Plain Jayne By Laura Drewry
Publisher: Loveswept Contemporary Romance
Publication Date: April 8, 2014
ISBN: 978-0-8041-7773-3
Synopsis
In Laura Drewry’s funny, heartwarming Loveswept debut, a man and a woman learn the hard way that a little bit of love makes staying friends a whole lot harder.
Worn out from the long drive back home, Jayne Morgan can only smirk at the irony: Of course the first person she sees from her old life is Nick Scott. Once best friends, they lost touch when Jayne left town at eighteen, but nothing could keep them apart forever. Jayne has returned to take over her grandmother’s bookstore, determined to put all her bittersweet memories and secret disappointments strictly in the past—until, that is, Nick insists she bunk at his place.
Nick never did care what people thought about having a girl for a best friend—or the “scandal” she caused by showing up to his wife’s funeral four years earlier—so he’s got no problem with the gossips now. Jayne was always the one person he could count on in his life. Now Nick is starting to realize that he never wants her to leave again . . . and that being “just friends” isn’t going to be enough anymore.
Excerpt
Excerpt from Chapter Two of PLAIN JAYNE by Laura Drewry
You know, I’m getting input here that I’m reading as relatively hostile.
The Geek, Sixteen Candles
Nick held the truck door for Jayne, then waited until she was settled before he walked around and climbed behind the wheel.
He hadn’t lied before; she did look great. Exhausted, sure, but still great. It was hard to tell with her ball cap on, but from the length of the ponytail hanging out the back, it looked like she’d let her hair grow longer. He’d once said her hair was the same color as warm honey oak, but she’d just rolled her eyes, called him an idiot, and said it was nothing more than plain old mousy brown. Her eyes, bluer than blue, could hide her emotions from everyone else pretty well, but she couldn’t hide her other tells, and this one had always been her most obvious.
Sitting shotgun in her ratty old blue jeans and plain white T-shirt, Jayne fidgeted with whatever she could reach: keys, the hem of her shirt, or the rip in the knee of her jeans. With any other girl, he’d have reached over and wrapped his own hand around hers, but this was Jayne, and this is what she needed to do to maintain control. Besides, he’d already pushed his luck with the number of times he’d hugged her.
Holy hell, he’d missed her. He’d missed the smirks, the eye rolls, the way she always smelled a little bit like strawberries. It was his own stupid fault she’d stayed away so long and there was no way in hell he was going to let anything—least of all the mess at the store—send her running off again. He still kicked himself for letting Abby’s insecurities drive a wedge between him and Jayne, but that was nothing compared to how hard he kicked himself for the way he treated her at Abby’s funeral.
From the second she’d come through the church door that day, she’d set her sights on him and didn’t stop moving until she had him wrapped in a hug so tight he thought he’d break.
And he almost did.
His wife, his beautiful Abby, had been ripped out of his life by an eighteen-year-old kid who was too busy texting his girlfriend to watch the road. From the second his friend Brett Hale pulled up in his cruiser and told Nick to sit down, it felt as though someone had slashed his heart in half. It was a pain so sharp and so unexpected, Nick had no idea what to do with it, or himself, and then suddenly he didn’t have time to figure it out.
Someone had to deal with the coroner, the funeral director, Abby’s family, his family, the police, the florist, the pallbearers, the music, what she would wear in her coffin . . .
All his life, he’d been the one who fixed things, but he couldn’t fix the hole inside him, and no one else seemed to know how to help. But then Jayne had walked in, and for the first time Nick believed he might make it through the next two minutes. And maybe the two after that.
If it hadn’t been for her showing up when she did . . . Nick shook the thought away. The fact was, she had shown up, she’d given him the one thing he needed most, and instead of showing his gratitude, he’d run her out of town. Part of it was the shock of having her hug him like that in front of everyone, something she’d never done before, and part of it was because Abby’s mom took one look at Jayne and started screaming the walls down until Nick had no other choice. They were burying the woman’s only daughter, what else could he do but make it as easy as possible for her?
“So, what d’you think?” He fired up the truck, threw it in reverse, and grinned over at Jayne. “A couple dumpsters and a blowtorch . . . the place’ll be good as new in no time, right?”
“Right.” Her mouth curved into a reluctant smirk. “And since you’re Mr. Big Shot Contractor, you can get me a good deal on those, right?”
“’Course.” He reversed out of the parking spot, turned the truck down Logger’s Lane, and waggled his brow at her. “You know what they say: if you can’t be handsome, at least be handy.”
“It’s a good thing you’re handy then.” It was a pathetic excuse for a smile, but she forced it anyway. “Because as usual, you look like shit.”
They were almost to the end of town when Jayne’s head suddenly shot up. “Wait—can you swing by The Inn—I’m going to need to get a room.”
“I would,” Nick winced. “But it kinda burned down three years ago.”
Her mouth twitched. She hiccupped once, then burst out laughing, making the knot in Nick’s chest loosen a little. Hysterical laughter was better than nothing, right?
“It ‘kinda burned down’?” She sniffed over a laugh and sighed. “What about the Super 8? Has it ‘kinda’ sustained any type of catastrophic disaster I should know about?”
“No . . .”
“So what are you doing? Scoop a U-ey.”
“Yeah, that’s not going to work, either.” He slowed the truck to a stop at the red light and nodded toward the other side of the highway.
A freshly washed and fully loaded logging truck had been positioned on the far side of the intersection to show off the giant Loggers Sports banner strapped to the logs. Anyone who’d ever been in town for Loggers Sports weekend knew they had a better chance of winning Lotto Max than they did of finding a hotel room.
“Crap.” Jayne let her head drop back against the headrest and groaned. “What about a campsite?”
“Yeah, right,” he snorted. “You in a tent? And no, they’ll all be taken until sometime Monday. Long weekend, remember.”
“Great.” She sighed, slow and quiet. “Forget the drink, then. You better just take me back to my car.”
“What for?”
“I’ll go grab a room in North Van.”
“And what?” he scoffed. The light turned and he headed north up the highway. “You gonna drive back and forth all weekend until you can get a room up here?”
“Well I’m sure as hell not staying in that apartment, Nick, so unless you’ve got a better idea . . .”
“As a matter of fact . . .” Was he crazy to even suggest it? Probably. Would she agree to it? Probably not. “I know a great place with plenty of room, kitchen’s available 24/7, open bar, flat screen, free wireless, and easy access to laundry services.”
A moment’s hesitation, a frown, then her blue eyes flew open. “No way.”
“Why not? It’s perfect.”
“No.”
Nick ignored her and kept driving. What could she do—jump out?
“To make up for being such a prick the last time he saw you, the owner’s offering free room and board for as long as you like.”
He could hear the arguments building behind her open-mouthed gape. Best to cut her off before she started.
“What’s the big deal? You need a room, and I’ve got one. Big one, too, with your own bathroom and a butt load of closet space.”
“Seriously?” She lifted her hands, palms up, and exhaled a snort that pretty much covered how stupid she thought he was. “What’s the big deal? You mean besides the fact it’s just flat-out weird?”
“Says who?” As far as he was concerned, it was a done deal. Hell, even if there were hotel rooms available, this made more sense.
“Says me!” She made a sound like a wounded bear, which only made Nick laugh. “We haven’t seen each other in four years, Nick, and before that—”
He rolled his eyes. “Before that you refused to stay with me because you thought Abby hated you.”
“She did!” The growl sounded again, slower, longer. “There was no way she would’ve let me stay with you and there was no way in hell I’d even ask.”
“Well, you’re not asking, and Abby’s not here to put up a fight, is she?”
That shut her up for a second; but only a second. “What are people going to think?”
“Who cares?” He followed the highway around past the ball field and over the bridge.
My Review
Gillette Foamy, sunshine and sawdust. If she died right now, that was the one thing she’d want to take with into the afterlife; the scent of comfort, the scent of home. The scent of Nick.
Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. From beginning to end, Plain Jayne had me feeling hopeful, and I was right there with Jayne the whole time. Most the time, with a smile on my face, but there may have been an ugly cry in there.
Jayne returns home after many, many years to take care of some family business and she happens to run into her (used-to-be) best friend, Nick. Well, we’ll just say that Jayne isn’t a hugger and Nick is – that’s where this romance begins.
I want you to enjoy this journey, so I’m not going to say much about the storyline. Just know that all isn’t what it seems and there are some twists and turns along the way. I found myself smiling while reading. You know how that sometimes happens, when you realize your cheeks hurt…but didn’t realize you’d been smiling like a fool while reading a book. Yep, this is that book.
Oh! And the fact she starts each chapter with a movie quote from some of my favorites is awesome. That had me smiling, too. 😉
Pick it up today and let me know what you think.
Eighties playlist. Check. Volume up. Check.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★ Stars
- Nick as a BBF: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
- Hotness Level: ★ ★ ★ ★
- Swoon Level: ★ ★ ★ ★
Buy Now
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Laura Drewry had been scribbling things for years before she decided to seriously sit down and write. After spending eight years in the Canadian north, Laura now lives back home in southwestern British Columbia with her husband, three sons, a turtle named Sheldon, and an extremely energetic German Shepherd. She loves old tattered books, good movies, country music, and the New York Yankees.
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