Blog Tour:Just Say Yes by Alyssa Goodnight

JustSayYesTour Just Say Yes by Alyssa Goodnight Publication Date: August 24, 2015 Genres: Contemporary, Romance
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Synopsis: Single mom Jade Moran isn’t ready for any big changes in either her horrible ’70s kitchen or her romantic life. Her ex did a number on her, and she isn’t interested in getting hurt again. But when she meets a super-hot contractor, she wonders if avocado appliances are on the way out and romance is on the way in.
Max Gianopoulis doesn’t have a clue why he’s so enchanted by Jade. She’s almost as big a mess as her kitchen, and he’s a guy who likes to keep things simple. He let himself get involved with a previous client, and he’s not interested in repeating the experience. But Jade has turned up the flirty heat—and he can’t keep his hands off her. With everything moving too fast and coming too easy, Jade’s insecurities kick into high gear. She’s not sure she can trust another man again—and she definitely doesn’t believe in magic.
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About Alyssa Goodnight

Alyssa Goodnight
Alyssa is a Texas girl who dreams of British accents. She currently lives between Houston and Galveston with her husband, two sons, and their adventure dogs, Indiana Jones and Short Round. She does her writing with an ice-cold can of Dr. Pepper, or when she's feeling spicy, a handful of Hot Tamales. She fangirls over Masterpiece Mystery, good Tex-Mex, and boxed chocolates. And, of course, books.

Finished with her coffee, she jiggled the cup and glanced at the trash can a few feet to her left. Looking back at him, she smiled, lifted a single eyebrow, and hooked it. It almost went in, instead rolling around on the rim. She shrugged then, saying, “I gave it a shot.”
“Is it your policy to give things a shot?” he asked, suddenly feeling as if the air around them was charged.
“Some things,” she allowed.
“What sort of things?”
“Things that seem like they might be worth the effort.”
“What about men?”
“What about them?” she asked, stilling, her eyes wary.
“Do you tend to give them a shot?”
“Not usually,” she said, shaking her head and pressing her lips together.
“But it’s possible.”
“Anything’s possible.” She wasn’t giving anything away, but Max dug in.
“Does your daughter’s approval weigh in at all?” He was grinning now—he couldn’t help himself.
“Maybe a little, but she’s thirteen. Our standards are different.”
“What, you don’t like ruggedly handsome men who carry Butterfingers and have a vampire connection?”
Her eyes widened with interest. “Ooh, yeah. Do you know any guys like that?”
“Very funny.”
She smiled at him, leaning back in her chair, and he smiled back.
They talked for another hour, only touching on her kitchen, and by the end, one of them—he wasn’t sure which—suggested that he should just come and look at it and they’d figure everything out then. They settled on Saturday, and he watched her walk away, imagining a short cape and tall boots.
He’d been attracted to plenty of women, but Jade fascinated him. The way she was confident in herself but shy with strangers, the way that shyness eventually warmed to sassiness, even, surprisingly, the fact that she was a single mom to a thirteen-year-old daughter. A hot, kick-ass mom. Honestly, he didn’t care if he was ready for that reality or not. He suddenly had a fierce desire to get this job—he was, in fact, desperate for her to give him a shot—and that didn’t bode well at all.
His willpower was but a vague memory now, easily vanquished by talk of cosplay and possibilities. As of right now, all bets were off.


Max reached into the bag and pulled out a piece of candy. Without asking for specifics, he popped it into his mouth. Jade stared, wondering what might happen next and how she would deal with whatever it might be.
“Ginger, right? That has a kick. Want one?”
She couldn’t resist the curiosity now pulsing through her. “Why not?”
She was looking at him when the ginger hit her tongue, and he was looking at her. He stepped closer, and she stepped back. Right up against the brick. She shuddered slightly as the spicy heat of the ginger slid down her throat on a wave of dark chocolate and offered him a shy smile.
He leaned in, his mouth inches away, and she had a wild urge to close the distance. That thought spun out of control as her imagination led her down a rabbit hole of seductive fantasies.
No, no, no…this can’t happen.
It didn’t matter how good he looked right now or how much she could stand to get laid, which was a lot. She needed to keep her distance.
She took a calming breath. To hell with the lust boosters. She had this.
“Are you still in a sharing mood?” he asked slowly, as if sensing the war raging through her hormones and wanting to give the rebellious side time to win her over. She could barely hear him over the roaring in her ears.
Opal’s words came back: it was just like wine. She hadn’t balked at drinking wine with him. But drinking wine with dinner didn’t hold quite the same significance as sharing magical candy and flirting in the dark.
She felt her resolve cracking and began to panic.
No good can come of this…
She repeated it like a mantra, but Jade could tell she was fighting a losing battle. While she was against this kiss on principle, her body was rooting for it in every other possible way. And she really didn’t want candy to be the enemy—that didn’t set a good precedent at all.
Slowly, she nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Turned out she was in a sharing mood.
Max flattened one hand against the wall above her shoulder and the other beside her waist, just close enough that his wrists skimmed against her. Both spots went tingly, and desire arced across her body. Her breath caught, and she reached out to steady herself, her hand skimming his chest. She knew it was going to be damn near impossible to walk away now and go home with nothing. A line had been crossed. A very sexy line.


Max grinned a self-satisfied sort of smile and without letting go of her hand, pulled two beers out of a cooler sitting behind him, stocked with ice. He hooked them one by one against the bottle opener mounted on its side and handed one to her.
She took this as an encouraging sign that things had progressed as far as they were going to for a while. Neither one of them had a free hand, so how much trouble could they get into? She shook her head, not wanting her brain to explore the possibilities.
But as the minutes passed with adrenaline pumping continuously through her veins, keeping her in a state of constant, edgy awareness, she came to an unexpected decision. There was a way to avoid all this angsty uncertainty. Okay, maybe “repressed lust” was the spot-on terminology.
She didn’t have to wait and wonder and, yes, kind of hope he eventually made a move. She could do it.
One kiss didn’t mean anything. Okay, one more kiss. The first one had been an anomaly—unexpected by both of them—and she’d survived it with no adverse effects. More or less. So, beyond being a huge tension reliever—she hoped—what was one more? Right now she was part consenting adult, part nervous wreck, and the combination was making her twitchy. She wouldn’t be able to relax until it was done.
Setting her beer in the grass, she closed her eyes, said a quick prayer to whoever might be the patron saint of awkward situations, and, in one semi-smooth move, leaned into him, fisted her free hand in his shirt, and tugged him toward her. Staring into his startled eyes, her breath caught, and she lost her nerve.
As the moment hung between them, the scent of popcorn and dark beer and spring grass crowding in, he didn’t move, waiting. Gathering her courage, she slowly dipped her mouth to his, feeling that first velvet touch, and then, quickly, the seductive slide of urgent lips and tangled tongues. Jade let out a breathy sigh, overwhelmed with relief to have finally reached this moment.
This time, there was no question of there being any food interference—no kitchen witchery. The fig jam surfaced in her memory, and she quashed it. Conditions weren’t met, directions weren’t followed, and results weren’t guaranteed.
This was just the two of them. Desire shuddered through her, and as his scruff rasped against her skin, she flexed her fingers against his shoulders, wanting more. Max nudged her onto his lap, her legs straddling his, and shifted his hand to her hip, where it sent fresh waves of urgency coursing through her. Her blood was thumping thickly through her veins, a steady, patient encouragement.
For several long minutes, they were consumed with the exploration of each other’s lips and tongues—everything else could wait. But eventually Jade pulled away, panting, and fumbled out of her sweatshirt before tugging his shirt away. For one truly decadent moment, she let herself just stare at him—at the sheer beauty of all those muscles finally uncovered. Then Max yanked the pillows from behind him, and she fell over him as he tipped back, eagerly pressing herself into the heat of his chest as the evening breeze skimmed over the bare skin of her arms and the spot where her T-shirt was inching accommodatingly up.
The movie had obviously reached a point where heroics were being scored with heart-pounding action music. Jade preferred to imagine the soundtrack was for her. It had taken some serious heroics to dredge up the gumption for this moment, and she had every intention of reveling in it.

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