Naughty Pen Pals = Love
Genre: Contemporary Romance, Military Romance
Book Length (Est.): 249 Pages
As a dancer who creates mesmerizing visions onstage, Neve James is looking for the same kind of stability in her love life. Her pen pal, Rory McRoy, is on leave from deployment in Afghanistan, so she heads to Boston to surprise him. After corresponding for months as part of a “Support Our Troops” initiative—and exchanging dozens of “Read When You’re Alone” letters—Neve knows what Rory likes, and she intends to fulfill his every fantasy. But all they get are a few blissful moments together before they’re interrupted by a woman claiming to be Rory’s fiancée.
Rory has fallen hard for Neve’s letters. When he finally meets her in person, he has to have her, right then and there—until Neve takes off in a fit of anger. Forced to return to Afghanistan before he can fix things between them, Rory waits four agonizing months to prove that he’s not the man Neve thinks he is. But by the time he arrives in New York, she’s already made up her mind. Luckily, Rory never backs down from a challenge, and he’s prepared to put everything on the line for love.
*I received this book free from Tasty Book Tours in exchange for an honest review*
Neve James is a dancer that has dreams of becoming the next big thing. Trying to become a better person she starts to make some changes in her life. In her down time she is a pen pal for “Support Our Troops”. Enjoying the conversations that she has with her pen pal things start to get a little more intense when she surprises him when he is home on leave. Under the miscommunication she thinks that Rory is engaged and decides to leave him in her past.
Rory McRoy fell hard for Neve during his deployment. The “read when you are alone” letters got him through some tough times. Having her surprise him was a wish come true. When things turn south for him and Neve runs away he will stop at nothing to explain the situation and get her back.
Neve gets really sick from trying to help her little brother, so sick that it puts her entire life on hold. Rory wants to stay and help as much as he can. With Neve not really having any other help she has no choice but to accept the help. The more time they spend together the more they realize all they really need is each other.
This is the second book in the Loving You series. All I Need Is You can actually be read as a stand alone. The book started off really strong and I loved the letters back and forth to each other. As the story went on I felt myself losing interest but then something would come along and drag me back into the story. I didn’t really feel the instant chemistry between the characters. Rory sometimes didn’t sympathize with Neve when he should have. Now that I finished the book I understand that they needed to go through the difficult times with each other to get to where they wanted to be.
My Favorite Moment: I have to say that my favorite moment is when Neve showed up in Boston to surprise Rory. The storeroom will never be the same.
*Clicking on the book cover above will take you to the Amazon purchase page.
Today, like yesterday, and the day before that, Neve Jaimes thought dying would be easier than living. Mostly because she didn’t do sick very well.
“Damn this flu.” Damn feeling so weak and dizzy every time she tried to sit up. But she’d done it, had even managed to remain upright long enough to put on her bathrobe. Now, for the next challenge, she slid her bare feet into the slippers beside her bed, used her arms to push off, and stood with the ease of a severely arthritic 109-year-old. Everything hurt. Ten miserable days with no end in sight. “Enough already.” She needed to get well. Needed soup, which was why she’d forced herself out of bed.
With Mom and Dad away and her best friend, Brooke, now living hours from New York, there’d be no homemade chicken soup deliciousness in her immediate future.
Takeout from the deli down the street would have to do.
In the kitchen Neve steadied herself against the counter long enough to pick out a spoon, then plopped into a chair, exhausted from expending the minuscule amount of energy required to travel a few dozen feet, thankful her one-bedroom condo was small and all on one level.
When someone knocked at the door she opened her eyes and lifted her head from where it rested on her folded arms on top of the table, but made no move toward the door, partly because she felt too dizzy to stand right at that moment, but mostly because her brother, Nate, the bringer of the soup, had a key.
She met the second, louder knock with a groan. Honestly, what the hell was the purpose of giving your overprotective big brother a key to your condo—which he had annoyed and harassed you for until you begrudgingly gave it to him—if he didn’t use that key for emergencies? Which this was, on account of Neve not being able to remember the last time anything other than ginger ale or warm tea had passed her lips. With her body completely depleted of nutrients, she needed sustenance to fight off the virus running rampant through her system.
Once the dizziness faded, Neve stood. “Pain in my ass.” And everywhere else, for that matter. Hunched over and clutching her old purple robe closed in front of her, she shuffled to the door and opened it. The whoosh of refreshingly cold November air felt good on her fevered skin. But the bright midday sun shot like spears into both eyes, blinding her. “Jeez.” She slapped a hand over her face, a little harder than intended, sending a throb of pain through her skull. “Owwwww. Did you bring the ibuprofen?
Shit. That didn’t sound like Nate. Positioning her hand like a visor, she squinted at her unwanted visitor, to find five feet, seven inches of sexy, way too good-looking male dressed in tan boots and matching light green camouflage pants, jacket, and bucket hat. Well, triple shit. It’d been four months since she’d met him in person for the first and only time, when she’d learned he wasn’t the good guy she’d thought him to be during their eight months as pen pals. This man who she’d confided in, who knew more about her life than her best friend and her brother, turned out to be a liar, and she wanted nothing to do with him.
“Go away, Rory.” She turned and reached out to slam the door in his face. In one quick motion, he stopped it. Most people would consider Rory average height for a guy, but he was much taller than Neve, who stood a tiny bit over five feet. And with his big, defined muscles, he had her beat in the strength department, too.
“What’s wrong, Neve? You look like crap.”
Probably smelled like crap, too, since she hadn’t bathed or changed her pajamas in . . . too many days. And you know what? She could care less. “Why, thank you for those kind words, you sweet-talker. You really know how to make a girl feel beautiful.” She tugged at the door again. It didn’t budge. “Now move your hand. I don’t have the strength to fight with you today.”
“Even if you did, I’d be ready for you this time.”
She did not appreciate the amusement in his voice. A few months ago she’d taken him, a U.S. Army soldier, down to the ground and incapacitated him, with surprisingly little effort, and they both knew it. “You promised not to come looking for me if I didn’t want to be found. If I recall correctly, you wrote, ‘But I swear on the life of Father McGinty, my priest back home, that when I’m stateside I’m not the man I need to be when I’m here, that I would never hurt you, or come looking for you if you didn’t want to be found.’”
Shifting so the sun wasn’t shining directly into her eyes, she gave him her very best glare. “And well, whaddya know? You did hurt me”—not physically and she’d never willingly admit how much—“and here you are. Again! There’s a reason I used a PO box, a reason I never gave you my home address. Because I didn’t want to be found! Maybe next time you should think twice before swearing on the life of your priest, because you, Rory McRoy, are a damn liar.”
That mini-tirade zapped what little strength Neve had, and she fell back against the door, trying to catch her breath, praying her legs would hold her up for a few more minutes.
He stepped toward her. Too close. “Let me—”
“No.” Neve tried to yank her arm out of his hold, her weakened state making the attempt totally ineffective, embarrassing even.
A deep, familiar, very welcome voice bellowed, “Get your hand off of my sister.”
Thank goodness. Help had arrived in the form of her six-foot-tall, big and strong police officer brother, in full uniform—which meant he had his gun. “Shoot him.” Of course he wouldn’t, but saying it felt good.
Cool, calm, and collected, Rory remained on track. “We need to talk, Neve.”
“No, we don’t.” This time when she pulled away he let her.
“Are you pregnant?” Rory asked, loud enough for Nate to hear.
Nate yelled, “Why the hell does he think you’re pregnant?” as he came within arm’s reach of Rory. Close enough to strangle him, which might just come in handy.
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