September 30, 2019
TEAM PLAYER 2
ANTHOLOGY
Release Date: September 23rd
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Cover Designer: Letitia Hasser, RBA Designs
AVAILABLE NOW!!
FREE in Kindle Unlimited!
Blurb
Our love of hot jocks is never-ending.
Muscular football players. Passionate tennis pros. Sexy soccer stars. All sorts of alpha hotties, on the field and off.
Have no fear! The team is back again, and this time...it's thicker. You'll get your sports romance fix with brand-new stories from eleven bestselling authors.
Need one last summer fix? Dive into this anthology.
*This anthology contains original, never-before-seen stories by the following authors: Mandi Beck, Ella Fox, Teagan Hunter, Ilsa Madden-Mills, Sara Ney, Rochelle Paige, Meghan Quinn, Charleigh Rose, Kennedy Ryan, Emma Scott, and Kate Stewart. We still aren’t responsible for melted devices.
Stories Included
Arena Lights by Mandi Beck
End Goal by Ella Fox
A Slice of Love by Teagan Hunter
Dear Ava by Ilsa Madden-Mills
The Teaching Hours by Sara Ney
Body Heat by Rochelle Paige
The Strike Out by Meghan Quinn
Guys Like You by Charleigh Rose
Fast Break by Kennedy Ryan
Love Game by Emma Scott
Fair Catch by Kate Stewart
About Charleigh Rose
Charleigh Rose lives in Narnia with her husband and two young children. She's hopelessly devoted to unconventional love and pizza. When she isn't reading or mom-ing, she's writing moody, broody, swoony romance.
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About Ella Fox
USA Today Bestselling Author Ella Fox has learned a bunch of stuff along the way but the most important of all those things is that anything is possible when you try. In 2012 she took a big leap of faith and published her first book, Broken Hart. Since then she’s written fifteen more full-length books and several novellas– and every one is a reminder that you can live your dream as long as you work for it.
Ella’s favorite things are music, movies, traveling, The Foo Fighters and, of course, reading. This isn’t a surprise considering the fact that her mom is USA Today Bestselling Author Suzanne Halliday.
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About Emma Scott
Emma Scott is a bestselling author of emotional, character-driven romances in which art and love intertwine to heal, and in which love always wins. If you enjoy emotionally-charged stories that rip your heart out and put it back together again, with diverse characters and kind-hearted heroes, you will enjoy her novels.
RECENT RELEASES
A Five-Minute Life (standalone)
Bring Down the Stars (Beautiful Hearts #1)
Long Live the Beautiful Hearts (Beautiful Hearts #2)
COMING SOON
Someday, Someday (M/M standalone)
Connect w/Emma
About Ilsa Madden-Mills
Wall Street Journal, New York Times, and USA Today best-selling author Ilsa Madden-Mills is best known for her contemporary romances ranging from new adult angst to romantic sports comedy.
A former high school English teacher, she adores all things Pride and Prejudice, and of course, Mr. Darcy is her ultimate hero.
She's addicted to frothy coffee beverages, cheesy magnets, and any book featuring unicorns and sword-wielding females. Feel free to stalk her online.
Connect w/Ilsa
Join her online bookclub on FB today! https://www.facebook.com/groups/ilsasunicorngirls/
About Kate Stewart
A Texas native, Kate Stewart lives in North Carolina with her husband, Nick, and her naughty beagle, Sadie. She pens messy, sexy, angst-filled contemporary romance as well as romantic comedy and erotic suspense because it's what she loves as a reader. Kate is a lover of all things '80s and '90s, especially John Hughes films and rap. She dabbles a little in photography, can knit a simple stitch scarf for necessity, and on occasion, does very well at whiskey.
Contact Kate- Email-authorkatestewart@gmail.com
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About Kennedy Ryan
A RITA® Award Winner and Top 25 Amazon Bestseller, Kennedy Ryan writes for women from all walks of life, empowering them and placing them firmly at the center of each story and in charge of their own destinies. Her heroes respect, cherish and lose their minds for the women who capture their hearts.
She is a wife to her lifetime lover and mother to an extraordinary son. She has always leveraged her journalism background to write for charity and non-profit organizations, but enjoys writing to raise Autism awareness most. A contributor for Modern Mom Magazine, Kennedy’s writings have appeared in Chicken Soup for the Soul, USA Today and many others. The founder and executive director of a foundation serving Atlanta families living with Autism, she has appeared on Headline News, Montel Williams, NPR and other media outlets as an advocate for families living with autism.
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About Mandi Beck
Mandi Beck has been an avid reader all of her life. A deep love for books always had her jotting down little stories on napkins, notebooks, and her hand. As an adult she was further submerged into the book world through book clubs and the epicness of social media. It was then that she graduated to writing her stories on her phone and then finally on a proper computer.
A wife, mother to two rambunctious and somewhat rotten boys, and stepmom to two great girls away at college, she shares her time with her husband in Chicago where she was born and raised. Mandi is a diehard hockey fan and blames the Blackhawks when her deadlines are not met even though her favorite hockey player calls her…mom.
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About Meghan Quinn
USA Today Bestselling Author, wife, adoptive mother, and peanut butter lover. Author of romantic comedies and contemporary romance, Meghan Quinn brings readers the perfect combination of heart, humor, and heat in every book.
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About Rochelle Paige
I absolutely adore reading—always have and always will. When I was growing up, my friends used to tease me when I would trail after them, trying to read and walk at the same time. If I have downtime, odds are you will find me reading or writing.
I am the mother of two wonderful sons who have inspired me to chase my dream of being an author. I want them to learn from me that you can live your dream as long as you are willing to work for it.
When I told my mom that my new year's resolution was to self-publish a book in 2013, she pretty much told me, "About time!"
Connect w/ Rochelle
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About Sara Ney
Sara Ney is the USA Today Bestselling Author of the How to Date a Douchebag series, and is best known for her sexy, laugh-out-loud New Adult romances. Among her favorite vices, she includes: iced latte's, historical architecture and well-placed sarcasm. She lives in the Midwest, collects vintage books, art, loves flea markets, and fancies herself British.
For a list of cities/venues Sara will be signing at, or to purchase signed books, please visit her website at www.authorsaraney.com
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About Teagan Hunter
I’m a Missouri-raised gal, but currently live in North Carolina with my US Marine husband and 9-year-old dog. I spend my days begging him for a cat, and I survive off coffee, pizza, and sarcasm. When I'm not writing, you can find me binge-watching various TV shows, especially Supernatural and One Tree Hill. I like cold weather, buy more paperbacks than I'll ever read, and I never say no to brownies.
Writing is my passion, and this is just the beginning of my journey.
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September 30, 2019
The Guy In The Middle
By Kate Stewart
I started this anthology only planning to read a few of the stories but since I love sports romance I figured I would have a quick peek at the writing since Kate Stewart is a new to me author. And then I had finished it.
Turns out her writing is great. And now I have a new author to check out once I finish the rest of these stories but for right now I guess I should talk a little about the guy in the middle.
I went into the story completely blind and in honesty if I knew at the start it was going to end on a cliffhanger I have to wait until January 2020 to read i wouldn't have read it. My goldfish brain can't hang out that long between books.
I loved Harper and Lance. They had great stories and I wanted to know everything about them. And for a novella i did get plenty of background info and enough of a tease of the other characters to want me to check out the rest of the series.
The chemistry was perfect and I felt all the emotions along with Harper and Lance. I just really wish I could dive into the second half of the story now. Anyway I will finish crying and jump into the next story in the anthology.
This was a perfect length for a novella. Just long enough to get me invested in the story and characters, yet short enough to read on a sunny arvo by the pool. And the pacing was right on point too.
There was a bit of other woman drama but Benny cleared up any misunderstandings and miscommunication so quickly I really enjoyed it. Maeve was a little annoying but only because she reacted first and talked second.
But overall it was a really good novella that reminds me how much I enjoyed Mandi Beck's writing.
This was a more mature novel than I was expecting after the previous two stories. That's in no way a complaint since it was exactly what I love and expect from Rochelle Paige.
I loved that Sera was an absolute arse kicking heroine. And that Rowan wasn't just accepting of it but that he embraced it.
They were such a sweet couple together with hot as hell chemistry and even though it was a little insta I loved the natural progression of there relationship. And the touch of suspense had me intrigued.
Overall this was a great well paced novella and I have added the books from the secondary characters.
Omg I am loving this anthology but it's killing me TBR pile. During everyone of these novellas I've had to stop and trawl GoodReads to see if the books part of a series or if the secondary characters have books.
And this one is no different. Zack was just so great and I loved him for Halston. He wasn't all gushy but he didn't do the whole macho thing either.
I would have loved more closure for Halston with the ex, like idk maybe an eyeful of Zack or something but I'm a vengeful one and I did love the epilogue so I guess I should just smile and get back to the next one.
Kennedy Ryan has been on my must read asap list for so long. I live in a basketball obsessed house and sadly the passion for the sport has rubbed off on me so whenever I see new basketball romances I add them to the TBR. And the rave reviews this series has gotten just has me even more sold. I just never seem to find the right time / mood to commit.
Ean was so focused. I loved that he was so intrigued by everything he knew of her that he went out of his way to meet her. And that Quinn was so strong even while she was a little gun shy.
The epilogue was great and I really need to bump this series up my TBR again.
Ok so I liked it but I didn't love it. And honestly I think it's just the fact it was a novella and obviously there's not a lot of time to flesh out the details. So I feel like I missed out on Addison growing up and I needed that.
Law had made such a balls up at the beginning and then we jump to ten years later and Addison is still holding a grudge. And while 10 years older Law certainly made my ovaries whimper I still needed a hell of a lot of groveling and I really got none.
Now to be fair the story played out well and for a novella it was cute and to the point it just didn't have the elements I wanted to make me love it but that's probably just me.
So this is one of the main reasons I was dying to get my hands on this anthology. I love Sara Nye and I especially love this series. And what's even better than a random novella by Sara Ney? One that contains 2 secondary characters from some of the other books.
Rex was king of the douches. And I really love that become the "funcle" to Annabelle's beautiful baby girl made him into a semi decent human being. And seeing him be so sweet and slightly vulnerable for Hannah was awesome.
I love Hannah she's so fierce yet as the main character she was just your average insecure new adult trying to negotiate the dating world. These two were the perfect compliment to each other and I can't wait for the next Douchebag to be tamed.
No it cant just end like that. I feel so unresolved. I need more Franks and Jonas. And Julian just has to have his own book already. This was such a typical new adult college romance and I loved every word of it.
I started off all dreamy in lust with Jonas, then I was a little pissed but luckily dual POV meant I couldn't stay mad for long and everything came out perfectly in the wash. But that ending was abrupt and I want so much more.
I am really hoping there's a heap of books with Jonas' s mum and dad in them and his sister but most especially Julian. And I admit I feel a little guilty hoping Frankies dad will just die already but only a little.
I am off to obsessively look for other books by Teagan Hunter. Great another author to stalk and more books to add to my TBR.
This story was a little different for me. I am really not a tennis fan, like I feel bored and sleepy just thinking about it. And I know I shouldn't generalise but tennis players just don't do it for me.
I found Kai's attitude annoying and juvenile and I wanted to slap him for the way he acted. He did get slightly better but not enough for me to really warm up to him. Maybe if he had done something other than just not act like a huge dickhead I might have come around but idk.
I liked Daisy and I loved that she didn't take his shit but she deserved a whole lot more. This wasn't a bad read and I do generally like Emma Scott's writing but this one just didn't work for me.
Well atleast Meghan knows that she's an evil wench, I mean sure I may have used slightly stronger words but the general gist of it was the same. And Meghan, November is forever away so still horrible but maybe once I get the full story I'll forgive you.
Because seriously Holt is doing it for me in all the best ways. And I really am loving everything about Harmony. Not that there's any surprise there since I am addicted to these boys in the locker room and the dugout.
So I guess for now I will go off and make a calendar so I can mark off the data until my next Brentwood baseball player fix.
It's official Dear Ava was my favorite story in the book. Not a major surprise since Ilsa Madden mills could write toilet paper ads and have me hanging on her every word.
And I am incredibly excited to read the whole story in January. Because I can't get enough of Knox and Ava but also because I need to know how they get to the bottom of Ava's assault and how all the pieces are going to fit together.
Plus there's already a few secondary characters I love who I am hoping will be getting their own books or just more of them. This book had all the feels and I just know it will blow me away in January. But omg is it January yet?
September 29, 2019
I finished Until Joe and remembered I hadn't read book three in the wallflowers series. Don't even ask why not as I have no idea. I think it's because I had to wait and I had forgotten what had happened in the previous two so I just kept putting it off. But after I put down Until Joe I just needed more C.P. Smith so I jumped on Amazon and it was a KU title so I jumped right in.
So yeah that was my Sunday. Because once I picked it up I was completely immersed in all things wallflowers and their Neanderthal, alpha men. I don't know how I forgot how obsessed I was with this series but OMG I loved it.
Poppy was such a sweetheart and for everything she went through she was forged in fire. I loved how she brought everything back to book tropes and storylines. She was hilarious and sweet and everything about her made me love her.
But naturally I am in serious love with Nate aka Bodacious Bar Owner. He can throw me over his shoulder any day. Aside from the fact he is physically flawless, his jealous, protective care of Poppy was beautiful. I loved these two as a couple so much.
And even with all the tropes Poppy pointed out for us going on in this story I couldn't get enough. Everything worked so well together and was resolved so perfectly I couldn't be happier. I can't wait to see the next book in the series and see which of our wallflowers is having a highland wedding.
September 28, 2019
Calling all holiday romance lovers! A DASH OF CHRISTMAS by New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Samantha Chase is out now! Be sure to grab your copy of this enemies-to-lovers romance today!
About A DASH OF CHRISTMAS
With a dash of Christmas magic… Two people who have spent most of their lives being rivals… Learn a little something about following their hearts…
Carter Montgomery broke the family mold when he went to culinary school. Now a successful restauranteur, he’s at a crossroads: should he continue on his successful path or look for a new challenge? What he needs is time alone to think things through. But his matchmaking family has other ideas…
Emery Monaghan’s no-good fiancé has embroiled her in scandal and she needs a way out. When mentor Eliza Montgomery offers her a refuge, she’s relieved—until she realizes that the deal means rubbing elbows with Eliza’s son Carter—Emery’s childhood nemesis.
Get your copy of A DASH OF CHRISTMAS today!
About SAMANTHA CHASE
Samantha Chase is a New York Times and USA Today bestseller of contemporary romance. She released her debut novel in 2011 and currently has more than forty titles under her belt! When she’s not working on a new story, she spends her time reading romances, playing way too many games of Scrabble or Solitaire on Facebook, wearing a tiara while playing with her sassy pug Maylene…oh, and spending time with her husband of 25 years and their two sons in North Carolina.
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September 27, 2019
“How is this book both adorable and sexy? The Trouble with Christmas is a big city meets small town, opposite attract hilarious romance full of holiday shenanigans, family, love and sigh-worthy moments. It's one of the must-reads of 2019! I absolutely loved it!" --Naima Simone, USA Today bestselling author
The Trouble with Christmas, an all-new opposites attract romance from USA Today bestselling author Amy Andrews, is available now!
All Suzanne St. Michelle wants is an over-the-top, eggnog-induced holiday with her best friend in Credence, Colorado. But when her hoity-toity parents insist she come home for Christmas in New York, she blurts out that her sexy landlord is actually her boyfriend and she can’t leave him—Joshy loves Christmas. The more twinkle lights the better.
Rancher Joshua Grady does not love Christmas. Or company, or chatty women. Unfortunately for him, the chattiest woman ever has rented the cottage on his ranch, invited her rich, art-scene parents, and now insists he play “fake rancher boyfriend” in a production of the Hokiest Christmas Ever. And somehow…she gets him to agree.
Apparently, he’ll do anything to get his quiet life back. At least there’s mistletoe every two feet—and kissing Suzy is surprisingly easy. But in the midst of acres of tinsel, far too many tacky Christmas sweaters, and a tree that can be seen from space, he’s starting to want what he lost when he was a kid—a family. Too bad it’s with a woman heading back to New York before the ball drops…
Download your copy today!
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Excerpt
Grady barely felt the chill as he stripped off his freezing, sodden shirt in the equally freezing concrete shell of the mudroom. The silence was distracting. Too distracting, and he could think of little else. The last three mornings, he’d gone about his chores serenaded by chanting monks. Which was strange but…whatever. It didn’t bother him or the animals, and it gave his ranch hands something to laugh about.
Except now there was no music. And that was bothering him, because he suddenly realized he was thinking about her—something he’d been trying not to do. Had her power gone out? Was she sick? Had she fallen in the cottage and smacked her head on the stone floor? Had some kind of seizure? Was she unconscious? Had she decided to up and leave?
Yeah, right…he should be so lucky.
Grady shook his head, growling to himself as he flicked off the running faucet and plunged his hands into the steaming-hot sink of water, washing off the caked-on muck from his hands and arms and chest courtesy of a calf that had gotten itself bogged in a freezing quagmire caused by recent rain and melting almost-frozen ground.
He’d managed to rope it out with the help of two of his hands, its plaintive mooing and the distress of its mother keeping everyone focused on the job but somehow, when they were almost there, he’d managed to lose his balance and fall into the frigid mud.
His hands had laughed their asses off as they’d dragged his out of the muck.
The hot water felt good on his chilled skin as he picked up the cake of soap and lathered his arms and chest and neck. He needed a real shower, of course, but he’d learned a long time ago to wash up before he went inside. The plumbing in the mudroom was way more forgiving than the more delicate pipes inside the cabin.
Thankfully his jeans weren’t as mucky. Ordinarily he’d have stripped them off in the mudroom, too, and walked from the barn to the cabin in his underwear—isolated living did have its advantages—but he wasn’t about to do that with Suzanne St. Michelle nearby.
And great…just great. He was thinking about her again.
He obviously wasn’t getting laid enough. Just how long hadit been since he’d been with a woman? Well over a year ago. Probably closer to two. Because that had to be it, that had to be the reason he couldn’t stop thinking about the curvy New Yorker even though she’d stayed on her turf exactly as he had demanded.
Reaching with one hand for the fresh towel that hung over the hook above the sink, he pulled the plug with the other, then proceeded to towel dry. At least up until he heard a faint gasp and spun around to find the woman on his mind standing just inside the doorway, her curves hidden in a huge red coat, that green knitted cap pulled down low over her forehead and ears.
His hands paused mid drying the back of his neck. The room wasn’t big, maybe five feet by five feet, which meant she was way closer to him than he was comfortable with, given his state of undress.
“Oh…I’m…sorry.” Her breath misted into the frigid air as her voice faltered. “I didn’t know you were in here.”
Her eyes fell to his chest, zeroed in on the nickel-size scar just beneath his right collarbone courtesy of some shrapnel, before straying to his pecs and abs for what seemed like forever, the awkward silence stretching. Normally Grady wouldn’t bother filling it because silences were where he felt most comfortable and the other person generally rushed in to fill them up. But Suzanne wasn’t bothering, either.
At least not with her mouth anyway.
Her eyes were a different story. They were having an entire conversation as they roved all over his chest. She was looking at him like he was a slice of one of Annie’s pies, and Christ if that wasn’t like a bullet straight to his dick. The kind of friendly fire he could do without.
Fucking hell. He didn’t want to be pie. Not this woman’s. Not any woman’s. He wanted to be…tofu. Nobody lusted after tofu.
“Had some trouble with a calf.” Grady felt like an explanation might help the situation, but he still felt like an idiot making small talk.
“Was it being born?” She pulled her gaze from his abs to his eyes. “Did you have to stick your hand up inside and drag it out? I saw that on a documentary once and couldn’t believe how messy it was. And how calm the mother was. I mean, I’m not sure I’d be okay to just stand there while someone stuck their entire arm up my hoo-ha, right?”
She hesitated for a moment like she’d done the first day they’d met, like she wasn’t sure this was a topic for polite conversation. But her mouth had already committed, so she jutted her chin and went for it.
“I know it has to be done and, let’s face it, a calf is much bigger than a man’s arm—”
Her gaze dropped to his arms via the scar, his chest, and his belly button. She was looking at him like pie again. Annie’s pecan pie with melted butter. Sweet and savory all at once. An orgasm for the tongue.
Not tofu. Plain, tasteless, orgasmless Tofu.
“Even yours,” she continued, forcing her gaze back to his face, and it took Grady a moment to pick up the thread of her ramblings. She shuddered. “But no thank you. I mean, seriously, females of all species really do get a raw deal. I bet you if the males had to push out disproportionately bigger babies through the passage provided for the process, they’d have invented some kind of handy zipper system a long time ago. Some dude would have patented the bejesus out of it.”
She stopped abruptly, snapping her lips closed as if her mouth had finally received the frantic shut the fuck up messages from her brain. Her cheeks looked pink, but then so did her nose, so it was probably just the nippy December weather.
Grady stared at her, not only at the amount of words she’d spoken but at the content of her monologue. “We…” He spoke because it felt like his turn, but he didn’t even know what to do about cows with zippers. “We don’t calve in winter.”
“Oh, right.” She nodded briskly, her cheeks definitely growing pinker now. “That makes sense. Who wants to be cold and in pain, right?”
She gave a funny little half smile that ended quickly and awkwardly. Then they just stood and stared at each other for several beats longer than was normal or even comfortable, their warm breaths misting into the air.
Tucking her hands into the pockets of her red coat, she said, “I hope it’s okay to have a look around?”
Grady gave a brief, terse nod. “Just don’t go too far or go near the animals.” Last thing he needed was to rescue some damn fool city slicker who’d wandered off and gotten herself lost.
She nodded absently as her gaze drifted again, licking over his chest, lingering on the scar. He should be freezing, half-naked in a room that was little more than an icebox, but with her looking at him like she was trying to commit every line and chest hair to memory, he only felt hot.
Really fucking hot. Melted butter on pecan pie hot.
“I hope—” Her voice sounded a little uneven, and she cleared her throat. “I hope my music hasn’t been disturbing you the last few days.”
He wasn’t sure why she was making small talk—although it was preferable to incessant observations about cow hoo-has and zippers. Nor was he sure why he was standing ramrod straight in front of her, thinking about pie when he should be grabbing the spare shirt he kept in the cupboard above the washbasin and getting decent.
But up had been down since the moment she’d arrived.
“It’s fine,” he dismissed. It hadn’t been the music that had been disturbing him, that was for sure.
She nodded again, glancing around the room briefly before settling her eyes back on his chest. “Well…I guess I’ll…” She didn’t finish the sentence as her gaze once again zeroed in on the scar, and her lips rolled together in contemplation. “Do you mind—?” She stepped forward and raised her hand tentatively.
When he didn’t move because he was paralyzed by the realization she was actually going to touch him, she became bolder, stepping in closer again as her fingers made contact. She was so close now, he could smell her. Coffee and snickerdoodles? And something sharp, maybe chemical. Paint, he supposed.
“Is it a bullet wound?”
Grady flinched as she touched the scar, her fingers like icicles as they sunk into the small indentation. He closed his eyes as heat bloomed from the center, spreading like a ripple, burning like a furnace down the length of his body.
Blood pulsed hard and thick, everywhere. Damn it, she might as well be wrapping that cold hand around the throbbing hardness pressing into the zipper of his fly. It was probably forty degrees in this concrete box, but it felt like a sauna, and it was an easy 120 inside his boxers.
He swallowed. “It’s from…shrapnel.”
He had no idea why he wasn’t stepping back. He should step back. He should have said, Yes, I do mind, told her it was none of her business. He should be finding a shirt.
Find a fucking shirt, idiot.
“Did it hurt?”
Surprised by the question, he glanced down to find the bulky knit of her hat a whisker away from brushing the underside of his chin. “Like a bastard.”
She looked up and they were close—her mouth was close—her fingers a balm to the old wound that still made his shoulder ache on cold winter mornings. His heart thumped like a jungle drum and god almighty, it was hot enough in here to grow bananas.
“Was it bad? Did you bleed a lot?”
His throat was dry as the concrete beneath his feet. “It bled some.” Then, finally getting his shit together, he took a step back, and her hand slid away.
If his distancing bothered her, she didn’t show it, just simply said, “Thank you for your service.”
Grady didn’t know what to say. He never knew what to say to this standard platitude. He appreciated the sentiment, but he’d just been doing his job. So he nodded, his pulse reverberating like a dinner gong in his ears, as she slowly backed out of the room and disappeared from sight.
Reaching for the sink, Grady gripped the curved edge in both his hands and hunched over, dropping his head down between his shoulder blades and taking some deep steadying breaths.
January could not come soon enough.
Except now there was no music. And that was bothering him, because he suddenly realized he was thinking about her—something he’d been trying not to do. Had her power gone out? Was she sick? Had she fallen in the cottage and smacked her head on the stone floor? Had some kind of seizure? Was she unconscious? Had she decided to up and leave?
Yeah, right…he should be so lucky.
Grady shook his head, growling to himself as he flicked off the running faucet and plunged his hands into the steaming-hot sink of water, washing off the caked-on muck from his hands and arms and chest courtesy of a calf that had gotten itself bogged in a freezing quagmire caused by recent rain and melting almost-frozen ground.
He’d managed to rope it out with the help of two of his hands, its plaintive mooing and the distress of its mother keeping everyone focused on the job but somehow, when they were almost there, he’d managed to lose his balance and fall into the frigid mud.
His hands had laughed their asses off as they’d dragged his out of the muck.
The hot water felt good on his chilled skin as he picked up the cake of soap and lathered his arms and chest and neck. He needed a real shower, of course, but he’d learned a long time ago to wash up before he went inside. The plumbing in the mudroom was way more forgiving than the more delicate pipes inside the cabin.
Thankfully his jeans weren’t as mucky. Ordinarily he’d have stripped them off in the mudroom, too, and walked from the barn to the cabin in his underwear—isolated living did have its advantages—but he wasn’t about to do that with Suzanne St. Michelle nearby.
And great…just great. He was thinking about her again.
He obviously wasn’t getting laid enough. Just how long hadit been since he’d been with a woman? Well over a year ago. Probably closer to two. Because that had to be it, that had to be the reason he couldn’t stop thinking about the curvy New Yorker even though she’d stayed on her turf exactly as he had demanded.
Reaching with one hand for the fresh towel that hung over the hook above the sink, he pulled the plug with the other, then proceeded to towel dry. At least up until he heard a faint gasp and spun around to find the woman on his mind standing just inside the doorway, her curves hidden in a huge red coat, that green knitted cap pulled down low over her forehead and ears.
His hands paused mid drying the back of his neck. The room wasn’t big, maybe five feet by five feet, which meant she was way closer to him than he was comfortable with, given his state of undress.
“Oh…I’m…sorry.” Her breath misted into the frigid air as her voice faltered. “I didn’t know you were in here.”
Her eyes fell to his chest, zeroed in on the nickel-size scar just beneath his right collarbone courtesy of some shrapnel, before straying to his pecs and abs for what seemed like forever, the awkward silence stretching. Normally Grady wouldn’t bother filling it because silences were where he felt most comfortable and the other person generally rushed in to fill them up. But Suzanne wasn’t bothering, either.
At least not with her mouth anyway.
Her eyes were a different story. They were having an entire conversation as they roved all over his chest. She was looking at him like he was a slice of one of Annie’s pies, and Christ if that wasn’t like a bullet straight to his dick. The kind of friendly fire he could do without.
Fucking hell. He didn’t want to be pie. Not this woman’s. Not any woman’s. He wanted to be…tofu. Nobody lusted after tofu.
“Had some trouble with a calf.” Grady felt like an explanation might help the situation, but he still felt like an idiot making small talk.
“Was it being born?” She pulled her gaze from his abs to his eyes. “Did you have to stick your hand up inside and drag it out? I saw that on a documentary once and couldn’t believe how messy it was. And how calm the mother was. I mean, I’m not sure I’d be okay to just stand there while someone stuck their entire arm up my hoo-ha, right?”
She hesitated for a moment like she’d done the first day they’d met, like she wasn’t sure this was a topic for polite conversation. But her mouth had already committed, so she jutted her chin and went for it.
“I know it has to be done and, let’s face it, a calf is much bigger than a man’s arm—”
Her gaze dropped to his arms via the scar, his chest, and his belly button. She was looking at him like pie again. Annie’s pecan pie with melted butter. Sweet and savory all at once. An orgasm for the tongue.
Not tofu. Plain, tasteless, orgasmless Tofu.
“Even yours,” she continued, forcing her gaze back to his face, and it took Grady a moment to pick up the thread of her ramblings. She shuddered. “But no thank you. I mean, seriously, females of all species really do get a raw deal. I bet you if the males had to push out disproportionately bigger babies through the passage provided for the process, they’d have invented some kind of handy zipper system a long time ago. Some dude would have patented the bejesus out of it.”
She stopped abruptly, snapping her lips closed as if her mouth had finally received the frantic shut the fuck up messages from her brain. Her cheeks looked pink, but then so did her nose, so it was probably just the nippy December weather.
Grady stared at her, not only at the amount of words she’d spoken but at the content of her monologue. “We…” He spoke because it felt like his turn, but he didn’t even know what to do about cows with zippers. “We don’t calve in winter.”
“Oh, right.” She nodded briskly, her cheeks definitely growing pinker now. “That makes sense. Who wants to be cold and in pain, right?”
She gave a funny little half smile that ended quickly and awkwardly. Then they just stood and stared at each other for several beats longer than was normal or even comfortable, their warm breaths misting into the air.
Tucking her hands into the pockets of her red coat, she said, “I hope it’s okay to have a look around?”
Grady gave a brief, terse nod. “Just don’t go too far or go near the animals.” Last thing he needed was to rescue some damn fool city slicker who’d wandered off and gotten herself lost.
She nodded absently as her gaze drifted again, licking over his chest, lingering on the scar. He should be freezing, half-naked in a room that was little more than an icebox, but with her looking at him like she was trying to commit every line and chest hair to memory, he only felt hot.
Really fucking hot. Melted butter on pecan pie hot.
“I hope—” Her voice sounded a little uneven, and she cleared her throat. “I hope my music hasn’t been disturbing you the last few days.”
He wasn’t sure why she was making small talk—although it was preferable to incessant observations about cow hoo-has and zippers. Nor was he sure why he was standing ramrod straight in front of her, thinking about pie when he should be grabbing the spare shirt he kept in the cupboard above the washbasin and getting decent.
But up had been down since the moment she’d arrived.
“It’s fine,” he dismissed. It hadn’t been the music that had been disturbing him, that was for sure.
She nodded again, glancing around the room briefly before settling her eyes back on his chest. “Well…I guess I’ll…” She didn’t finish the sentence as her gaze once again zeroed in on the scar, and her lips rolled together in contemplation. “Do you mind—?” She stepped forward and raised her hand tentatively.
When he didn’t move because he was paralyzed by the realization she was actually going to touch him, she became bolder, stepping in closer again as her fingers made contact. She was so close now, he could smell her. Coffee and snickerdoodles? And something sharp, maybe chemical. Paint, he supposed.
“Is it a bullet wound?”
Grady flinched as she touched the scar, her fingers like icicles as they sunk into the small indentation. He closed his eyes as heat bloomed from the center, spreading like a ripple, burning like a furnace down the length of his body.
Blood pulsed hard and thick, everywhere. Damn it, she might as well be wrapping that cold hand around the throbbing hardness pressing into the zipper of his fly. It was probably forty degrees in this concrete box, but it felt like a sauna, and it was an easy 120 inside his boxers.
He swallowed. “It’s from…shrapnel.”
He had no idea why he wasn’t stepping back. He should step back. He should have said, Yes, I do mind, told her it was none of her business. He should be finding a shirt.
Find a fucking shirt, idiot.
“Did it hurt?”
Surprised by the question, he glanced down to find the bulky knit of her hat a whisker away from brushing the underside of his chin. “Like a bastard.”
She looked up and they were close—her mouth was close—her fingers a balm to the old wound that still made his shoulder ache on cold winter mornings. His heart thumped like a jungle drum and god almighty, it was hot enough in here to grow bananas.
“Was it bad? Did you bleed a lot?”
His throat was dry as the concrete beneath his feet. “It bled some.” Then, finally getting his shit together, he took a step back, and her hand slid away.
If his distancing bothered her, she didn’t show it, just simply said, “Thank you for your service.”
Grady didn’t know what to say. He never knew what to say to this standard platitude. He appreciated the sentiment, but he’d just been doing his job. So he nodded, his pulse reverberating like a dinner gong in his ears, as she slowly backed out of the room and disappeared from sight.
Reaching for the sink, Grady gripped the curved edge in both his hands and hunched over, dropping his head down between his shoulder blades and taking some deep steadying breaths.
January could not come soon enough.
About Amy Andrews
Amy is an Aussie author of hot contemporary romance who believes in multiple orgasms, mighty wangs and happily ever afters. She’s been penning them for over twenty years and has 70+ books to her name.
As well as unforgettable characters and great sex you’ll also be treated to some laughs and a dollop of quirk because Amy doesn’t seem to know how to write a book without a bit of both. You might also cry a little because there’s nothing she loves more than a laughy-criey book!
She also loves sunsets and rainbows, unicorns and mermaids, booze and travel. And her home that overlooks the ocean. She may also happen to believe she was a Roman goddess in her past life because its the only thing that explains her adoration for all things Italy.
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September 27, 2019
You might be wondering how you’ll know when your playboy ways are coming to an end. For some it might be an unexpected pregnancy (ahem… you know who), for others it might be finally landing the one woman you’ve always wanted (cough… I won’t mention any names). For me, it was the death of my mentor and the subsequent reading of their will.
The signs were there, they always are. But I didn’t notice them until it was too late, and my demise was complete.
Demise Sign #1– You find yourself thrust into the land of responsibility and you don’t immediately hightail it out of town.
Demise Sign #2– Despite being stuck with the world’s biggest Jekyll & Hyde, some sadistic part of you actually enjoys spending time with her.
Demise Sign #3– Your family suddenly stops wanting to weigh in on every decision in your life.
Demise Sign #4– Somehow you end up being the voice of reason in your tumultuous partnership.
Demise Sign #5 –You start thinking of other people before yourself.
Demise Sign #6– You agree to put yourself in the middle of an Alaskan reality TV show that has both of you sleeping in the same tent.
Piper Rayne, or Piper and Rayne, whichever you prefer because we’re not one author, we’re two. Yep, you get two USA Today Bestselling authors for the price of one. Our goal is to bring you romance stories that have "Heartwarming Humor With a Side of Sizzle" (okay...you caught us, that's our tagline). A little about us... We both have kindle’s full of one-clickable books. We're both married to husbands who drive us to drink. We're both chauffeurs to our kids. Most of all, we love hot heroes and quirky heroines that make us laugh, and we hope you do, too.
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