Phebe Stark needs a punching bag. No, on second thought, she needs a donut. No, on third thought, she needs to escape into a dark bar with a strong drink. She's just been harassed, for the umpteenth time, by the slimy supervisor standing between her and a shattered glass ceiling at her high-pressure Atlanta firm. But then a tall, bearded, sexy lumberjack of a bartender saunters over, and suddenly Phebe knows she doesn't need gin . . . she needs him.
Brody Cantrell didn't exactly intend to become a bartender. He planned to help out at his ailing uncle's bar for a year, then get an advanced degree and rise to the top of his field. Instead, he got a Ph.D. in Real Life from his customers. Brody thinks he's seen everything-until he meets Phebe Stark. And when he gets a load of her fearless sexting skills, he just has to see what's under that power suit. Brody's certain they'll have a good time or two-nothing serious. Then again, all these steamy messages and breathless trysts have him seriously considering . . . Why not?
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