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    Beauty and the Butch
    Beauty and the Butch
    Beauty and the Butch
    Ebook83 pages1 hour

    Beauty and the Butch

    By Paisley Smith

    2.5/5

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    About this ebook

    The last thing up-and-coming TV producer Lindsey Mitchell expects to find at an ultra-girly beauty pageant is true love. After all, she’s unapologetically butch and that’s unlikely to appeal to the primped-and-powdered Southern belles vying for the title of Miss Georgia National.

    Ella Northington is the perfectly poised contestant who’s hiding a big secret—she’s a lesbian. But Lindsey’s just too tempting to resist and what’s supposed to be a one-night stand quickly turns into something more. The lovers are determined to touch and taste every inch of each other.

    But the stakes are high and competition is fierce. And if Ella is outed, she risks losing everything she holds dear, including her sexy butch lover.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherPaisley Smith
    Release dateFeb 3, 2017
    ISBN9781386847625
    Beauty and the Butch

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    Reviews for Beauty and the Butch

    2.5/5

    2 ratings1 review

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    • 4/5
      This had a lot more substance than I thought it would.

      Paisley Smith does a nice job of quickly establishing believable intimacy between strangers and then managed to spin the narrative into the beginnings of a sweet romance. And, though very different, both characters are also sympathetic and likable.

      Nicely done and an enjoyable, steamy novella.

    Book preview

    Beauty and the Butch - Paisley Smith

    Beauty and the Butch

    Paisley Smith

    The last thing up-and-coming TV producer Lindsey Mitchell expects to find at an ultra-girly beauty pageant is true love. After all, she’s unapologetically butch and that’s unlikely to appeal to the primped-and-powdered Southern belles vying for the title of Miss Georgia National.

    Ella Northington is the perfectly poised contestant who’s hiding a big secret—she’s a lesbian. But Lindsey’s just too tempting to resist and what’s supposed to be a one-night stand quickly turns into something more. The lovers are determined to touch and taste every inch of each other.

    But the stakes are high and competition is fierce. And if Ella is outed, she risks losing everything she holds dear, including her sexy butch lover.

    BEAUTY AND THE BUTCH

    Paisley Smith

    Chapter One

    Lindsey Mitchell hefted the heavy camera onto her shoulder as she and assistant producer Maurice Vega strode into the hotel where the Miss Georgia National beauty pageant was being held.

    We’re late, Lindsey said, bursting through the side door to enter the event center.

    Laboring for breath, Maurice waddled quickly behind her, dragging a hand truck loaded with booms and microphones in his wake. Sweat beaded on his forehead, but his hands were so full he couldn’t have mopped his brow if he’d wanted to. His layered tees and plaid flannel overshirt barely reached the top of well-worn jeans that looked as if they might give up the fight and plummet to his ankles any minute.

    Lindsey shook her head. Why’d you wear all those shirts? She held the door as he twisted sideways to slide through. You look like Ignatius J. Reilly.

    Maurice’s size indicated he’d seriously missed an opportunity to be a linebacker for a pro football team, but Lindsey knew his temperament tended toward the opposite end of the spectrum. Maurice was a big teddy bear who enjoyed heated games of Dungeons & Dragons and reading superhero comic books rather than hard hits in a sports arena or God forbid, spring training exercises.

    He stopped briefly and heaved several great breaths. I think I have a couple of Big Chief tablets in the car, he said, referencing Ignatius, the hero of A Confederacy of Dunces, which they both regularly quoted. But you’re hardly my Myrna Minkoff.

    Lindsey chuckled and raked her fingers through her spiky black hair. Once Maurice had wedged through the door, she let it go and they walked down the hallway toward the information desk.

    Black and silver festoons draped over a backdrop of glitter-frosted pink decorated the walls and the tables. Wow, they really went all-out for this shindig, didn’t they? She leaned closer to Maurice. I wonder where they keep the Barbie Corvette.

    Maurice’s eyes twinkled behind his black-rimmed glasses. I don’t know, but I wouldn’t mind going for a ride in it.

    Lindsey scoffed. Don’t let their big smiles fool you. There’s nothing between the ears of those women.

    "I don’t care what’s between their ears. And don’t underestimate the power of the Vega. He waved his hand over and around his camera with the flare of a game show model. We’ve got a built-in aphrodisiac."

    An entourage flocked around one contestant, making last-minute adjustments to her frothy white gown. Lindsey’s gaze flicked back to Maurice. Yes, and the thought of getting on TV is the only way we could get any of these gals to pay attention to either of us.

    Maurice chortled. You can’t honestly tell me you wouldn’t sample these Georgia peaches if given half a chance.

    Lindsey sneered. Not my type.

    The kind that’s got legs and a head is my type, Maurice said, craning to watch a brunette beauty in a royal-blue dress float by. He turned back and waggled his black eyebrows at Lindsey. Not even that one?

    Lindsey looked back at the ultra-feminine pageant queen. Girls like that don’t notice girls like me. They’re looking for MRS degrees, minivans, picket fences and two point five kids.

    They pay plenty of attention to me, Maurice joked. In my shower.

    Eww! Lindsey said and punched his arm playfully. I don’t need to know about your solitary pursuits.

    Seriously, though, he said. I’ve known you going on six months and I don’t know what your type is yet.

    Lindsey shrugged. Somebody with a little—strike that, a lot—more substance than a girl who’d parade around on a stage in a bikini and stilettos.

    A woman shot up from the information table, skirted it and started toward them. You must be from The Learning Network.

    Lindsey grasped the obvious former beauty queen’s hand and shook it vigorously. Lindsey Mitchell. This is Maurice Vega.

    The woman flashed a well-honed wide and brilliant smile. I’m Elizabeth Huntingdon, the Miss Georgia National pageant director. I understand you’ll be filming this week.

    Lindsey nodded. Yes.

    I have the names of the three contestants the network asked us to choose for you to follow, Elizabeth said and reached for an envelope on the table where stylish women continued to line up for registration.

    Lindsey avoided looking at them. In this sea of leggy women, she felt even shorter than her average height and dumpy in a pair of faded jeans and green Converse tennis shoes. Although she’d never much aspired to having long, luxurious locks and a blindingly bright smile, she recognized what most people considered beautiful. She’d never admit it to Maurice because he’d tease her to no end, but yeah —these women were fucking gorgeous.

    Long legs that stretched for miles. Soft hair that smelled like perfume. Blossoming cleavage and bodies with curves so rife with femininity they made Lindsey’s mouth water.

    She knew better than to shop where the price was too high.

    Throughout high school, she’d always been a tomboy with short hair and no-fuss clothes, the kind of girl dodge ball fanatics foamed at the mouth to get on their team. Nobody had really questioned

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