Hello and welcome to “At First Sight Saturday.” Today’s guest is author, Amber Daulton, who gives us a ‘first sight’ scene from her second chance novel, Aressting Jeremiah,  and introduces us to hero, Jim, and heroine, Calista. Be sure to leave a comment to let Amber know what you think.

Excerpt:   C’mon. Answer the door. Calista Barlow pushed the button again. The doorbell chimed inside the house, loud enough for her to hear. Her stomach knotted. A dog barked across the street, and she jumped. Forget it. Bad idea. She backed away as the door suddenly swung open.

“What the hell do you want?”

She stiffened as Jim’s harsh words slapped her in the face.

Jim scowled as he gripped the doorframe. Then his eyes widened like fathomless pits. His mouth fell open. The rigid lines tightening his face disappeared.

Calista gasped at the greenish-yellow bruises along his right arm and shirtless, sweaty chest. Oh, no. Poor man. Was that a fresh bruise on his lower ribcage? The large purple splotch needed some loving, pronto. Her heart twisted for him. The blue sling and the white cast on his left arm didn’t distract her long from the yummy dark hair that curled around his nipples and navel before leading below the waistband of his jeans.

Ooh, his body was better than she’d imagined—those rippling muscles, and that twisty chest hair she was dying to straighten out with her nails. What would he do if she kissed every bruise to make it better?

Yeah, right. Only in her fantasies.

“Calista? What are you doing here? I’m sorry for cursing at you, but I wasn’t expecting anyone.”

She met his gaze. Air stuttered through her lungs, her knees weakening. Where was her control? She touched her chin, checking for drool. Men never affected her like this, so her palpitating heart and sweaty palms scared her a little. Frankly, she didn’t know if she should jump his bones, or turn tail and run for the hills.

She’d spoken to him countless times at Demi’s Diner while she slaved away, but he always came in fully clothed. Now, she eyeballed him like a hungry lady at a buffet and slid her gaze back to his oh-so-tempting abs.

He shifted his bare feet under her blatant observation.

Dear God, she was ogling the man. He wasn’t a slab of meat. She couldn’t marinate his chest with her tongue. She swiped her fingers through her long blonde hair and looked back up.

A sexy smirk stretched across his face. Morning bristles dotted his cheeks.

She gulped and held out a large casserole dish. “For you. It’s tuna.”

He raised his eyebrow, glancing at the foil-wrapped glass dish.

Okay, time to find a rock and hide under it. She planted her feet on the porch instead. “I heard you fell and broke your arm. You aren’t married, so I figured you live alone. Would you like a home-cooked meal? I haven’t seen you at the diner for a few weeks, so I wanted to check on you.”

“Check on me? You do this with all your customers?”

“No way. You couldn’t pay me enough to cook for some of those people, let alone deliver it to their home.” Her cheeks heated. As an underpaid and unappreciated waitress, she wouldn’t go beyond the call of duty without good reason. “I rang the doorbell several times, which should’ve been a big clue you were busy or sleeping. Anyway, I’ll go.” She bit her cheek, stopping her incessant babbling. Flowering bushes lined the porch, and their sweet scent teased her nostrils. She handed him the dish.

Instead of taking it, Jim tucked his thumb in a belt loop on his jeans. “How do you know where I live?”

“That’s not important.” Of course he’d ask that. She still hadn’t come up with a reasonable answer.

His tone sharpened. “My address is unlisted. How you found me is important.” He joined her on the wood-planked porch, the awning blocking the July sun.

She backed away. He followed her every step and trapped her against the railing. A car honked somewhere behind her. Her pulse leapt to her throat. She fumbled the casserole dish, then tightened her grip on it and lodged it between them.

“You know about my job. I have to keep my personal information confidential.”

She swallowed a moan as Jim stroked a lock of her hair. Yes, please. His chest rose faster as he breathed heavier, and the puffs of warm, minty air leaving his mouth caressed her face.

“Sometimes I worry someone might drive by and riddle the house with bullets. If you could find me, what would stop an angry parolee from doing the same?”

His third degree rushed over her like gravel on silk, but he had a point. Hell, he could read her the riot act. She wouldn’t care as long as he continued toying with her hair.

Before she lost her nerve, she told him the truth. “I followed you one day. You parked in the garage here, so I put two and two together. It’s a nice neighborhood. Quiet and suburban.”

“You stalked me?” The thin crow’s feet near his eyes deepened.

She winced. “No, no, not stalking. Not really. I didn’t plan to follow you.” If he filed a restraining order against her, she would have to hunt for a new job. Sweat dotted her brow. “I went to your office a few months ago to ask you something. I sat in my car for almost an hour, but the pep talk did squat. Then you were leaving. I didn’t want to lose my chance, so I followed you. Carpe diem, you know? I stayed several cars back. It just sort of happened.”

His shoulders snapped straight. Tension radiated around him.

Or was that the morning heat creeping in? The hair on her nape prickled. Her stomach sank like a ship running aground in shallow water. Goose pimples roughened her skin. She was going to lose her job and the man she’d been dreaming about for the past year. Could her day get any worse?

“I’m sorry, Jeremiah. You’re right. I stalked you, but I’m not crazy. I’m acting crazy right now—I’m sane enough to realize that—but I’m usually a calm, normal person. I never should’ve let my curiosity take over that day. If I were you, I’d feel wronged and violated. Privacy is important.”

“Calista, I—”

“Oh, God. Why do I ramble?” She slapped her forehead. “I know why I ramble. I’m a nervous wreck, but that doesn’t matter. I messed up. I’m sorry, I—”

He clasped her cheek, his palm rough and calloused, cutting off her rapid speech.

“It’s okay. I’m flattered—shocked, too—but mostly flattered. Want to come in?”

Tears pricked her eyes. Some carefree, confident woman she turned out to be. More often than not, she obsessed and analyzed everything before making a choice. Even with Jim—at least, most of the time. That morning, however, she’d acted on impulse and now blamed her period, along with her irrational need to make sure he was all right. After receiving several dirty phone calls from a stranger, she cared more about finding solace in Jim’s arms than keeping her distance from him.

Pressure pounded behind her eyes. How much longer could she handle those damn calls? If the pervert panted in her ear again, she might scream.

“Relax, Cali. You look like you’re about to have a stroke. You’re redder than a tomato.” Jim laughed, the corners of his mouth crinkling. He traced the line of her jaw. “Though I do love tomatoes. Are you sweet and juicy, ripe and ready to be plucked?”

His dark-brown irises twinkled, or maybe that was the sunlight.

Oh, God. She was more than ready. Her feminine core quivered.

For months, they’d flirted and bantered, but never made a move. Now, temptation smacked her stupid and tied up her nerves.

She tilted her face away from his hand. “I should go. Please take the food. I’m about to keel over with embarrassment or have that stroke, and I don’t need an audience.”

“I would, but I can’t. Too injured.” He patted his cast. “Come in. Stay a while.”

Poor baby. Of course, he could hold it with his good arm, but she let the fib slide. All right. What to do? Ditch the casserole on the porch and run?

“Take the dish to the kitchen. We’ll talk.” Jim turned, reached the doorway in two long strides, and held open the door.

His hot, seductive gaze lingered on her breasts and then swept to her face. A cocky grin spread to his cheeks.

With a deep breath, she pushed away from the railing and entered the house.

Blurb:  Injured Parole Officer Jeremiah “Jim” Borden never expected Calista Barlow, the sassy blonde waitress he’s craved for months, to ring his doorbell. She slips into his heart—and his bed—but he’s obsessed with a gangland investigation that threatens his career and maybe even his life.

Calista doesn’t trust easily, not with a daughter to protect and the stalker who keeps calling her. After her violent ex-boyfriend returns, she finds solace in Jim’s arms.

Jim may have to forego his need for answers to protect the ready-made family he adores, but how will he and Calista escape an unseen enemy that is always one step ahead of them?

Available Now:  Amazon   B & N   Apple  Kobo   Google Play   Universal link

About Amber:  Amber Daulton is the author of the romantic-suspense series Arresting Onyx and several standalone novellas. Her books are published through The Wild Rose Press, Books to Go Now, and Daulton Publishing, and are available in ebook, print on demand, audio, and foreign language formats. She lives in North Carolina with her husband and demanding cats.

Find Amber On-line:  Website   Newsletter (free ebook to new subs)   Facebook    Twitter  Pinterest   Goodreads   Amazon   Book Bub   Instagram  LinkedIn   The Wild Rose Press