheer audacity and that nothing about this burly man on a Harley did anything for me, but I wasn’t sure that was true. I’d give myself a stern talking-to later. 

For now…what the actual fuck was going on?

about the author:

Lane Hayes  lives in sunny Southern California with her amazing husband, who thankfully doesn’t mind cooking, and their fabulous fox red Labrador, George, who’s pure mischief. Both provide oodles of inspiration for the low-angst, humorous books Lane loves to write.

She’s been telling stories about sexy, funny, sometimes geeky and quirky men who find love for a dozen years now and loving every minute. In her previous life, she sat at a desk and dealt with numbers, so yes…romance is much more satisfying!

Lane loves tea, travel, and chocolate…in any order. Add a book and she’s set!

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Website: www.lane-hayes.com

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