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Published by Swerve, St. Martin's Press on July 16, 2019
Genres: Romance, Contemporary
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A new standalone, laugh-out-loud romantic comedy by New York Times bestselling author Helena Hunting.
Cosy Felton is great at her job—she knows just how to handle the awkwardness that comes with working at an adult toy store. So when the hottest guy she’s ever seen walks into the shop looking completely overwhelmed, she’s more than happy to turn on the charm and help him purchase all of the items on his list.
Griffin Mills is using his business trip in Las Vegas as a chance to escape the broken pieces of his life in New York City. The last thing he wants is to be put in charge of buying gag gifts for his friend’s bachelor party. Despite being totally out of his element, and mortified by the whole experience, Griffin is pleasantly surprised when he finds himself attracted to the sales girl that helped him.
As skeptical as Cosy may be of Griffin’s motivations, there’s something about him that intrigues her. But sometimes what happens in Vegas doesn’t always stay in Vegas and when real life gets in the way, all bets are off. Filled with hilariously awkward situations and enough sexual chemistry to power Sin City, Making Up is the next standalone in the Shacking Up world.
I was provided a review copy by St. Martin's Press; this did not influence my opinion of the book.
Set in Las Vegas and in New York, Making Up is about a man who runs an international, billion-dollar hotel empire, and a woman who runs the local adult toy store.
There were many moments in the story that I loved: it was sexy and funny, it made me laugh and swoon; Griffin’s sexy alpha tendencies had my ovaries exploding, and Cosy’s feistiness and sense of humor provided for great banter.
There were many differences between the characters: he’s rich, she’s poor; he’s in his thirties, she’s in her early twenties; he’s got it all going on, she’s just starting out and doesn’t know which road to take; he’s just ended a long-term relationship, she’s never had anything long-term. And for the most part, these differences worked.
For me, the problem came with the seemingly unnecessary drama. What made this worse was the way Cosy over-reacted in most situations. And, while she is young, her actions made her appear immature, rather than the strong, independent female we are being led to believe she was. There were a few times the mom in me came out and I wanted to yell at her to “slow down” and “quit rushing to judgement”. Fortunately, by the end of the book, she started to show signs of maturing.
I love Helena Hunting’s storytelling. I love her voice and the view of the world she shares with her readers. So while this may not have been my favorite in this series, I still quite enjoyed it and definitely cannot wait to read Lincoln’s book!
We’re a couple of minutes away from my apartment, which also means we’re almost at the end of our date. End-of-date protocol often means a goodnight kiss.
And I’ve eaten onions. Lots of them. What the hell was I thinking? I feel around in my shorts pocket, hoping I have a random stick of gum. I find a tiny square packet and pull it out, along with an old tissue. I shove that back in my pocket and sigh with relief as I carefully open the Listerine Pocketpak. There’s one strip left. I pop it in my mouth, wishing I had water since my mouth is dry and I’m suddenly super nervous.
Griffin pulls up in front of my apartment building. I swallow a bunch of times, trying to get the strip to dissolve on my tongue and glance out the tinted window, seeing it from his perspective. I don’t live in a bad part of town, but I sure as hell wouldn’t leave this car sitting out here for any length of time unless I wanted it keyed or stripped down.
Griffin shifts into park and turns to me, one hand resting on the back of my seat near the headrest. “I had a great time, Cosy.”
“Me too, thanks for dinner.” I tried to fork over my share, but he was quick on the credit card draw.
“It was my pleasure.” He leans in the tiniest bit, a nonverbal cue that he’s going in for a kiss.
I mirror the movement, giving him the go ahead. My stomach flutters in anticipation. I exhale slowly through my nose. Even though the Listerine strip should be doing its job to mask the onions, I don’t want to ruin the moment by breathing that in his face.
His fingertips skim my jaw, and I close my eyes. And then his lips brush my cheek. I wait for them to move a couple of inches to the right, but after what feels like a lot of seconds—and is probably only a few—I crack a lid.
Griffin is still close, a wry smile on his lips and a smolder in his eyes.
“Seriously, that’s it? A kiss on the cheek?”
His smile widens, making his eyes crinkle at the corners. He’s nothing like the guys I usually end up on dates with. College boys don’t take things slow. If I were out with one of the guys from school, I’d be sitting in a beat-up Civic with some stupid music playing, and he’d be all over me with his tongue halfway down my throat, copping a feel.
“I thought all the onions you ate were the equivalent to garlic for vampires.” Griffin fingers my hair near my shoulder. I’d really like him to finger something else. Wait. I mean I’d like to feel his hands on me. Not in my pants. Okay, maybe I’d like them in my pants, but not after date number one.
“I wasn’t thinking, and I really like onions. A lot. In hindsight, it’s not a great date food. I feel kinda dumb. And I guess at first I wasn’t so sure about you. How was I supposed to know you’d actually be kind of normalish?”
“Well, you drink club soda on purpose, so you can’t be all there.” I tap his temple.
Griffin circles my wrist with his fingers and drops his head, lips brushing over my knuckle. “We can’t all be perfect, now, can we?”
“I suppose not, and perfect is boring.”
“That it is.” He hums against my skin, and I feel it through my entire body. “I would like to try that kiss again, if you’re still interested.”