A laugh-out-loud, spicy action-adventure romance where Type-A computer nerd Bo goes on an unlikely trip to Belize to win back his ex. When he hires impulsive, strong-willed jungle guide Alexandra, the two end up on a rollicking journey where their sizzling chemistry may be more adventure than the wilderness.
Intrigued? Well read on to discover the synopsis and an excerpt from M.C. Vaughan’s Romancing Miss Stone, which is out June 25th 2024!
By-the-numbers Bo Ferguson has his future all planned. Then his archaeologist fiancée dumps him. Via text. From Belize. Navigating the rainforest to win her back is way out of Bo’s comfort zone, but so is the idea of starting over. Fortunately, he’s secured a tour guide willing to lead him into the unmapped jungle. Unfortunately, she’s annoying, impulsive—and attractive as hell.
Jungle expert Alexandra Stone is in no position to turn down a job after her regrettable ex stole everything from her family business and ran. Sure, Bo might be frustratingly uptight, but Alex needs the money. And besides, there’s something…fun about pushing the guy’s adorably rigid buttons, especially when it clearly gets a rise out of him.
But the close confines of their shared camp make it hard to ignore the tension beneath the bickering, prompting the sweltering heat between them to erupt into sweaty, wild passion. Bo can’t deny his brief time with Alex has been the most exciting of his life. But the journey they’re on still leads to one place—his ex-fiancée—forcing Bo and Alex to confront their pasts, their fears and the question of just where this adventure will take them…
As the inky dark settled among the trees, he cracked his window. A symphony of insects was warming up for the night. Okay then. Sleeping among bugs and wild animals. Not what he had on his list of things to do in Belize, but he had to trust Alex.
Easier said than done.
Maybe she was telling him what he wanted to hear, like when he was a kid and his parents fought but promised they’d stay together. So he preferred to deep dive into topics with independent research and tried to predict future behavior. If he intellectualized the thing that spiked his anxiety, he staved off twisty, insidious, unhappy emotions.
But that wasn’t an option in the middle of a forest.
Given Alex’s reaction to his curiosity earlier today, she’d probably feed him to an ocelot if he asked more questions. Tonight, he’d have to sit with ignorant discomfort.
“Poisonous frogs aside, the hammock sounds like a better option than the jeep. I’ve got back problems, too.”
“That’s the spirit. And don’t worry about the frogs.” She crunched into her apple. “They’re bright red and easy to spot. They usually hop away because they like us less than we like them.”
He rubbed his hands down his thighs. “That’s not a consolation. Looks like it’s down to a drizzle out there. Want me to start the campfire? I brought a kit.”
“Of course you did.” She playfully bumped his shoulder. “Yes to us starting a campfire. You dig the fire hole while I gather wood.”
She opened her door and rooted under the driver’s seat.
“You keep wood under there?” he asked.
“No. Here.” She thrust a sheathed blade and a headlamp toward him, then slipped a headlamp over her damp hair. “A machete makes the digging easier. You’ll want it to be about four and a half meters—fifteen feet—from the tent.”
“Thanks.” Of course she had a machete. There was probably a bullwhip in here, too.
While Alex hunted for kindling and wood, he unearthed the rod and wick fire starter set from his box of supplies. With his cap pulled tight over his head, he paced off fifteen feet from the tent, then jabbed at the carpet of pine needles with the machete. The earth below the pine straw was spongy. Within minutes, he scooped a decent crater.
“S’cuse me.” Alex dropped a pile of thick branches on the ground near him. “I need the big guy to split the wood.”
He dusted his hands together. “I’ve never chopped wood, but I’ll give it a shot.”
She laughed. “Oh, sorry—the big guy is what I call my hatchet. It’s in Betty. But if you want, I can start calling you big guy, too.”
Thankfully, the dark hid the heat rising in his cheeks. The light from her headlamp bounced over the ground as she returned to the jeep. That was definitely flirting. Wasn’t it? He was so out of practice, he couldn’t tell.
The jeep’s door shut again, and she was back with a hatchet. “Can you find rocks to border the edge of the pit while I chop?”
“Sure,” he answered.
Decent sized rocks studded the ground. As he dug them out with the machete, the satisfying thunk of splitting wood filled the air. They worked in companionable silence until Alex whittled down the pile.
“Okay, this should get us started.” She laid kindling in the hollow. “The wood’s pretty moist. If your thingamajig doesn’t work, I’ll get the gas can.”
Bo really wanted this to work. He was grateful for Alex’s expertise but he’d like to bring something to the table.
Besides apples.
“Here goes nothing.” He fed the wax-coated wick through the bore below the ferro rod, then frayed the edge like they did in the instructional video. Next, he scraped the ferro with the striker, firm and controlled, and produced a glob of sparks that caught the wick on fire. He held the flaming wick to the wood. The kindling smoked and sizzled, then caught.
“Nice. I might have to get one of those,” Alex said.
He flushed with pride, then blew out the wick.
“Do you go camping a lot?” she asked.
“No, but I read the manuals.”
“Wish I could learn like that. I’m more of a try-and-fail kind of girl. Once I get the hang of something, though, I’m an expert for life.”
“And I wish I could learn like that. Leap without looking.”
“Oh, I look. But I leap even if it’s scary.” She bumped his shoulder again.
The simple affectionate gesture made him happier than it should.
As full dark shrouded the forest, the fire’s warm crackle lulled them into silence.
Alex stifled a yawn. “Today kicked my ass. There’s not much to do now that the sun’s gone down. Stay up if you want, but I’m settling in for the night.”
Linger alone, like a tasty ocelot snack?
No thanks.
“I’ll turn in, too.”
As they unzipped their respective sides, he swallowed hard. This was not a big deal. They were two people, stuck in a situation together. Like a sleepover.
Yeah, good job lying to yourself, Ferguson.
“Keep your shoes on,” Alex said. “If you take them off and leave them out here, you’ll definitely wake up with an unwelcome guest.”
She parked herself inside the tent, then zipped herself in. Shadows swallowed her as she switched off her headlamp and shoved it into the nylon pocket point near her head.
“In or out, Bo? You don’t want to let bugs inside.”
The hammock flexed and swayed under his ass. He much preferred the steady firmness of a mattress, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.
“It’s more comfortable if you lay diagonally,” she said. “It spreads out the pressure.”
He shifted, scooting his shoulders in the opposite direction of his feet, and… She was right. The material cradled him. Alex wiggled on her side, which bounced him a bit. Would the whole night be like that? Him aware of every move she made?
Sweet torture.
“This is surprisingly nice.” He twisted toward her, and whoa, she was right there.
“Argh! That’s in my eyes!” She squeezed her eyes shut as she laughed, then fumbled at his lamp.
She missed and ended up smoothing her palm down his cheek. Her touch scorched him, left an indelible mark that made him suck in his breath.
“Sorry.” He wrenched the lamp from his head and flicked off the light. “Better?”
“Much.” There was a smile in her voice.
“Didn’t mean to blind you. Speaking of…” He plucked his glasses from his face. “Is there somewhere I can stash stuff?”
“Yeah, there are pockets in the stretched out corners.”
“Thanks.” He tucked his glasses inside. Without them, the world took on a pleasantly obscured fuzz.
“God I love sleeping outside,” she sighed. “Don’t you?”
“I’ve never done it before.”
“Ooh, so I’m your first?”
Laughter sprang from this woman as easy as sunshine, and he enjoyed the hell out of her levity. More than he should.
“That was another joke, by the way.”
“If you have to point that out, was it funny?”
She hmphed, and he folded his arms behind his head.
The darkness created a confessional feel. Rain pattered against the tarp, and strange forest sounds erupted around them. Neither drowned out the calm rise and fall of his tentmate’s breathing. When he woke this morning he never would’ve dreamed that he’d be horizontal next to Alex Stone, her lips within kissing distance.
More sweet torture.
Sleep was the only escape hatch.
“Well, good night,” he said.
“Not so fast, Bo Ferguson.”
