"Where He Belongs is a thrilling ride well deserving of the 2004
Golden Heart."
–-Lysa Demorest, Writers Unlimited
"Gail Barrett's debut novel taps right into many of the emotions and feelings
we've all experienced. Where He Belongs proves that opposites
don't always attract, that sometimes those with similar experiences and feelings
can fall in love and be all the stronger for it."
-–Once Upon a Romance
“Ms. Barrett has a gift for weaving a fine story and this debut effort speaks
to the talent that she has.”
--Contemporary Romance Writers
"A lovely story of romance leading a man to his history."
--Sharon Harbaugh, Munchkin Books
"...extremely angsty...compelling...a quick, excellent read." (Rated
four crescents, the highest rating)
--Jen Foote, Crescent Blues
"...a touching and beautifully written debut romance...a sheer delight...highly
recommended!"
--Debora Hosey, The Romance Reader’s Connection (FOUR HEARTS)
"...one of those stories that captures your attention from the beginning
and keeps you captivated until the very last word. A charming yet sensual story...a
book you definitely won’t want to miss."
--Jennifer Ray, The Road to Romance
“Ms. Barrett shines with this warm, fantastic story featuring a sympathetic
hero and heroine in a joint struggle to come to terms with their past and forge
a new future.”
--Angie Sarge, Affaire de Coeur (Five stars!)
As an unpublished novel, WHERE HE BELONGS won first place in the
First Impressions contest sponsored by the Tampa Area Romance Authors, was a finalist
for the Marlene (Washington Romance Writers), the Laurie (Smoky Mountain Romance
Writers), and the Spring into Romance contest (San Diego RWA).
Once published, WHERE HE BELONGS won the Affaire De Coeur Magazine’s
Reader/Writer Poll for best contemporary, the Published Laurie Readers and Booksellers
Contest for best contemporary, was a finalist in the New Jersey Golden Leaf contest
for Best First Book, and received an Honorable Mention in the Aspen Gold Contest
(sponsored by the Heart of Denver Romance Writers). It also won second place in
the Write Touch Readers’ Award (Wisconsin RWA), was a finalist for the Gayle
Wilson Award of Excellence (Southern Magic Romance Writers), and won both the
Long Contemporary category and Overall Best Book in the 2006 Book
Buyers’ Best contest.
"But how will you make the payments?" Wade asked her. "You're dead broke as
it is."
Good question. "I can tutor more students."
"The hell you can. You're already exhausted."
"I'm fine. Things aren't as dire as you think." They were worse. Far worse.
The sick churning in her stomach grew.
Wade's sharp gaze pinned hers. Silence stretched between them and Erin nibbled
her lower lip. She hated lying, especially to Wade. But she couldn't risk telling
the truth.
"Lottie looked upset this afternoon," he said slowly.
Her pulse hitched. "I'm sure she was. Norm's death hit us hard."
"She seemed relieved that I was here."
Uneasiness seeped through her belly. "Lottie tends to overreact. I wouldn't
pay any attention."
He leaned back, his gaze still riveting hers, and crossed his muscled arms.
His black T-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders. For several seconds, he
didn't speak.
"You remember when I threw that snowball at the school and broke the window?"
he finally asked.
She blinked at the change of topic. "Sure, in the fifth grade."
"And you swore to Mr. Patton that I didn't do it."
"I said I didn't see you do it, which was technically true since I'd bent
down to tie my shoe."
His eyes narrowed. "And then there was that time in, what was it, seventh
grade? When you insisted I hadn't pulled the fire alarm?"
"You would have been suspended."
"I didn't care."
"Well, I did." She frowned. "So what's your point? That I lie a lot?"
"No, just the opposite. You're way too honest. So it's easy to tell when you're
lying."
"Oh?"
"Yeah." He leaned forward. His gaze drilled into hers. "Every time you lie,
you bite your bottom lip."
She snapped her mouth closed. The blasted man knew her too well. She rose
and walked to the sink.
Wade's chair scraped back and suddenly he loomed beside her, his dark eyes
far too astute. "So, you care to add anything to that list?"
"There's nothing else to add." She moved to the stove to check the timer.
"How about the truth?"
"I already gave it to you." Her stomach knotting, she grabbed the hot pads
and opened the oven. She pulled out her chocolate chip cookies and transferred
them to the cooling rack, carefully avoiding his eyes.
Praying he'd let the subject drop, she refilled the cookie sheet, then braved
a glance in his direction. He leaned against the counter, his arms crossed. Frustration
brewed in his eyes.
"Look," he said. "I'm not the enemy here. I'm only trying to help you."
"I know." And she was protecting him.
"You might as well tell me the truth. I'm not going to let this go."
She knew that, too. But he couldn't force her to talk. "Don't eat too many
of these cookies," she warned. "They're for the Fire and Rescue bake sale."
"Hell." Scowling ominously now, he braced his hands on his hips. "That's another
thing that bugs me. You work too hard around here. From what I heard at that reception
today, you volunteer for everything."
"So?" She slid the cookie sheet into the oven and reset the timer.
"So you're exhausted. You're thin and pale, and you've got circles under your
eyes."
"I'll survive." She set the hot pads on the counter. "Besides, I like doing
my part in the community."
"Yours and everyone else's."
"I don't do that much."
"No? Let's see what you're doing this month." He held up his hand to count.
"First there's the high school Bonanza and this bake sale for the Rescue Squad.
Then there's the Thanksgiving food drive, the Christmas toy drive, some fund-raiser
for the battered women's shelter--"
"Okay, fine. So I do too much. But I can't let everyone down."
"Why not? I didn't hear anyone at that reception offering to help you back."
"Because they need me. And I'd feel terrible saying no." An edgy, panicked
feeling crept through her gut, but she firmly pushed it aside. She didn't need
to turn anyone down. She could handle these projects fine.
"And I don't care if they help me or not," she added. "I'm not keeping score."
"Well, maybe you should start." His heated gaze held hers. "When do you have
time for fun?"
"Fun?"
"Yeah, fun. You know, after you've worked and volunteered, and taken care
of your grandmother?"
She shrugged.
"You do remember what fun is?"
Oh, yes. Her gaze dropped to his mouth. Kissing Wade had been fun.
Thrilling.
And she would love to do it again. She licked her lips, then swallowed hard.
She dragged her gaze back to his. His brown eyes narrowed and darkened. Tension
rolled off his body. And he stood perfectly still.
Her pulse leaped with an answering hunger. She wanted to kiss him again, to
feel that excitement, that heat rushing through her. That wild desire sizzling
her blood.
Somehow, he'd moved closer. Much closer. Her heart hammered when his breath
fanned her face. "Was kissing me fun?" he asked, his voice low.
A thrill ran through her. She tried to speak, but failed.
He reached out and cupped her neck, sliding his rough, warm hand down her
skin. She shivered at the sparks coursing through her.
His eyes were hard now, dangerous, and she couldn't look away. He grasped
her arms and urged her closer. Her heart rioted in her chest.
"Tell me, Erin," he rasped again. "Just how much fun was it?"
She parted her lips, but nothing came out. She dropped her gaze to his mouth,
then lifted it helplessly back to his eyes. She felt his intensity, his heat.
Her knees grew suddenly weak.
And then he lowered his head and his lips covered hers, hard and warm and
seeking. With a moan, she wrapped her arms around his strong neck and surrendered
to her desire.
Lord, how she'd ached for this man. She'd longed for him, yearned for him.
She'd wanted to touch him and stroke him forever.
She caressed the rough, sexy stubble of his jaw and threaded her hand through
his hair. She explored the hard width of his shoulders, marveling at his raw strength.
His tongue stroked her lips, demanding acceptance. She opened gladly, welcoming
the sensual invasion. He made a low, deep sound in his throat and sharp pleasure
shocked her to her toes.
And she tried to get even closer. She tightened her hold on his neck. His
hands roamed her back, her buttocks, sending shivers of pleasure shooting through
her. He lifted her slightly and pressed her against his arousal. Heat coiled between
her legs, desire so fierce that she moaned.
She wanted him to touch her. Desperately. All over her naked body. To yank
off their clothes and absorb him into her skin.
To relive, for one blissful moment, that ecstasy she'd known years ago.
But without warning, he lifted his head. Bereft, she opened her eyes. Her
heart thundered. Her head spun. Their breathing rasped loud in the silence.
His gaze burned into hers, almost angry in its intensity. "This doesn't solve
a damn thing," he said. He pulled her arms from his neck and stepped back.
Suddenly dizzy, she clutched the counter for balance. Her mind blank, her
body throbbing, she watched him cross the kitchen.
At the doorway, he stopped, turned and nailed her with his gaze. "And when
we make love," he said, his voice raw, "it's going to be a hell of a lot more
than just fun."
2004 Golden Heart Winner
