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Packaged Love

Packaged Love

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ 408+ 5-Star Reviews

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Synopsis

Emma
All I wanted to do was make a simple package exchange, then the next thing I know Mr. Tall, Dark, Handsome and Jerk-Face is slamming me to the ground and threatening me with jail and other real pleasant experiences. Yep, my day certainly could be better.

Who knew a delivery guy’s screw-up could lead to finding “the one?”

Ethan Wescott instantly falls for the gorgeous, little thief he catches stealing his package. Once he realizes it’s all a misunderstanding, he’s left trying to convince Emma even a caveman jerk deserves the chance to redeem himself. He’s going to have his work cut out for him because so far, she isn’t too impressed.

This over-the-top quick read is just what you're looking for if you like instalove romance with a little bit of humor.

All I wanted to do was make a simple package exchange, then the next thing I know Mr. Tall, Dark, Handsome and Jerk-Face is slamming me to the ground and threatening me with jail and other real pleasant experiences. Yep, my day certainly could be better.

 

Chapter One Look Inside

"Yes, I know you need the party favors. I'm going to drop them off to you tomorrow." I roll my eyes and thank God Aunt Maureen can't see me through the phone. I drown out the rest of her yapping and try to get her off of the phone.
"As soon as I get the rest of the little babies to put in the bags, I will get them done." Whoever heard of putting ceramic babies in the gift bags? My aunt has no class at all. Sheesh.
"I have another call coming through. Love you. Bye." After hanging up, I shake my head and look at my dining room table while sighing. It looks like a baby store puked on it. Once the ceramic babies arrive, I can take all of this to Aunt Maureen and forget the "Baby Shower Nightmare."
Urgh, I hate waiting on this stupid package. Aunt Maureen will kill me if I miss it, and no one wants to deal with a pissed off Aunt Maureen. Ever since my cousin Chelsea announced her pregnancy, my aunt has been insane. I mean absolutely CRAZY. You would think Chels is giving birth to the next King of England the way my aunt is acting. Of course, my mom had to go and volunteer me to make the gift basket and party favors for Chelsea's shower. Way to go, Mom.
After today, I can make the rest of the party favors and get my aunt off of my back, if the package ever arrives. While waiting and scrolling through the available movies, I hear the box drop on my front step and run to grab it. To my absolute horror, it's not my box. The package is addressed to E. L. Wescott, 1216 Oak Lane Drive. I'm E. L. Wolcott, 1216 Oak Land Drive.
Oh my God! E. L. Wescott probably has my ceramic babies. After running to find my phone, I frantically look up Oak Land Drive in my maps app. To my surprise, it's only a few roads away, so I decide to take the wrong package and hopefully make a hostage exchange.
Oh, wow, a couple of roads makes a huge difference. After turning onto the quiet subdivision road, the beautifully manicured lawns and gorgeous modern homes are a pleasant surprise. When I arrive at 1216, I notice a box sitting in front of the impressive two-story house. I park and take the package hoping to make the trade.
A glance at the box by the door confirms my suspicion that my package was delivered here by mistake. Since I don't want to just switch and run, I ring the doorbell several times, but no one answers the door. I figure it's not stealing since I'm leaving their box and taking mine, so I exchange the two packages and head back for my car.
Two steps from my car, my body is slammed to the ground, and my box goes flying. I hear the sound of shattering babies, and my heart drops.
"You little fucker, I bet Bubba's gonna love your soft ass in jail. You shoulda stolen from some other sucker," is grunted in my ear as my head is shoved into the manicured grass.
"You broke my babies," I scream, and all of a sudden, the weight is lifted from me and startled brown eyes are frantically searching my face while the most gorgeous man I've ever seen runs his hands under my hoodie over my stomach.
"Oh my God. How far along are you?" He lays me gently back on the ground and runs his hands through his hair over and over again. "The police are on their way. I'll have them call an ambulance."
"Wait," I shout, realizing his misconception. "I'm not pregnant; you broke my ceramic babies."
After blinking several times, he sits heavily on the ground and stares at me. He opens his mouth to speak but stops and shakes his head.
Sirens blare in the distance, and finally, a cop car pulls into the driveway. The cop who emerges from the vehicle looks amazingly similar to my attacker. "Hey, man, your thief looks really dangerous."
"Fuck you." He isn't any friendlier with the cop.
"Ma'am, are you okay?" The policeman helps me to my feet. When my assailant growls, both of us turn to look at him.
"She had her fucking hood over her head. I thought she was robbing me," he grunts.
After pulling my hands away, I try to explain the situation. "We have similar names and addresses. His package was delivered to my house by accident, and my package was delivered here. I rang the doorbell, and no one answered so I switched them. He went all King Kong and attacked me and smashed my ceramic babies." I ramble on to the cop who looks between us with a smirk on his face.
When the cop signals with his hand for my attacker to give his side of the story, he says, "I was in the shower. By the time I got dressed, I saw someone walking away with my package, so I attacked."
"My package, jerk-face," I correct him.
"Look, I'm sorry…" he starts, but I interrupt.
"You explain that to Aunt Maureen. She's crazy." I put my hands on my hips and try to look as threatening as possible. Well, at five-foot-five, compared to his at least six-foot-five, I’m probably not too threatening.
"Okay, how about this? What if I take you to dinner to apologize and get your babies replaced overnight? Would that make you happy?" After walking over and grabbing my box, I fight to open it to check out the damage. There are five broken babies, but the rest are fine.
Luckily, I way overbought, and the five destroyed dolls don't matter.
"I don't need the five broken babies. Don't worry about it," I tell him, looking over my shoulder. There is no way I'm going on a pity date with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Jerk-Face.
"And dinner. When can I take you out?" He still insists on dinner.
"Just forget it. I need to get home and get this done for my aunt." I wave to the cop before moving away.
I try to leave, but my attacker grabs my arm. "I didn't get your name."
"Oh, I’m Emma.”
"Nice to meet you. I'm Ethan Wescott, and this is my brother, Derek Wescott." He points to the smirking officer.
After waving, I try to back toward my car, but the determined jerk keeps hold of my arm. "I won't take no for an answer. Let me take you to dinner," he persists.
"Okay, after I get past my cousin's shower, I'll call you," I agree, getting his number before I flee with my poor, abused, ceramic babies.

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