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    Summer Love in the Country: Sweet & Steamy Instalove Romance #1 (Summer Instalove)


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      Summer Love in the Country

      Sweet & Steamy Instalove Romance #1

      By Haley Travis

      Copyright 2020 Haley Travis. All rights reserved. Cover design by Lexie Renard.

      No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted or duplicated in any form whatsoever without express written permission of the author. This book is intended for sale to adults only. This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to actual people or specific locations or details is completely coincidental, or intended fictitiously. All characters are over 18, no sex partners are related, all sex is consensual. This is fantasy. In the real world, everyone practices safe sex at all times. Right? Right.

      Please stay in touch.

      Email newsletter subscribers will receive a FREE instalove romance book!

      Click here to subscribe

      or visit HaleyTravisRomance.com

      TABLE OF CONTENTS

      PROLOGUE ~ Joanna

      CHAPTER ONE ~ Joanna

      CHAPTER TWO ~ Dean

      CHAPTER THREE ~ Joanna

      CHAPTER FOUR ~ Dean

      CHAPTER FIVE ~ Joanna

      CHAPTER SIX ~ Dean

      CHAPTER SEVEN ~ Joanna

      CHAPTER EIGHT ~ Dean

      CHAPTER NINE ~ Joanna

      CHAPTER TEN ~ Dean

      CHAPTER ELEVEN ~ Joanna

      CHAPTER TWELVE ~ Dean

      CHAPTER THIRTEEN ~ Joanna

      EPILOGUE ONE ~ Joanna

      EPILOGUE TWO ~ Dean

      Other Stories, Free Book Link, About the Author

      PROLOGUE

      * Joanna *

      “Foods before dudes.”

      “Friends before mens.”

      “Cocktails before–”

      “Kim, lower your voice,” I hissed. “Believe it or not, there might be civilized people here

      somewhere.”

      Her glossy black hair was tossed over her shoulder with a giggle before Kim rolled her

      eyes. “We are not leaving this table until we find a female-friendly way to say ‘bros before

      hoes’.”

      “We’ve always just called this ‘Girly Thursdays’,” Laura said, swirling her wine. She held it

      up to the light for a second as if she were analyzing the colors. “Isn’t that good enough?”

      “You heard her highness,” I said, pointing at each one of the four other girls with my own

      wine glass. “Kim is convinced that we are all finding boyfriends this summer.”

      Kate chuckled. “We don’t need a catchphrase to stay together as a team, with or without

      boyfriends.”

      “You know I’m right,” Kim said quite seriously. “We’re all due for a change. We’re all at a

      place in our lives where either a great relationship or a great fling would do each of us a

      world of good.”

      Becca shook her head. “I’m not having a fling. It’s just not me.” Of the five of us, she was

      definitely the most timid, her hands trembling slightly as she brushed back her wild, wavy

      auburn hair.

      The murmur of our local pub grew quieter until I could actually hear the hum of the ceiling

      fans. “Me either,” I said cautiously.

      Kim’s head spun in my direction, staring at me. “Joanna, you just finished saying that you

      need to try new things, and break out of your shell.”

      “That doesn’t mean I have to… Fling,” I laughed. “I promise that if I find a guy I really like, I will entertain the thought of kissing him. Perhaps going on a real date.”

      “That’s certainly a start,” Kate said. “No matter what actually happens this summer, I think

      that if we all stay open-minded and just try to get started on the whole dating process, that

      would be amazing.” She always looked so calm, with her brown hair pulled back in a

      sensible braid, drawing more attention to her flashing green eyes.

      Laura giggled. “Kate’s going camping in the woods. The only men she’s going to meet are lumberjacks or axe murderers.”

      “Thanks a lot,” Kate grumbled, dipping her last two fries into a puddle of ketchup. “What

      about Joanna? She might be the only girl out there surrounded by sexy farm boys.”

      I could feel myself blushing just from the thought of it. Small town boys had always seemed

      sweeter, somehow. I liked thinking about a sexy man just like everyone else, but I was also

      hoping to someday find a guy who was truly sweet and thoughtful.

      “They might be hunks,” Becca said, flashing me a grin. “Big burly men who are going to

      show you all about the countryside.”

      “Maybe she’ll get to ride on a tractor, or even more,” Kim said, raising her eyebrows

      saucily.

      “Come on guys, don’t make me more nervous than I already am,” I begged.

      “You’re going to be fine,” Becca said, patting my hand across the table. “And we’ll only be a

      phone call away.”

      “Unless they have no cell service out there, in which case, you’re totally doomed,” Laura

      giggled.

      Shaking my head, I looked around the table. My four best friends were always here for me.

      Always ready with advice, or a sympathetic ear, or ready to kick my butt when I was

      getting down on myself.

      Thank goodness we’d all found each other. The rest of the students in our university classes

      were only interested in partying. We all wanted to get a good education, and eventually,

      great careers. So what if that made us a little nerdy. We were also driven, even if we

      tended to be a bit quiet. That’s why we didn’t bother dating in school – it seemed a waste

      of time. Well, that and the guys were mostly pigs.

      “It’s going to be weird not seeing everyone together for several weeks,” I said.

      Everyone nodded, staring down into their drinks. Our Thursdays at Julian’s Pub had been

      our ritual all through university, and the few months since we graduated. Now that we were

      all twenty-one and trying to figure out our lives, we stuck together more than ever.

      Having this regular night where at least three of the five of us would be at this round table

      kept us all relatively sane. This was the spot where problems were solved, emotions were

      vented, and important plans were hashed out.

      We’d been sitting at this very table the week after New Year’s when we realized we all had

      to do something interesting for our summer vacations. We all began planning, calling in

      favors, and searching online, both for ourselves, and the other girls.

      Tomorrow morning I was going to be the first to leave, headed out to the country for a ten-day working artist retreat.

      “Are you excited about tomorrow?” Laura asked me.

      “Excited is a word. Nervous is another word,” I said softly.

      “It’ll be easy,” Becca smiled. “You’ll pick blueberries or whatever in the morning, write

      poetry all afternoon, and have dates with sexy farmers at night.”

      “Good grief,” I muttered. “I’ll be far more focused on finishing my book than any farm guys.”

      Kim waved her perfectly manicured finger in my face, her silver rings flashing. “But you’re

      going to keep your eyes open,” she insisted. “Ope
    n to possibilities. Even if it goes no

      further than an innocent flirtation. We each have to take a few steps.”

      “Or in Kim’s case, run a marathon,” Kate muttered.

      We all cracked up while Kim waved her hand in the air proudly as if she were on a parade

      float. “Sure. I’ve been on a few lousy first dates, and I’ve had one two-month relationship. If that makes me the most experienced woman at the table, that’s just sad for all of us.”

      “Um, speaking of that, remember what we talked about after New Year’s?” Kate asked

      quietly. “Is everyone on the pill?”

      “Yes,” we all chimed. Kate’s cousin had a close call last summer, and now she was the

      poster girl for birth control, even for virgins.

      We nodded to each other, realizing that we were all taking this a little more seriously than

      we were letting on. It was clear that some of us wanted to stay in our bubble of single-hood

      for a bit longer, but if we ever wanted to find real relationships, we were going to have to

      start practicing.

      Since the only family I had was my mostly silent mother, I was extremely grateful to have

      these four almost-sisters to give me an occasional push.

      My phone beeped, and I took my last sip of wine. “I’m sorry, I have to go. I need to double-

      check my packing, because I have to get up early.”

      “I thought the train trip was only an hour and a half?” Becca asked, her pink-tipped fingers

      fiddling with her necklace.

      “That’s the express train. I got a deal on a ticket for the one that makes every stop.”

      “I’ve always liked trains,” Laura said. “Bring a good book – it’s always tranquil reading as

      the train rocks you.”

      “Just as long as you find a man to rock you,” Kim snorted.

      Dropping some cash on the table, I hugged each of them goodbye. “Have a good time gossiping about me while I’m away,” I joked. “I expect to hear crazy tales from each of you

      this month.”

      “And we’ll see you in four weeks or so at ‘Dolls before Balls’,” Kim said brightly.

      As I waved and turned for the door, I could hear Kate saying, “Actually, that last one isn’t

      quite so bad.”

      CHAPTER ONE

      * Joanna *

      For a girl who was pretty nervous about new things, this had been a very stressful day. It

      was the first time I’d ever gone on a trip on my own. Maybe that was strange, considering

      that I was twenty-one years old and had traveled a bit. But I’d always had friends with me.

      Taking off on my own out to the country for a ten-day retreat was one of the boldest things

      I’d ever planned. Although my stomach had been tied up in knots for the past several days

      while I packed and prepared, I knew that this would be an important learning experience for

      me.

      Not to mention, it would force me to complete my poetry book. Although this was a

      vacation, it was also a personal writer’s retreat. I’d been writing a collection of poetry for two years now, but it was only two-thirds of the way done. This dedicated time would force

      me to finish the missing sections, and edit everything at once with a clear eye. No

      distractions.

      As soon as I got the book done and began sending it out to publishers, I was going to focus

      on applying for copywriting jobs and pitching articles to various media. My small portfolio of published pieces on various websites was highlighted by a feature in a popular magazine.

      Well, it was popular among real estate agents. But I still got paid a lot more for a few hours work than I did working at my neighborhood cafe.

      Staring out the train window as the buildings grew smaller and farther apart, I was soon

      staring at trees and fields. The sky was so much bigger out here. As a city girl, I hadn’t

      spent much time in the country except for occasional camping trips when I was little. Now I

      was going to live on a working farm for almost two weeks.

      When I first heard about Harmer’s Farm, I instantly thought it was a brilliant idea. They

      provided free room and board for artists, writers, and musicians to have some quiet

      working time. The only catch was that guests had to work in the fields for the morning, and

      one hour a day in the kitchen.

      Besides feeding the guests, they had a huge second kitchen where they made jams and

      preserves. So this would be sort of a working vacation, and give me a chance to try many

      new things in a very different environment.

      Even though I had zero experience in the farming arts, the friendly woman on the phone

      assured me that I would be coached through everything, and the work was simple.

      “That doesn’t mean it’s easy,” Miriam had laughed. “Bring a ton of sunscreen and a great

      big hat. You’ll have aching shoulders, ruined fingernails, but I promise you’ll have a giant

      smile on your face at the end of every day.”

      When the train began to slow down outside the tiny town that was my destination, I saw several fields that were all different shades of green. It was far away from the tracks, but I could almost make out the shape of the Harmer’s Farm logo painted on a barn in the

      distance.

      Lugging my suitcase and laptop bag off the train, I noticed that I was one of only five

      people getting off at this stop, the other four being white-haired ladies in their sixties. The porter helped me lift my suitcase off the last step, then gave me a kind smile. “I’m going to

      guess that you’re here for Harmer’s Farm, not the annual quilting festival,” he smiled.

      “You’re practically psychic,” I laughed.

      He set my suitcase down, expertly snapping out the handle so that I could roll it easily. “The parking lot is on the far side of the station. You’ll see a brown truck with the farm logo on it.”

      “Thank you so much,” I said, breathing in the fresh country air as I rolled along the uneven

      pavement.

      It was obvious that the station wasn’t used very much, but it was in pretty good repair. It

      was quaint, with big tubs of flowers in front, beside the large door facing the tracks.

      Looking across the wide-open fields, I was absolutely thrilled to be here. Sure, it was a

      huge change from my regular life, but that was the point. Since my writing had been

      blocked, I needed some kind of kick in the butt to shake my creativity loose.

      I figured being bone-tired from physical labor would be a great shock to the system, and a

      huge change from serving coffee and running around the café. As I smiled up to the sky, the

      afternoon sun so warm on my face, I felt like my new surroundings were definitely going to

      inspire my poetry.

      Turning the corner to face the parking lot, I saw a big brown pickup. A huge man leaned

      against the driver’s side door, looking away from the train across the fields.

      He was probably in his mid-thirties, and from the way his faded blue t-shirt stretched tightly across his chest and shoulders, I could guess that he did a lot of work on the farm. Heavy,

      intense work. His forearms and hands looked unusually strong. I was surprised to feel a

      little flutter deep inside.

      The train pulled away, it’s rumbling noise drowning out my rolling suitcase as I approached.

      He was quite tall, and as I came closer, I could see that his short wavy brown hair, and

      handsome profile framed the most lively brown eyes I’d ever seen.

      He turned to me, blinking twice as he took me in. “Joanna?”

      I nodded. “Hi.”

      I’d always been nervous
    around men, especially strangers, but I was going to be living with

      these people for a whole two weeks. Yet another thing to push me out of my comfort zone.

      I was going to have to learn how to deal with it.

      He quickly took my suitcase with his left hand, extending his right to shake mine. “I’m Dean,”

      he said with a breathtaking grin. “I’m one of the folks who’ll be teaching you how to be a

      temporary farmhand.”

      “Nice to meet you,” I said. His hand was warm, and slightly rough, sending another sliver of

      heat through my core.

      He lifted my suitcase and set it in the back of the truck so easily I nearly gasped. But I

      guess he was used to hauling… Hay bales, or whatever they did out here.

      “May I take your other bag?” he asked.

      “No, thank you. It’s my laptop.”

      He nodded, opening the passenger door to help me into the truck. “Then you certainly don’t

      want that to rattle around in the back,” he smiled.

      Dean took my elbow to help me with the big step, tucking me into the truck and closing the

      door for me. The second he jumped in the other side, he cranked the engine and we were

      off. “Have you been to the country before?” he asked.

      “Not very much,” I admitted. “We camped a few times when I was little.”

      He nodded, turning down a smaller side road. “This is a pretty safe area,” he said. “You’ve

      missed black fly season, so you should be fine.”

      He must have caught my horrified glance. “You’ll be getting used to all sorts of bugs around

      here, Joanna,” he chuckled. “Most of them don’t bite though. Just those pesky black flies.”

      As Dean turned another corner, the golden fields switched to acres upon acres of greenery.

      “Wow,” I breathed. “It’s so beautiful out here.”

      I glanced over to see Dean giving me a strange smile. “It really is,” he said. “That’s

      something I’m not sure if you’ll get used to. I usually run deliveries to the city once a week, but it’s always a relief to get back out here.”

      I appreciated the way he didn’t pronounce ‘city’ like a dirty word. I’d known some people

      from the country who couldn’t stand the city, and vice versa. There should be room in a

      person’s mind for variety, as well as personal preference.

      The truck bounced a bit as he took another corner, causing me to gasp in surprise. Dean

     

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