Ben wants to find a new home.
Twenty-four-year-old Ben McCormick is the primary caregiver for his brother Milo after their parent’s death. A year into the job, he’s totally got the hang of it. Mostly. Sort of. Not at all?
Defeated and thoroughly chastised for his lack in parenting skills at teacher-parent night, Ben slumps away with the resolve to finally get his life sorted: be a better role model, and sell their parent’s house for a fresh start.
But first, he needs to spruce up his house to hit the market. He’s no DIY king, but Milo’s hot-as-hell woodwork teacher is…
Jack wants an old home to fix.
Thirty-nine-year-old Jack Pecker is waiting for the home of his dreams to come on the market in the summer. What better way to wait the interim months than working on a small renovation gig?
Only trouble is, the gig is for the McCormick brothers. And working in close quarters to red-haired Ben McCormick won’t be easy. Not with the attraction that simmers between them. Attraction Ben makes no effort to hide.
But Jack’s professional. Dating a parent is highly discouraged at Kresley Intermediate, and he’d never cross the lines…
Ben and Jack. Two guys searching for a home – a home that might just be where their hearts lead them.
Set in New Zealand, Made For You (Love & Family #2) is an MM gay romance featuring two guys at very different places in their lives – but both finding out they are looking for the same thing.
Can be read as a standalone.
Exclusive Teaser Excerpt
Ben:
Where the hell is Block C?
I stall in the middle of a quiet quad, my stomach knotting, and unknotting, and knotting again. I’m already five minutes late, and I have no clue where I’m going. Like, I recognize half the buildings from when I went to Kresley Intermediate. The layout’s the same, but Block C? I didn’t even know there was a Block C.
Jesus, and it’s quiet. Have I got the wrong evening? Or have all the other parents arrived on time like responsible adults?
I breathe in a salty sea breeze and wish I were one of the seagulls circling overhead, that I could better find the block I’m meant to be in.
Mrs. Devon’s going to kick my ass. Unless she’s softened with age?
Maybe she’ll cut me some slack when I explain my car stalled up the hill and I had to drive in neutral—and terror—all the way here.
I can only hope.
What was my best bet? The longer block of brightly painted buildings? Or the shorter, taller block?
Looked like more lights were on in the taller block.
A path winds around a semi-cordoned off grassy-stretch, but I dash over the boggy grass. I’ll take every saved minute I can—
My foot skids through a slick patch, and I’m whipped onto my ass with a wet, heavy slap. I brace my hands against the cold ground, weeds and sludge slurping between my fingers.
With a shaky laugh, I push myself to my feet.
Some days sure are tests of fortitude.
“Shortcuts never end well.”
I whirl around. A dozen yards away, a male figure is casually leaning over a ramp leading to the craft rooms. The setting sun behind the building makes it difficult to see much.
I wipe the globs of mud from my good jeans. “You don’t say.”