by: Cathy Yardley
Series: Ponto Beach Reunion
Genre: Multicultural Contemporary Romance/Romantic Comedy
Release Date: November 1, 2022
Publisher: Montlake
A hacker and a fixer—who just happen to be high school exes—reunite to help each other out in this witty second-chance romance from the author of Love, Comment, Subscribe.
Vinh Doan has a problem. Ten million of them, in fact. He’s a high-level fixer for global conglomerates, which means big money…and big troubles. When ten million dollars go missing from one of his accounts, he needs a top-notch hacker to find it. His first thought? Emily MacDonald, his high school ex.
While Vinh has been taking the financial world by storm, Emily has been struggling. After her dad died, she dropped out of college and put her dreams aside. Her job in tech support has seriously tested her sunny disposition and her finances. Now, there’s an unexpected solution: Vinh, the guy who dumped her when she needed him most.
When Emily finally lets herself listen to Vinh’s request, she realizes that this is a desperately needed chance to get paid…and get payback. But the more time they spend together, the more they recognize that even though they’re not the same people they were a decade ago, their off the charts attraction is just as strong as ever. As they give in to their simmering chemistry, can Emily and Vinh let go of their past, figure out their futures—and hack a second chance at love?
As she worked, he puttered around, cleaning things, watering plants and caring for the animals, giving the tortoise his lettuce and spinach, giving mealworms and crickets from the fridge to Bastard and Sonic, sprinkling the fish food to the colorful cichlids who all but jumped out of the tank in their eagerness. He then made sure everybody had clean water and that their various habitats were the right temperature.
It was weirdly soothing. Maybe he could get a pet, someday. Not all of these, and not a boa constrictor. He could get like a guppy or something, work his way up.
He should’ve stopped Emily. By ten, her head jerked, and he saw that she’d fallen asleep typing.
“Okay, that’s it,” he said. “You need to get some sleep, baby.”
The ‘baby’ had jumped out before he could stop it, feeling as natural as breathing. Fortunately, she was so tired, she didn’t seem to notice.
“Hmm?”
“You need to go home, get some sleep,” he said. “I know you’ve got an early day tomorrow. And if you get called into overtime again, don’t come here after, okay? You need to rest.”
“Okay,” she agreed, her words slurring slightly. She pulled on her jacket and grabbed her purse, pulling out her keys.
“Uh, no.” He gently nudged her keys back in the bag.
“Why not?”
“First of all, you’d be driving Greg’s truck, remember? Your car’s still in the parking lot, dead.”
“Oh, right,” she said, frowning. Then she grabbed what he assumed were Greg’s keys from a hook by the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”
“Again,” he said, plucking Greg’s keys from her hand. “Nope. I mean, you’ll probably see me, hopefully. But you’re not going to drive. You’re too tired, and it’s not safe.”
She let out a frustrated sigh. “I need the truck,” she said. “I can’t get a ride at four tomorrow morning to get it.”
“I’m going to drive you home,” he said, and he couldn’t help it. He reached out, stroking her cheek, downy soft, smooth, with those damned pale freckles he loved. “Then I’m going to Uber back here, so you have the truck for the morning, okay?”
She sighed. Then she leaned into his hand.
“Like I said,” she whispered. “Sweet.”
Then she leaned forward and kissed him.
It was weirdly soothing. Maybe he could get a pet, someday. Not all of these, and not a boa constrictor. He could get like a guppy or something, work his way up.
He should’ve stopped Emily. By ten, her head jerked, and he saw that she’d fallen asleep typing.
“Okay, that’s it,” he said. “You need to get some sleep, baby.”
The ‘baby’ had jumped out before he could stop it, feeling as natural as breathing. Fortunately, she was so tired, she didn’t seem to notice.
“Hmm?”
“You need to go home, get some sleep,” he said. “I know you’ve got an early day tomorrow. And if you get called into overtime again, don’t come here after, okay? You need to rest.”
“Okay,” she agreed, her words slurring slightly. She pulled on her jacket and grabbed her purse, pulling out her keys.
“Uh, no.” He gently nudged her keys back in the bag.
“Why not?”
“First of all, you’d be driving Greg’s truck, remember? Your car’s still in the parking lot, dead.”
“Oh, right,” she said, frowning. Then she grabbed what he assumed were Greg’s keys from a hook by the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”
“Again,” he said, plucking Greg’s keys from her hand. “Nope. I mean, you’ll probably see me, hopefully. But you’re not going to drive. You’re too tired, and it’s not safe.”
She let out a frustrated sigh. “I need the truck,” she said. “I can’t get a ride at four tomorrow morning to get it.”
“I’m going to drive you home,” he said, and he couldn’t help it. He reached out, stroking her cheek, downy soft, smooth, with those damned pale freckles he loved. “Then I’m going to Uber back here, so you have the truck for the morning, okay?”
She sighed. Then she leaned into his hand.
“Like I said,” she whispered. “Sweet.”
Then she leaned forward and kissed him.
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Cathy Yardley is an award-winning author of romance, chick lit, and urban fantasy, who has sold over 1.2 million copies of books for publishers like St. Martin's, Avon, and Harlequin. She writes fun, geeky, and diverse characters who believe that underdogs can make good and that sometimes being a little wrong is just right.
She likes writing about quirky, crazy adventures, because she's had plenty of her own: she had her own army in the Society of Creative Anachronism; she spent a New Year's on a three-day solitary vision quest in the Mojave Desert; she had VIP access to the Viper Room in Los Angeles.
Now, she spends her time writing in the wilds of East Seattle, trying to prevent her son from learning the truth of any of said adventures, and riding herd on her two dogs (and one husband.)
Places to find Cathy Yardley:
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