At Arm’s Length

Falling for the man who has a crush on my best friend? Worst. Idea. Ever. Plus – he hates me.

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Falling for the man who has a crush on my best friend? Worst. Idea. Ever. Plus – he hates me.

Jackson Schmidt is the biggest jerkity jerk ever. Our small town should totally erect a statue to commemorate his jerkityness, jerkdom— Uggh! There are literally not enough words for ‘jerk’ to depict the man.

Unfortunately, Jackson is also the most gorgeous specimen of manhood my small town has ever seen. One look at him and I want to jump and climb him like a tree. But whenever he opens his mouth, his status as the biggest bastard on the planet is immediately reinstated.

My libido does not give one flying hoot Jackson is a dick who has a crush on my friend. Nope. Not at all. No matter how much of a schmuck the man is – and trust me he takes schmuck to the next level – I continue to pant after him like a nerdy freshman crushing on the prom king.

If I want to keep my sanity, I’m going to have to keep Jackson AT ARM’S LENGTH.

Meh. Sanity is totally overrated.

This enemies to lovers small town romantic comedy features a woman who won’t let a little thing like missing a forearm stop her, a hunky man she wants to rub up against like a cat in heat except he totally hates her, and a nosy, interfering Grandma who is determined to push the two together.

At Arm’s Length is a standalone book in the Love in the Suburbs romantic comedy series.


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