Built (Saints of Denver #1) by Jay Crownover
From the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Marked Men books comes an electrifying new spin-off series, Saints of Denver, featuring all the characters fans have been dying to read about.
Sayer Cole and Zeb Fuller couldn’t be more different. She’s country club and fine-dining, he’s cell-block and sawdust. Sayer spends her days in litigation, while Zeb spends his working with his hands. She’s French silk, he’s all denim and flannel.
Zeb’s wanted the stunning blonde since the moment he laid eyes on her. It doesn’t matter how many smooth moves he makes, the reserved lawyer seems determinedly oblivious to his interest—either that or she doesn’t return it. Sayer is certain the rough, hard, hot-as-hell Zeb could never want someone as closed off and restrained as she is, which is a shame because something tells her he might be the guy to finally melt her icy exterior.
But just as things start to heat up, Zeb is blindsided by a life altering moment from his past. He needs Sayer’s professional help to right a wrong and to save more than himself. He can’t risk what’s at stake just because his attraction to Sayer feels all consuming. But as these opposites dig in for the fight of their lives, battling together to save a family, the steam created when fire and ice collide can no longer be ignored.
Excerpt Built (Saints of Denver #1) by Jay Crownover
“One battle at a time, Zeb. That’s all we can tackle, okay?”
He was quiet for a long moment, but I could hear him breathing and then finally he grunted a little bit and replied, “Well, then the battle I need to tackle right now is those god-awful walls. Thank you for talking me off the ledge. It’s impossible not to hope for the best when I talk to you.”
Maybe it was the overwhelming quiet of my house or it was the wistfulness in his voice. Or maybe it was really the fact that no matter how hard I tried to keep a clear divide between the two of us, I was always going to be too eager to cross over it when an opportunity presented itself. Like a go*damn fool.
Calling myself every kind of name there was in the book, I blurted out, “I’m not doing anything tonight, and Poppy went out with Rowdy, so if you need an extra set of hands to help with the paint I can swing by the house.” I wanted to groan. I was the least handy person in the whole world and I don’t think I had ever even held a paintbrush, but the idea of getting to spend some one-on-one time with him was just so tempting that I ignored all of that and secretly hoped he would ignore it, too.
He chuckled a little. “Are you serious?”
I shrugged even though he couldn’t see it. “Sure. Why not?”
“Well, I’m not going to turn down free labor, especially when that free labor looks like you. Do you even own anything that you won’t be pissed to get paint on, Say? What I do tends to get dirty.” His voiced dropped a little bit and there was a husky timbre to the words that made me shiver.
There was a double entendre there that was impossible to miss and it made all of my skin heat up from the inside out. Not to mention no one had ever shortened my name before. I wasn’t exactly the cutesy nickname type. My father wouldn’t have approved and as such I was always just “Sayer.” Zeb’s shortening my name felt intimate. It felt far more familiar than I should be allowing myself to get with him. Still I didn’t say anything other than “I’m sure I can find something.”