Getaway Girl
by Tessa Bailey
Publisher: Self-published
Publication date: March 26, 2018
Genre: Romance
This unlikely getaway driver never expected to help the mayor escape…
After a six-year absence, Addison Potts is back in Charleston to stir things up. And what better place to make her villainous return than her estranged cousin’s wedding? Only, the nuptials hit a snag when the bride doesn’t show, leaving Addison to play getaway driver for the jilted groom. A groom whose heartbreaking smile and deep, southern drawl she should not be noticing…
Elijah Montgomery Du Pont is the future mayor of Charleston. From his military career to city hall, every detail of his life has been meticulously planned. Until now. His only respite from life’s sudden upheaval is Addison, his new, improbable best friend. She makes him happy. Grounds him. And public disapproval be damned, he’s not willing to give her up. But with an election on the line and public pressure rising, Addison—and the cruel hand of fate—might not give him a choice.
Sneak Peek…
When I woke up this morning, I didn’t plan on crashing a wedding.
But here I am.
In leather pants and a faded T-shirt, I didn’t even bother dressing up, which is drawing censorious raised eyebrows from the Charleston upper crust. There they are in their pressed pastels and bow ties, neatly divided into two sides of the aisle. Golden blondes on the left. Deep, rich brunettes to the right. Not a head of midnight-black hair among them.
None like mine.
Defiance rears back inside me and I toss that mane of inherited black hair now, letting it whip and settle around my shoulders. Perhaps it’s the move that causes an older woman in the back row to recognize me—finally. Or recognize my mother, rather. I’ve grown up a lot since leaving this town, and since I own a mirror, I’m aware of the resemblance.
Green eyes, resting bitch face, stubborn chin, indecent curves.
I’m a Potts girl, head to toe.
Looking as if she’s seen a ghost, the woman fingers her pearls and leans over to start a gossip wildfire, no doubt. My mouth curls into a pleased smile and I go back to observing the congregation. Everyone is seated and waiting for the bride to walk down the aisle, except for me. I’m standing in the far back corner, cloaked in shadows. Appropriate, considering my cousin, Naomi, is getting married this afternoon and no one in my family was invited.
What family? You’re the only one left now.
An invisible fist grinds into my chest and I push off the wall, intending to duck out for a breath of fresh air. No way I’m going to lose my composure in front of these people. Especially the blonde side of the room. When I turn to leave, however…that’s when I see him.
Once, during a hurricane, I made the mistake of leaving my apartment in Brooklyn for a gallon of milk. Cereal makes up ninety percent of my diet, so I was desperate and tired of eating fistfuls of dry Cheerios. I didn’t make it two steps out of the building when a hundred-mile-an-hour wind swept my feet out from under me, landing me on my back with a view of the dark thunderheads above. I still went and bought the milk, because I am a stubborn piece of work, but I remember that feeling of utter shock. The confirmation that forces more powerful than my iron will exist, just waiting to knock me on my butt.
That’s how I feel when I see the groom. Naomi’s groom.
My throat resists my attempts to swallow, coating itself in mud. Palms sweaty, pulse clamoring, knees buckling—yes, buckling—I fall back against the back wall of the church. I turn to find a full back row of blonde heads watching me and I lift my chin, commanding myself to pull it together. What in God’s name is wrong with me?
As if induced by magic, my gaze lifts to the groom once more. He’s not the cookie-cutter trust fund boy I was expecting. No, he’s…compelling. Hands clasped behind his back, he’s the authority in the room without moving a single muscle. He must be six foot five, based on the way he towers over the groomsmen, and the breadth of his muscular chest is somehow fierce. Braced and ready for action. He has a thick head of tobacco hair, face shaven but already battling a beard. His blatant masculinity isn’t what robs me of the ability to stand, though.
It’s his eyes. For all this man’s obvious power, they’re heartbreakingly kind.
About Tessa Bailey
Tessa Bailey is originally from Carlsbad, California. The day after high school graduation, she packed her yearbook, ripped jeans and laptop, driving cross-country to New York City in under four days.
Her most valuable life experiences were learned thereafter while waitressing at K-Dees, a Manhattan pub owned by her uncle. Inside those four walls, she met her husband, best friend and discovered the magic of classic rock, managing to put herself through Kingsborough Community College and the English program at Pace University at the same time. Several stunted attempts to enter the work force as a journalist followed, but romance writing continued to demand her attention.
She now lives in Long Island, New York with her husband of ten years and six-year-old daughter. Although she is severely sleep-deprived, she is incredibly happy to be living her dream of writing about people falling in love.
Ohhh! I like the sound of this one.
Karen @ For What It’s Worth
Oh it’s the first time I hear about this one. thanks for sharing
Oh thanks for the sneak peek!
Oooh I’ve liked the books I’ve tried from her, gotta check this one out!
That one sounds good and I enjoyed the excerpt.
I used to live in Charleston and can picture this! Hugs…RO