Love is the last thing on Justin’s mind. Sure, he’s noticed the big, shy guy who comes in for his coffee every morning, but Justin doesn’t have time to indulge in a crush. After his last disastrous breakup, he needs to get his head out of the clouds and focus on climbing out of debt with his pile of part-time jobs. The singing telegram gig is the most embarrassing by far, but at least no one will ever recognize him in his ridiculous costumes. It’s temporary, just through the Valentine season.
Adam is in love. He just needs to drum up the nerve to do something about it. A daily smile from the cute guy behind the coffee counter is the bright spot in his day, keeping him going through the work week in an office filled with jerks. Especially when one of the jerks starts sending him romantic telegrams as a joke. There’s nothing he hates more than public humiliation. If he ever finds out who’s behind it, heads will roll.
Love songs, lies, and an absurd amount of glitter pave the way to a romance neither of them expected. Adam is everything Justin’s ever dreamed of, but he can never discover Justin’s terrible, fuzzy, off-key secret.
This Valentine’s Day, Cupid doesn’t miss, even if he has terrible timing.
The stares started in the parking garage and only got worse as he entered the lobby.
This latest assignment brought him to one of the four high-rise buildings that defined downtown Belleview, the biggest one, some financial firm. It stood out against the mountain landscape like alien architecture that had dropped from the sky, dark and shining and bleak beside the trees and mountains jagged with life.
Ignoring the gobsmacked expressions on the receptionists’ faces, he approached the front desk. “Hi, how you doing? I’m here to make a special delivery on the sixteenth floor.”
The older of the two receptionists shushed the other’s giggling as she dutifully tapped away at her computer. “Name?”
Out of habit, Justin almost glanced at a name badge he was no longer wearing. Instead, he passed along the crumpled order form in his sweaty gloved fist. “I represent Season’s Greetings, with a telegram delivery for Adam Hubert.”
She perked up immediately, taking in his work uniform with a slowly spreading grin. “Adam Hubert, up in IT? Oh, honey, wish I was coming with you. That’s gonna be a sight to see.”
Nothing in her words or her delivery inspired confidence. Oh well, some gigs were more difficult than others. Not everyone appreciated a personalized singing telegram. Justin had already run the gamut of reactions from delight to disgust, and now, he just wanted to get each assignment done so he could move on to the next. “Can you direct me to his office?”
“Says right there on your paper. Floor 16, room 319. I promise you’ll know him when you see him; he stands out around here. Not as much as you in that getup, but he’s never exactly blended in either. Big hulking guy, always wears a frown, nobody can get a smile out of him. Folks up on his floor call him ‘Lurch.’” She added that final aside in a stage whisper with a conspiratorial air that rubbed Justin the wrong way.
He retrieved his order form and stuffed it in his pocket. “That doesn’t seem like a very nice name to call somebody.”
“He’s not very popular. Alright, here’s your badge.” She slapped a little barcode sticker on his furry chest with uncalled-for glee. “That should let you in the right doors. Tell Charlene up in reception to call me when you get there. I wanna listen in.”
He left with a half-hearted wave, his boss’s ancient boom box weighing heavily in his hand. “Thanks.”
This book has all the corn syrupy feels you would expect from a Valentine’s Day novella. Justin and Adam together have that OTT cute & funny thing going on and the meet-cute between the two & the sweet interactions once they start actually talking to each other is just the bestest. There was plenty of awww moments and a quite a few chuckles before the end.
Being a novella, it does’t take long to get to the conflict and their happily ever after but I liked them so much I really wish we’d gotten more. I wanted to know more about why Adam feels the way he does about himself, how he is with his coworkers and others besides Justin. And I wanted more of Justin finally getting a good relationship and getting himself back on his feet. And I really wished I’d gotten a bit of a better conclusion to the “secret admirer”. I guess there’s always some of that with a novella but can we make this into a longer book, please?
But I think the fact that even with all those wants I still finished it with a smile shows that Thomas does a really good job of creating those characters and moving them through well to that HEA ending.
*****
Author Info:
A.C. Thomas left the glamorous world of teaching preschool for the even more glamorous world of staying home with her toddler. Between the diaper changes and tea parties, she escapes into fantastical worlds, reading every romance available and even writing a few herself.
She devours books of every flavor—science fiction, historical, fantasy—but always with a touch of romance because she believes there is nothing more fantastical than the transformative power of love.
The first book in the sexy new bodyguard series set in the Package Deal World.
The Rockstar
Portland Protectors- EHM Security Series, Book 1
by Emerson Beckett & Rheland Richmond
Blurb:
Adam Spencer – “The Rockstar”
Here’s what I know — some people aren’t meant to find love.
And as much as I want to be someone’s everything, that’s not meant for me.
After a painful breakup, I channeled all my hurt into a song that has skyrocketed my band, Fallen Angel, to the top of the charts.
Now I need protection from the one person who was supposed to love me no matter what—my mother.
Whether I want him or not, I now have a sexy, silver-tongued southern charmer as my 24/7 bodyguard.
I’ve tried not to fall for him, because I don’t do relationships. They hurt too much.
But Michael has me thinking I could take one more chance to find love.
Or was I meant to be alone like I thought all along?
Michael Coleman – “Phantom”
I’ve always been a protector. During my career as a Navy SEAL, my duty was to protect my four best friends.
Now I need to protect the sexy rock star I love flirting with every time he walks in the door to our EHM office.
Adam Spencer lights me up like no one ever has. And that’s saying something.
I’ll do whatever it takes to protect him, even from himself.
Have I finally found the love I’ve been hoping for with the Rockstar?
The Rockstaris a flirty, friends-to-lovers, bodyguard and rockstar MM Romance that takes place in the Package Deal SeriesWorld. It can be read as a stand-alone book.
Trigger Warning: There is off the page reference to physical abuse to a minor. Off the page domestic violence and death of a mentioned character.
I pulled up to the window and handed the smiling girl my card. “Here ya go, darlin’.”
Adam went to retrieve his wallet, but I waved him off. “Business expense.”
I watched as she gathered our food and put it in the bag.
“Would you like one of our loyalty cards? You can get a free item if you come back enough,” she asked, smiling at me.
“Why yes, please,” I replied, returning her smile.
I watched as she added napkins to the bag before handing it to me. I then handed it to Adam, who sat there with his head cocked to one side, looking at me.
I smirked and turned my attention back to the girl in the window.
“Here you go,” she said with a wink as she handed me my credit card. “Come back and see us again.”
I smiled at her. “Thank you.”
Pulling away from the window, I put my credit card back in my wallet, then placed the loyalty card with her name and phone number on the back onto the dash. When I closed it, I could see he hadn’t moved and was watching me like a bug under a microscope.
I chuckled. “What?”
“Do you flirt with everyone?”
“What do you mean? She was flirting with me.”
Adam laughed. “You started it!”
“I did no such thing,” I said, pulling out of the drive thru. “She started it, and I didn’t want to embarrass her by not playing along.”
Adam’s high-pitched strangled noise drew my attention. “You called her ‘darlin’’ like you’re a cowboy on the range wrangling cows or something.” He was mimicking me, and it made me smile.
Now it was my turn to laugh. “I did, but I’m telling you—she started it.”
“How?” he asked incredulously. I imagine if he could put his hands on his hips, he would have.
I guess I had to share this with him. “She gave me the smile.”
Adam shifted to look at me. “What smile? I really think you’re imagining things.”
“No, I’m not. She smiled that smile with her eyes, like a girl does when she wants you to ask her out. You know what I mean.”
He barked out a laugh. “No, the fuck I don’t. I’m gay.”
“But you’re a rockstar. Girls have to hit on you.”
He snorted. “Yeah, they do. But I’m usually paying more attention to their boyfriends.”
I laughed at his response and shook my head.
Damn, this was going to be fun.
*****
Review:
I loved this book. Then again, I also loved pretty much everything about the Package Deal series so I’m not surprised. These two deliver enjoyable HEAs time and time again.
Adam has some abandonment and self-worth issues left over from his childhood and he’s feeling raw from the end of his last relationship. Having given up on love, he’s content getting ready for his tour and having fun flirting with a certain ex-SEAL.
Michael is demiromantic and hasn’t really experienced that deeper connection with anyone before. While he enjoys teasing Adam, this time it seems a little different. When there’s a threat to Adam his protective side comes out and it doesn’t take long to realize that it definitely means something more.
Adam and Michael’s interactions are all in fun at first but then quickly develop into a romantic connection. Michael is so patient with Adam as he deals with his trauma from being abused and abandoned by his mother. Michael’s unwavering support helps Adam realize that he is worthy of love & commitment. It’s endearing and low angst and very satisfying.
The stalker/blackmailer story line isn’t as huge a part of the story as the romance, which surprised (and dismayed) some. But it does work to get these two together and to give Michael an excuse to find Adam’s father. Which is all sorts of heart-warming and helps to put some of Adam’s ghosts to rest.
Cole & Patrick’s relationship has a pretty decent side story here too, which makes sense as they are both very important parts of Adam’s life and they’ve all been close for decades. It also heavily sets up the next book, which some found a little too much for this story.
(Speaking of which – Rheland! Emerson! Why did you have to tease us so much with Cole and Patrick? And seriously that preview for the next book! Readers, don’t read it unless you want to be anxiously waiting for The Linebacker which doesn’t release for another 2 months! I’ll be sitting on pins and needles until March. *sigh*)
Emotional, funny, and sweet, The Rockstar is a gratifying start to a new series. Both characters are likeable, they are entertaining together, and watching their relationship develop into something more made me so happy.
(At first, I thought this one could stand on its own but after reading some of the other reviews I think maybe it CAN but probably shouldn’t. There are a lot of characters from the Package Deal world who are either mentioned or make an appearance. And while they don’t play a direct role here I know that it can be confusing and annoying when you don’t know who they are. But then again those books are good reads so you can’t go wrong starting there are ending here 🙂 )
*****
Author Info:
Rheland Richmond
For as long as she can remember, Rheland’s had her nose stuck in a book, getting lost in the world of someone else’s creation (She still does). Her love for writing came from her love for reading. She could never have one without the other.
Writing has always been a hobby and a cathartic experience for her. There are many stories lost to the never to be completed or published pile but needed to be written at the time.
She’s just a girl that loved stories so much she decided to write hers.
Rheland would love to hear from her readers and learn more about y’all. So if you get a chance… Get in touch.
Emerson Beckett is new to the publishing world. As an avid sports fan and lover of well-written M/M romance books, Emerson loves her new career as an author of gay romance. It’s even more fulfilling for her when she can combine the two.
The journey to becoming an author started with an idea while reading on the sofa. That idea became an email that ultimately resulted in Emerson using those teacher skills to edit novels for three phenomenal MM romance authors. The third referral led to an opportunity to co-write a book series with one of the most genuine and kindest people she’s ever had the pleasure of knowing- Rheland Richmond. Emerson is the co-author of The Package Deal Series, which includes The Quarterback Keeper, Pass Interference,Unnecessary Roughness, Two-Point Conversion, Illegal Motion, Ineligible Receiver, and one more upcoming book in the series. She plans to release her first solo book in 2023.
Besides being a retired teacher and author, Emerson lives in North Carolina and has been married to the same man for 32 years. She is the mother of three beautiful adults, one of whom is proudly part of the LGBTQ Community and completely responsible for her addiction to MM Romance. Even though the kids no longer live at home, they filled the empty nest with an Australian Shepherd, three cats, and a cute bunny rabbit.
Emerson would love to hear from her readers. So if you get a chance… Get in touch.
Jedidiah Stephens came to the Colorado Rockies for one reason: to uncover the truth behind the fire that killed her family. She’s been chasing down clues, and everything has led her to an isolated campground. Her plan is to get a job there so she can investigate who comes and goes. Getting involved with her boss, Memphis Osborn, the ruggedly handsome groundskeeper, is definitely not part of the plan.
When Jedidiah arrives on the scene, Memphis just knows she’s up to something. He can see the desperation in her eyes and warily agrees to hire her. As they work side by side, Diah triggers his deepest protective instincts—and the chemistry between them ignites.
But the more Diah digs into her family’s past, the more secrets she unravels…and the more afraid she becomes. She lost everything once before. She’ll never forgive herself if now she loses Memphis, too.
“Count on Lori Foster for sexy, edgy romance.” —Jayne Ann Krentz, New York Times bestselling author
For early April, the Colorado weather was unseasonably warm. Probably in the low sixties with enough sunshine to make it feel warmer. Jedidiah Stephens, who went by Diah for short, loosely held Tuff’s leash in the only available finger she had. Loaded down with supplies, she made her way along the rutted, occasionally muddy road leading to the budget campground.
Hard to call the miserable path an entry, though. Surely the guy who’d bought the place planned to fix it up a little before he opened in mid-May. If not, she’d see what she could do about it. At the very least, the potholes needed to be filled and everything regraveled. Otherwise, anyone pulling a camper was in for a really bumpy ride, possible damage to the undercarriage of their travel trailer, and there was a good chance they’d get stuck.
Checking the time on her phone, she saw that she was thirty minutes early. Hey, it wasn’t easy to be timely when she relied on others for her transportation. Good thing she’d found a nice woman who’d let her, her number-one guy, Tuff, and her luggage hitch a ride in the back of her pickup. Talk about getting jostled, and now she was more windblown than ever.
Not that she cared. This was the chance she needed to solve the mystery, rid herself of nagging questions and finally get on with a new, better life. Free.
Oh, how she wanted to be free.
She couldn’t change the past or stop the occasional nightmare; she understood that. But by God, she could put an end to running, and in the process forge a new future.
If she let it, excitement and even a little nervousness would take over. Ruthlessly, she tamped down those two disagreeable emotions. The owner’s brother had sent her here, so her early arrival shouldn’t be a big deal. Supposedly, she was a shoo-in for the job.
“Can’t be too much farther,” she said to Tuff, who looked up at her with a frown of concern. For real, her dog was a world-class worrier, but this time Diah had to agree with him. It was starting to feel creepy. The long road in, lined by tall aspens and pines, was plenty isolated. Other than the sounds of critters in the trees, the area was dead silent.
Don’t be such a chickenshit… You gotta toughen up… Jesus, you’re a scaredy-cat.
She’d heard those comments too many times to count. Worse than hearing them?
Knowing they were true.
To the right of her, something rustled in the underbrush—and effectively stalled her breathing. Tuff went alert, staring in that direction, then dismissed it. Almost immediately to her left, a flock of birds took flight, stripping a year off her life. Tuff sidled closer.
Automatically, she sought to reassure him, and in the process reassure herself as well because Tuff’s nervousness always became her own, and vice versa.
Putting a hand on his neck, appreciating the contact with another living creature, she gently rubbed. “Yeah, maybe I should have asked that lady to drive us right up to the campground, huh? I hadn’t figured on it being such a hike, though. His street sign should give a damn clue, right?”
Tuff looked forward and perked his ears.
“Squirrel?” she asked, because she could handle a critter. “Rabbit?” But no. She heard it now, too. Singing. And there up ahead, finally, the winding road opened to a clearing, with a small parking lot on the right and a wooden shed that served as a gatehouse and check-in station on the left. Right now the shed was empty, but it had been recently painted and looked big enough to accommodate a few people. Nearest the road was a drive-through window, so visitors wouldn’t have to get out to check in for their stay.
Thank God they’d finally reached the campgrounds. With a duffel bag hanging from one shoulder, her packed tent slung over the other, and a suitcase in her hand, her shoulders were killing her. The soft suitcase was a roller, but not on this pitted, bumpy path.
Seriously, she wished she were stronger. Wished she were braver, too.
Sometimes she wished she were someone else entirely.
As Tuff strained against the leash, he almost got away from her. Quickly readjusting her free hand, not just a few fingers, Diah said, “Quiet,” in her low command voice, and although Tuff’s furry lips rippled, he didn’t make a sound. Such a smart boy. So many times over the past two grueling years, she’d given thanks that Tuff had come into her life. He was her best friend, her protector and pretty much the only reason she ever smiled. “We’ll sort of sneak in, okay?”
A muffled, “Fft,” was Tuff’s reply. And yup, she grinned.
When she got to the check-in, Diah unloaded her belongings beside it. Looking around, she took in several small cabins that appeared newly repaired. Some trees had been trimmed, RV and tent lots were mostly cleared, but overall the grounds were a work in progress.
Straight ahead, not too far from the entry, a larger cabin—which by no means made it large—appeared to be the source of the singing. She heard, “Love me, love me, saaaay that you love me,” in a high falsetto and couldn’t help but laugh.
“Oh, man, Tuff, do you hear that?”
“Lovefool” by The Cardigans. If she hadn’t heard it in a bar during karaoke night, she’d have no idea. The drunken chick who’d sung it then hadn’t done as good of a job as this guy. He really belted it out with gusto.
Snickering, she said to Tuff, “No time like the present,” and led him along to the cabin, around to the side and there… Ho boy.
Naked.
Using an outside shower.
Forget the warmth of the sunshine. It was freaking April in Colorado.
Thank God a concrete block half wall kept her from seeing him in all his glory, but holy moly, what he showed was enough to keep her gawking. Dude had seriously hot, muscular shoulders and flat abs… Heck, she could see the tops of his hip bones, too. It was a mighty fine display, one she hadn’t been prepared for.
Tuff sat down, maybe mesmerized. Diah’s legs were suddenly shaky enough that she wouldn’t mind sitting, too.
Lounge back and watch the show? Would’ve been nice.
Unfortunately, she was a human adult, not a dog, so she had to announce herself. She tried loudly clearing her throat, followed by a sharp “Ahem.”
Nothing.
Face turned up, he sang out another verse while rinsing shampoo from dark brown hair a few inches too long. When was the last time she’d seen anyone built like him, all firm, ropy muscles on a tall frame?
Yeah, that’d be never.
Not once in her twenty-four years had she ever encountered any guy, anywhere, who looked like this one.
Shameful to admit, but she eyeballed him a little longer before saying again, louder this time, “Ahem.”
Pausing in midverse, he cocked open one dark blue eye, framed by spiked lashes. He spotted her and at his leisure, without a hint of haste—or modesty—pushed back his wet hair and got both eyes open.
Intently watching her now, no longer singing, he…continued his shower.
What. The. Hell.
A big soapy hand went over his throat, the back of his neck, across his chest and beneath one arm.
He was so damn attractive, her heart ping-ponged around in her chest. Since he didn’t speak, she assumed she’d have to. “Hi, I’m, um…” Who was she? Oh, yeah. “Jedidiah Stephens. Appointment at three.”
Turning his back to the water, not at all put off by being caught in the buff outside, his gaze moved over her body, but quickly came back to her eyes. “I don’t have any appointments.”
She went blank for a moment before the obvious answer came to her. “Oh, hey, I’m sorry for disturbing you.” Belatedly remembering that people were usually put off by her intent stare, she turned to give him privacy. But yeah, she wasn’t comfortable with anyone at her back so she shifted again, facing to the side. If he tried to leave the shower to approach her she’d catch him in her peripheral vision, but at least her gaze wasn’t directly on him. “I’m looking for Memphis Osborn.”
“He’s busy showering.”
Confusion hit her. “You’re both showering?” How… Why…? Thoughts of mud wrestling or some other sexy activity flashed through her mind. Two sweaty guys. Muscles straining…
Sucked that she’d missed it.
A gruff, short laugh came from him and he said, “You’re not seeing the big picture. I’m Memphis, I’m showering and I don’t have any appointments.”
Chagrin brought her around so that she fully faced him again. Yup, still gloriously naked. How could she not stare? “You own this place?”
Beside her, Tuff stirred. The poor dog was as tired as she was and no doubt ready to bed down somewhere for a nap.
“Guilty. As you can see, I haven’t opened yet.”
“I know the place isn’t open.” She resisted adding “Duh.” As if explaining to a little kid, she spoke slowly. “I have an appointment about a job.”
His gaze dipped over her bare legs, making her wish she’d worn jeans instead of shorts. Yeah, if only she’d had a chance to do laundry, but it wasn’t always possible on the road. His attention lingered for a mere heartbeat before returning to her face…and roaming over her every feature as if figuring out who—or what—she was. Rude!
Because she’d ogled him, too, she couldn’t really get huffy about it… The hell she couldn’t! She was fully dressed, not prancing around outside bare-assed. “Take a picture, why doncha?”
“You wouldn’t mind?” He reached for the cell phone he’d left on the top of the half wall near a folded towel. As he lifted the phone, the music that came from it abruptly died.
The sudden quiet was jarring.
He pretended to take aim.
Belatedly, she found her voice, which erupted with irritation. “Look, I was told to be here and that you’d hire me.”
“Sight unseen?” Shaking his head to deny that, he set the phone aside, turned off the water and reached for the towel—which he only slung around his neck. “I don’t think so.”
Swear to God, she could see steam rising off those impressive shoulders. Her palms tingled at the idea of touching him, maybe coasting her fingers over the swells of muscle. “Aren’t you freezing?”
“Little bit.”
Yet, he didn’t dry off. “Is there a reason you’re showering out here instead of inside somewhere?”
“Yeah.”
She waited, but he didn’t elaborate. Fine, she could play this game. “Wanna share?”
Amusement tugged at one corner of his very sexy mouth. “Might as well, since you’re still here.” He made a halfhearted effort at drying himself. “I’ve been living in this cabin, which is the biggest on the grounds, but still not big enough for me.”
“Seriously?” It looked great to her.
“The shower was especially small,” he explained, “so I’m extending the back end with a larger bedroom and bathroom. It’s not quite done and until it is, I have more room out here.” He eyed her again. “Used to have plenty of privacy, too, until some girl and her dog just showed up out of the blue.”
Odd that the words were disgruntled, but the tone not so much. If anything, he seemed amused. Maybe she was going about this all wrong. After adjusting her tinted glasses, she tried on a congenial smile. “This is Tuff.”
“What is?”
“My dog. His name is Tuff.”
Glancing down, he gave a short laugh at the dog’s sleepy expression. “Hey, boy. Are you really that tough?”
“T-u-f-f,” she explained. “He came with the name when I adopted him. He’s fast, smart and super protective.” She tacked on the last just in case he wasn’t as easygoing as he seemed and had any thoughts of hassling her.
Disinterested in all the human chitchat, Tuff yawned.
“He’s also tired.” Memphis searched the area. “Where’s your car? I didn’t hear you drive in.”
“I walked.”
Skeptical, he asked, “From where?”
Right. Nowhere was near so the question made sense. “We hitched a ride in the back of a woman’s truck. She dropped us off by the camp sign.”
“The camp sign that’s a little over a mile away?”
That far? Hmm. Maybe she could garner some sympathy and that’d soften him up. “Only a mile?” To add an edge of drama, she put a hand to her back. “Felt longer with me carrying all my gear and leading the dog. I think it took me a good forty minutes.”
Lacking even an ounce of pity, he grinned. “Great exercise, right?” He turned a finger in the air. “I’m stepping out now, so unless you want your feelings hurt, you might want to turn around.”
“Why would it hurt my feelings?”
He hitched one of those big shoulders. “No idea, but you’re acting all affronted that I’m out here naked, on my own property where you shouldn’t be, showering in a place that’s none of your business, so I assumed you’d object.” After spewing that mix of nonsense and censure, he waited.
Left with no choice, she gave him the truth. “Eh, since you’re a stranger and everything, I’d prefer to keep an eye on you.”
“What a weak excuse. Admit you want to see me.”
Of all the… She folded her arms and tried to glance away. Couldn’t quite do it, though. “I won’t stare.” She wouldn’t. Her stare had gotten her into trouble too many times.
Had gotten her hurt as well. A long time ago, she reminded herself, and yet it was a lesson she’d never forget.
“Suit yourself.” The towel wasn’t nearly big enough to adequately wrap around his lean hips, but he came out from behind the block wall anyway.
And strolled away.
“Hey.” Diah hustled after him. “Where are we going?”
“I’m going for clothes, and you aren’t invited.” He glanced back. “Much as you’d apparently love to watch.”
Damn it. She had to do better about staring—and usually she did. Given how good he looked, she’d cut herself a little slack for the lapse.
Ignoring his jibe, she aimed for a marginally reasonable comment. “I’ll wait out here.”
Keeping his back to her, he said, “No reason. I’m not hiring you.”
Unacceptable, so she stalled with a question. “You don’t have a shower room here for guests?”
Idly, he pointed in the direction of a concrete building farther out. “Right there, but it’s still loaded with spiders.”
Even as she shuddered, she prodded him by asking, “Squeamish about bugs?”
“Not particularly, but I’d as soon not shower with them.” He went up a few wooden steps to his front door.
Rather than keep chasing him, Diah acted like everything was on track. “Go ahead and get dressed, then I’ll explain.”
At that, he dropped his head forward and laughed.
She waited to see what he’d say, but with another shrug, he opened his door and went inside.
Damn. Now what?
Pacing away, her every step kicking up debris in the gravel walkway, Diah tried to plan. She came up blank. He had to hire her, period. In fact, thanks to Memphis’s brother and his wife, she’d already considered herself hired. They’d offered her assurances.
Could she use that to her advantage?
Twenty minutes later, he still hadn’t returned. People didn’t take that long to get dressed. It was a nice day. Underwear, shorts, a shirt…presto. He’d be done in under a minute.
So he was dodging her. Did he think she’d give up and leave? Fat chance.
She considered knocking on his door, but that wasn’t a great way to make a good impression on a job interview.
If she could turn this into an interview.
If she hadn’t just been completely dismissed.
Crap, what if he was calling the police or something?
Tuff whined, and that helped strengthen her resolve. She hadn’t come this far just to give up. True, she wasn’t the bravest person. So what? She had perseverance and initiative. “Come on, buddy. We both need a rest and Mr. Naked can just do whatever the hell he’s in there doing. I’m not budging unless I’m dragged away.”
Having done it many times now, in many different places, she methodically moved her gear to a cleared site, dug out Tuff’s bowl and filled it with water from Mr. Naked’s outdoor shower. While the dog drank she got set up.
Naturally, she’d chosen the spot closest to his cabin.
He’d figure out that she wasn’t leaving. She couldn’t.
One way or another, this was where she had to be.
While Memphis hastily pulled on boxers and loose cargo shorts, he watched the woman through one of the specialty one-way mirrored windows installed on his cabin as she literally—and expertly—pitched her tent.
On his property.
As if she had every intention of staying, despite anything he’d said. It nettled him big time, and yet it also had his blood pumping. Exhilarating. He hadn’t been this enthralled since moving here and buying the campgrounds.
Sure, he went into town every so often, and he’d visited with his brother and sister-in-law a few times. At least once a week he conferred with Madison, who was not only hardcore at tech but also claimed to be his BFF. Most best-friends-forever would visit in person more often. So far, he’d only met Madison in person a handful of times. Not a biggie since her husband and brothers were scary dudes who excelled at intimidation.
They didn’t intimidate him only because he understood them. They were big-time enforcers of justice, and on a smaller scale, he could help do the same from this campground.
To make the idea a reality, he’d been mostly working alone, setting up security cameras, motion sensors and reliable public WiFi for the guests—which he could easily monitor when necessary.
Eventually, he’d finish some of the necessary things, like cleaning out the showers and fixing the entry road, but any contractors he had around would be clueless to the real reason he had this place.
In fact, the only people so far who knew were his brother, sister-in-law and Madison.
After thumbing his brother’s number on his cell, he waited, and as soon as Hunter answered, Memphis said, “What the hell is this?”
“Memphis?” Hunter asked with feigned innocence.
“Yes, it’s your brother. I thought you loved me.”
“Do,” Hunter said, then asked, “So what’s the problem?”
“You sent someone here for a job.”
“I told you about that.”
“You told me about a guy—Jedidiah—not a pushy girl.” A girl with super-long, gorgeous legs, silky-looking brown hair with blondish ends, and an arresting set of eyes partially hidden behind rose-tinted glasses.
Eyes that instantly captivated.
She also had a totally funky fashion sense.
Not that he didn’t appreciate her cute coverall shorts worn with a faded pink long-sleeve top.
Hunter stated, “Jedidiah is a woman.”
“No shit.”
“You called her a girl.”
“You know what I meant.”
“She’s qualified. Has an amazing background as a handyman—”
“Woman,” Memphis said, throwing the correction back at his brother. “Handywoman.”
“—and she can fix, or oversee the fixing of, all the things you still need repaired. Plus, Jodi liked her.”
Memphis hated to admit it, but an endorsement from his sister-in-law counted for a lot, because Jodi didn’t trust many people. “Background check?”
“We figured you’d do more, but overall she’s clear.”
Overall clear and yet she’d watched him shower without a single qualm. That definitely felt shady…or at least ballsy. Worse, though, she’d heard him singing. Being fickle, he grinned and said, “I don’t like it.”
“You mean you don’t like her? Will it help if I tell you she’s a lot like Jodi?”
“Good Lord.” No, that definitely wouldn’t help. If that was true, he shouldn’t have left her unattended.
Good thing he could see her walking around the grounds, inspecting one thing, frowning at another, testing the sturdiness of something else.
“I’ll share your reaction with Jodi.”
“Don’t you dare.” He adored Jodi and though she didn’t need it, he felt very protective of her.
“So what’s the problem? You were all about me marrying Jodi.”
His stomach dropped. “What the hell does any of this have to do with marriage?”
“I just assumed if you had any type of issue with Jodi, you wouldn’t have sacrificed me.”
Sacrifice? Ha! He’d have liked to see anyone try to separate his brother from Jodi. Satan himself couldn’t have accomplished it. “Jodi, with all her special talents, is perfect for you—but you and I are very different people and you know it.”
“Jodi swears that in the most elemental ways, we’re the same and she wants you to hire Jedidiah.”
Damn. Memphis watched as the woman sat cross-legged on the ground, then dug around in her duffel bag and found an apple. When had she last eaten?
“Memphis?”
“I told her to leave,” he murmured aloud, as much to himself as his brother.
“Did she?”
“No.” Bemused, he watched her fill a bowl with dry food and set it before Tuff. First a water dish, and now this. What else did she have in that pack?
He kind of liked that she’d taken care of her pet first.
“Memphis?”
“She seems to be settling in,” he grumbled. “Now I’m going to have to oust her.”
“Hang on.”
Alarm drew his attention off Jedidiah. “Hunter, don’t you dare put me on with—”
“Hey, Memphis.”
Damn it. “Hey, Jodi,” he said in his nicest happy-to-hear-from-you voice. “How’s my favorite sister-in-law?”
“I’m your only sister-in-law.”
“Even if there were a dozen, you’d be my favorite.” He saw Jedidiah yawn with an elaborate stretch, her arms reaching high, back arching, before she relaxed again.
Fascinating.
Showing visible impatience, she pulled the band from her ponytail, finger-combed her hair and deftly began braiding it over her shoulder.
Mesmerizing.
“You’re piling it on a bit thick, aren’t you?”
Jodi’s droll tone again gained his attention. “Not at all. You’re special. You know I’ve always said so.”
“Well, as someone special, I want you to keep her.”
Memphis rubbed the back of his neck where droplets from his still-wet hair trickled down his spine. He really needed to finish dressing so he could confront his unwanted guest. “Putting an attractive woman here with me isn’t wise.” He snatched up the towel and roughly ran it over his head.
“You think she’s attractive?”
Memphis rolled his eyes. “You’re not blind, honey. You know she is.”
“I guess, but hey, I’m assuming you can control yourself.”
“Can I?” He’d never had to before. Given how Jedidiah had stared at him, the interest would be returned. If she became an employee, he couldn’t very well react to basic urges. Or could he? He’d never been a boss before.
Then again, if he didn’t hire her, she’d leave. Hmm.
“I know you can,” Jodi said. “And, Memphis, she really needs the job. Give her a shot. See how it goes. You have a little time before you open, and I guarantee she’ll help you get the last few things in order.”
That casual last few things should have alarmed him, because seriously, he didn’t want others knowing why he’d bought the campground and how he planned to use it.
Hung up on a different part of what Jodi said, he harked back to, “What do you mean, she needs the job?”
Jodi huffed out a breath. “You met her, Memphis. Does she look like someone with a lot of resources?”
She’d hitchhiked in. She’d pitched her tent. Worse, she looked exhausted, so… “No.” Did she carry all her personal belongings with her? If so, she didn’t have much. “Spell it out for me.”
“Look, it’s her business, okay? All I’ll say is that if you send her packing, she’ll be sleeping in the woods somewhere.”
Sleeping in the woods? “What the hell are you getting me into?”
Hunter rejoined the conversation, saying, “Madison recommends her, too.”
Of all the… They’d already discussed this with Madison? “Listen up, brother. Women do not run my life.”
Jodi’s laugh came through loud and clear. “Keep her, Memphis.”
“She’s not a stray dog, you know.”
“Definitely not.” With more humor than the situation warranted, Jodi said, “You’ll like having her around. Trust me. I’ll check back with you in a few days.”
“Jodi—”
“Later, gator.”
Well, hell.
Hunter asked, “So that’s settled?”
Had he given Memphis a choice? He hated to disappoint Jodi, and now if Jedidiah left, he’d worry about her. No woman should be alone and unprotected in this area, much less alone in the woods.
And it wasn’t just the wildlife and weather that concerned him.
Memphis watched her stretch again, then pet the dog. “How did you and Jodi meet her anyway?”
“She was asking around town about you.”
His brows went up. “How so?”
“Curious about the campgrounds at first. When she found out you owned it now, she wanted to know your plans for the place. When you’d bought in, how long you’d been out there, stuff like that. Jodi got wind of it.”
“Of course she did.” Most likely, Madison had clued in Jodi. For a guy raised with only one brother, Memphis now had two awesome women in his life—a sister-in-law and a tech wizard bestie. He enjoyed them both; Jodi because she was special, both cunning and kind, and she made his brother very happy, and Madison because she was brilliant, connected, and it was nice to talk shop with someone who understood.
“Once we located Jedidiah, Jodi spoke with her.”
“Bet that was an interesting conversation.”
“Actually, Jedidiah seemed skittish at first, and you know Jodi. That made her extra curious, too, but also sympathetic. Jodi claims Jedidiah is here for a reason.”
That was the only conclusion that made sense. Why else would an attractive, healthy woman choose to hitchhike through Colorado and then apply for a handyman job at a remote, rundown campground? “She could be dangerous.”
“You can handle yourself. Plus, Jodi said she wasn’t armed.”
He hadn’t even thought about her having a weapon. “Jodi would know.” His sister-in-law was more astute than most, and deeply aware of everything and everyone. Sad, how and why she’d learned to be that way—but it had made her perfect for Hunter, and vice versa, and that was what mattered most, not any tragedies in the past.
Did Jedidiah have a tragic past?
Seemed possible. After all, Jodi had a nose for recognizing kindred spirits.
“Memphis?”
That particular tone from his brother put him on guard. “What?”
“Give her a try, okay? If it doesn’t work out, if you have legit reason for wanting her off your property, Jodi and I will help you make it happen.”
“Why is it you two think you know everything I need?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Fine. She can stay the night and we’ll see how it goes.” He’d make no promises beyond that. “I should check on her now. She’s been out there stewing while we talked.”
“Ass,” Hunter said in exasperation. “Go take care of her, and let me know if you need anything.”
“Thanks.” He stuck the phone in his pocket, finished toweling his hair, grabbed a T-shirt from the drawer and stepped into old sneakers.
A singular sense of anticipation, something he hadn’t felt in forever, took him back out to the grounds and right up to where Jedidiah Stephens sat with her dog. No way did she miss his approach, especially now that his shadow encompassed her, yet she continued to pet Tuff without acknowledging him. The dog, however, sat up and let his tongue loll out—cautious, ready, but not yet aggressive.
Memphis waited, but Jedidiah said nothing, which meant he had to. “So do you have a reference?”
Squinting against the sun, aqua-colored eyes peered up at him. “Your brother and sister-in-law aren’t good enough?”
“Afraid not.” Was it the pink-tinted glasses that made her eyes that unique shade, a cross between blue and green? Or perhaps it was compliments of colored contacts. For certain, he’d never seen eyes like hers.
She quickly glanced away, but as if she couldn’t help herself, her gaze returned to him. “Then no, I don’t have a reference.”
When she didn’t stand, he crouched down in front of her, noting her touch of wariness. Long lashes lifted, brown eyebrows went up…and then drew down.
“What?” she asked, her tone defensive.
“I’ll keep you on a trial period.”
Miraculously, her expression changed to one of relief mingled with joy. “For real?”
Happiness made her even more appealing. “A week.”
“Awesome.” A big smile put dimples in her cheeks. “That’s time enough to convince you that I’m good to have around.”
Bothered by her nearness, Memphis stood again. “Would you like the use of a cabin?”
“A cabin?” Finally, she came to her feet, too, and though she fought it, her attention flickered to his place. “Where?”
So much suspicion. Had someone mistreated her? It didn’t really feel like a specific concern as much as general caution. A good idea since she was a woman alone, in an isolated area with a large man she didn’t know. If Jodi was right, she didn’t even have a weapon to protect herself.
Standing in front of her, he guessed her to be around five feet seven inches—which put her a good five inches shorter than him.
The braid she’d refashioned was crooked but cute, and his fingers curled with the urge to see if her hair was as silky as it looked. Traces of dust clung to her arms and cheeks. Wisps of hair around her face had darkened with sweat.
None of that should have stirred him, and yet it did.
“What?” she asked again, this time in annoyance. She straightened those silly colored glasses, flipped her braid over her shoulder. “Something wrong?”
Unfortunately, everything seemed right. “No.” Gesturing to the cabin across from his own, he asked, “Will that do? It’s small, only a loft bedroom, kitchenette, love seat with a TV, and a tiny bathroom.” He needed her to be close by so he could keep an eye on her.
“Sure. Or I can stay in my tent.”
“And then shower with the spiders?”
Her lips scrunched to the side. “Yeah, okay. Cabin it is. Er… I mean. How much?”
Benevolent, Memphis held out his arms. “It comes with the job.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Is there a catch?”
So much distrust. “Yes. If I’m not satisfied with the job you do, you lose the cabin.”
“That’s it? For real? I’ll do a great job, you’ll see.”
He believed her. “Would you like to know how much you’ll get paid?”
“I suppose I should.”
Meaning she’d take the job regardless? Things got more interesting by the minute. He named the amount—slightly more than he’d intended to pay—but why not? She looked like she needed it. When her eyes widened, he felt good about upping the pay. “Will that suffice?”
“That’d be terrific, yeah.”
One issue down, now on to the rest. “Have you eaten?”
“You watched me eat an apple.”
He blinked.
“Dude, you have reflective windows. I know what they are. You look out, no one can look in.” She smirked. “Besides, I could feel you staring.”
His fascination grew. “I was on the phone with my brother.”
“Did he sing my praises?”
“Why would you think that?”
“He seemed all gung ho on you hiring me. His wife did, too. They smiled about it a lot.”
Yeah, Memphis just bet they did. The lie came easily. “Actually, they cautioned me.”
Her brows dropped. “About what?”
He started her toward his cabin with a wave of his hand. “You asked about me around town.”
Nothing. Not a word as she followed along.
Prodding her, he asked, “How did you hear about the campground?”
More silence. He glanced at her and caught her concentrated frown. Ah, so she and this campground had a history? He’d have to look into that.
“The thing is…”
Understanding about secrets, he said, “Never mind, we’ll get back to that later. Would you like to come in while I get the keys to unlock your cabin?”
She peered around him, gave it some thought and looked at Tuff. “I can’t leave him out here alone. He’d go bonkers.”
“Should I assume you’ll only be able to work when the dog can be beside you?” That’d certainly limit what she could do.
“This is our first day here. First hour, even. He’ll relax once he gets used to the place. Usually, I can leash him nearby and he’s fine.” She shifted, then asked with dread, “Is that going to be a problem?”
Memphis shook his head. Instincts were a very real thing and his were telling him to accommodate her. “Tuff is welcome inside as well.”
For only a second, she showed her surprise. “Oh, okay, then sure. I can check out your bathroom, too, if you want.” Verbally backpedaling, she said, “I mean, to see what else has to be done.”
He let that go without a joke. “You have plumbing skills?”
“Give me the right tools and a little more muscle and I could pretty much build a house from the ground up.”
“No kidding?” He opened his door and stepped aside for her to enter. “A formidable skill for a… How old are you?”
After the slightest beat of hesitation, she said, “Midtwenties.”
“And so exact.” He came in behind her, which had her quickly turning to face him. Right, her aversion to having people at her back. Without making an issue of it, Memphis strode around her toward the kitchen. “Had some experience in contracting?”
“It’s mostly what I’ve done.” Leaning against a wall, she watched as Tuff sniffed everything—each piece of furniture, cabinet and along the floor. “I tried other jobs, but then I realized I have a knack for handyman work and pick up on stuff easily, so I’ve stuck with it.”
Unlocking a large cabinet on the wall, Memphis surveyed the labeled keys on tiny hooks, each with multiple duplicates, and withdrew the one he’d need. “Was your father in construction?”
With deep interest, she continued to stare at the cabinet.
It took Memphis a second to figure out why, and once he did, compassion overshadowed everything else. Whatever was going on with Jedidiah, she’d learned to be extra cautious. “I need duplicates in case one gets lost.” Her gaze shot to his and held. Such remarkable eyes. She didn’t just look at a person, she fixed on them as if nothing else existed.
The only time Memphis could recall a woman gazing at him like that was during sex, and even then, the attention hadn’t felt so intense.
Should he tell her that the tinted lenses did nothing to lessen the impact of her stare? Probably not—at least not yet. Not when she looked so mistrustful.
“Each cabin has a dead bolt on the inside of the entry door so when you’re inside, you’re safe. I have extra keys just in case someone locks themselves out, or loses the key.”
She needlessly adjusted her glasses and glanced away. “Right.” The uneasy smile she flicked his way didn’t include her endearing dimples. Giving her atten it, Memphis strode around her toward the kitchen. “Had some experience in contracting?”
“It’s mostly what I’ve done.” Leaning against a wall, she watched as Tuff sniffed everything—each piece of furniture, cabinet and along the floor. “I tried other jobs, but then I realized I have a knack for handyman work and pick up on stuff easily, so I’ve stuck with it.”
Unlocking a large cabinet on the wall, Memphis surveyed the labeled keys on tiny hooks, each with multiple duplicates, and withdrew the one he’d need. “Was your father in construction?”
With deep interest, she continued to stare at the cabinet.
It took Memphis a second to figure out why, and once he did, compassion overshadowed everything else. Whatever was going on with Jedidiah, she’d learned to be extra cautious. “I need duplicates in case one gets lost.” Her gaze shot to his and held. Such remarkable eyes. She didn’t just look at a person, she fixed on them as if nothing else existed.
The only time Memphis could recall a woman gazing at him like that was during sex, and even then, the attention hadn’t felt so intense.
Should he tell her that the tinted lenses did nothing to lessen the impact of her stare? Probably not—at least not yet. Not when she looked so mistrustful.
“Each cabin has a dead bolt on the inside of the entry door so when you’re inside, you’re safe. I have extra keys just in case someone locks themselves out, or loses the key.”
She needlessly adjusted her glasses and glanced away. “Right.” The uneasy smile she flicked his way didn’t include her endearing dimples. Giving her attention to the rest of the kitchen, she said, “I know how it works. No worries.”
“Oh?” Happy to give her the change in topic, he asked, “Have some experiences with campgrounds, too?”
“We visited them often when I was a kid.”
Something in how she said that made him wonder: Had she been to this campground? Trying to be subtle about it, he asked, “When was the last time you and your family visited—”
She interrupted to ask, “Mind if I take a look at your addition now?”
Huh. Apparently, discussions of her family were off the table. His curiosity grew, but again, he let it go.
Knowing her preferences, he stepped around her to lead the way to his bedroom. “It’s back here.” As they walked down the hall, he asked, “So other than an apple, have you eaten?”
“This morning.”
“Got a meal hidden in your gear? Because I don’t have the camp store open yet and even when I do it’ll be for basics without a lot of meal choices. The cupboards in your cabin aren’t stocked, either.”
Her hand went to her stomach, but instead of answering his question, she said, “I heard you’re making this a budget place, right?” Studiously ignoring his bed, she moved along to the extension.
In between his special projects for the campgrounds, he’d gotten the bigger bedroom and bathroom semifinished. The doors and all the windows were in, so the room was secure. The drywall was up, the seams mudded, but they needed to be sanded.
“It’ll be an affordable stay, not at all fancy. Only the basics offered.” Which meant that less reputable people would find it appealing. The grounds wouldn’t be on anyone’s radar. Low-key, unobtrusive—quick in and quick out. However, while guests were here, Memphis could do all the digging he wanted on their extracurricular and often illegal activities.
Jedidiah moved on, inspecting everything. “Electrical, plumbing and HVAC are all roughed in?”
“Yes.” He glanced around at the incomplete work. Once the room was closed up, he’d put finishing it on hold to focus on other projects that he considered key to the campground. “The shower only needs to be caulked.”
“So rather than caulk it, you choose to shower outside in April?”
“The weather has been mild and I find it invigorating.” Only a partial lie. There’d been times when he’d thought he’d freeze his balls off, completing his shower in under two minutes and racing back into the warmth of his cabin. “I sing to scare off the bears.”
“There aren’t any bears around.”
“Guess my singing is working.”
She snickered. “Want me to caulk it for you?”
“Why?” She sounded so earnest, he lifted his brows and teased her. “Just because you’re here, you don’t want me showering outside anymore?”
The humor slipped and her expression went blank. “I mean, no, sure…” Confusion brought her brows together. “Did you still plan to?”
Fighting a grin, he gestured at the bedroom. “At least until the rest of this is done.” When it was finished, his bed would get moved in here and he’d have the old, crowded bedroom to use as office space. “A little sanding, trim, paint… Won’t be much longer anyway.”
Determined, she faced him. “I can do all that.”
Never before had he met anyone so eager to take on work. “No kidding?”
Again moving past his question, she explained, “You’ve had your final inspections, right? I can do the hookups for the electrical, plumbing, HVAC—all that. Plus, I’m really good at trim work and I’ve done drywall plenty of times. Painting isn’t a problem, either.” Squaring her shoulders, she said, “I’ll even clear out the spiders in the public showers.”
Damn. Did she think she needed to work sunup to sundown? “Jedidiah…”
“Call me Diah. It’s not such a mouthful.”
“Diah.” Pretty name and it suited her. “All right.”
This time her smile showed only resolve. “I promise I’ll be a good worker.”
“I never doubted it.” He realized Tuff wasn’t with them and turned to see the dog snuffling into his closet. Quickly striding to him, Memphis said, “Hey there, Tuff, how’d you get that door open?”
Before he could reach the dog, Diah darted past him and pulled Tuff away. “Sorry.” Stiff and unsure, she stood protectively in front of the dog. “He gets nosy.”
Her moods bounced around too fast for Memphis to keep track, but always, to one degree or another, the uncertainty was there. Now, when it came to her dog, she did her best to shield him.
What did she think he’d do? Wondering about that, Memphis gentled his tone. “First, there’s nothing awful in my closet so I wasn’t worried.” To reassure her, he reached out and opened the closet door the rest of the way. She could see the clothes in front, but not really the shelving in the back. Not that he was hiding anything but he didn’t think she wanted him to give her an accounting of his belongings. “Even if I was hiding something top secret, I would never mistreat an animal. You don’t have to worry about me with Tuff. I just didn’t want him eating my shoes.”
“Tuff would never!”
Her affront on behalf of her dog was endearing. “If you say so. My brother has this goofy basset mix who seems to like the laces in my shoes.”
The mention of Turbo eased some of the defensiveness from her posture. “I met Turbo. He makes funny noises.”
“That he does. His barker is broken or something. He came that way when Hunter rescued him so we’re not sure how it happened, and now it’s just a very Turbo-like thing to hear a dog quacking.”
The dimples reappeared in her cheeks. “He’s bottom heavy, too, and bounces when he’s excited.”
“I imagine he was excited to meet Tuff.”
“Very.” Putting her hand on Tuff’s head, she said, “We didn’t know what to think, did we, bud?”
Tuff said, “Fft.”
“That’s his quiet bark, his way of keeping things understated. When he’s mad he sounds demonic.” Realizing what she’d said, she quickly backtracked. “Oh, but he doesn’t get mad often, only when something is really wrong or…” Her voice trailed off.
Lori Foster is a New York Times, USA TODAY and Publishers Weekly bestselling author and a recipient of the prestigious RT Book Reviews Career Achievement Award. She lives in Central Ohio, where coffee helps her keep up with her cats and grandkids between writing books.
In this small town romance, a woman must find a way to keep her home, resist the charms of her best friend’s father while dodging a nosey neighbor and avoid being caught under mistletoes. Readers who love rags to riches romance will enjoy Fitting the Financier by Robecca Austin, a steamy, small town, billionaire, age gap, IR romance.
Fitting the Financier
Candy Cane Key
Man of the Month: December
by Robecca Austin
Blurb:
She’s made for me.
The perfect combination of sassy, sweet, and sexy, with generous thighs to cushion my heartache. She’s also my daughter’s best friend, forbidden.
Despite my daughter’s wishes, I have no plans to visit the small town or partake in the festivities of mistletoes and pumpkin spice lattes this Christmas. For good reason. One look into her best friend’s stormy gray eyes and I’ll want no one except her to fill the void in my life.
But when Naomi needs my protection, how can I say no?
She thinks I’m helping her out of charity, but she’s wrong. I can crush bullies, and using that power is the distraction I need to break my desires for her.
“Am I?” The peanuts are warm in my hand. The scent of caramelized sugar tickles my nose.
“Now you’re flushing. If I didn’t know better I’d say you’re having naughty thoughts about the side of my digits.”
I choke on a nut. My eyes water. “I think the reference is to shoe sizes.” I make a point to glance at his snickers.
“Twelves, baby.” He wiggles a brow.
This time I chomp on the nut before it goes anywhere near my throat. “I was thinking your hands belong to a mechanic not a person working in city hall.”
“Give me half a chance and I can show you what these hands are good for.”
“Travis…” I flush, not because I’m a prude, but because despite the lovely evening, Charity’s dad is at the edge of my thoughts. I blame Charity for mentioning him, for convincing him to visit Candy Cane. Most of all, I blame myself for falling for a man who didn’t know I existed beyond being his daughter’s best friend.
“Get your head out of the gutter,” Travis says with a smile that I wished set my heart on fire. “I noticed you didn’t have any Christmas decorations up yet. Any later and the entire town will write to the big man himself.” He glances around him, then whispers. “Or worse, put a complaint in with the city.”
I groan. He’s only half joking. Candy Cane had a Chrsitmas committee of four grandmothers that took their positions as seriously as the mayor. There hasn’t been a change in membership since Carter was president and unless one died, their word is law when it comes to Christmas.
“I’ve just been—”
“Hey, no need to explain.”
But I want to. Want to share my good news with someone other than Charity. “I recently received good news that will help my business.”
“That’s amazing.”
“And nerve racking but it’s an opportunity to grow.”
“You’re not trying to let me down easily, are you?” He searched my face.
I shook my head. “No.” This is my chance to have a fresh beginning all around. It is definitely time I put a stop to this madness I feel for Nathan and get a hold of my love life. I realize that I went about my dating life the wrong way. Pushing Travis away or engrossing myself in work isn’t the answer to forgetting Nathan Dawan. Dating is. Nights like tonight are. We are at the end of the path. The end of a beautiful evening. “Sorry it took so long to make tonight happen.”
He paused, taking my hand. I stared at our hands. This was nice in a gentle, reassuring sort of way. My middle didn’t flutter from the mere thought of him and his name didn’t have my pulse racing. “You’re worth the wait Naomi Waters.”
We’re caught in a loop of staring into each other’s eyes. I will myself to relax, drown in the blue sea staring back at me but all I see are Nathan’s dark intense eyes that mimic the howling winds of a category four hurricane.
Travis leans in and my stomach flutters. The feeling is so unexpected that my eyes widen instead of closing in anticipation of our first kiss and I gasp. He tosses his peanuts aside to cup my cheek. My lips part to tell him to wait…that I’m not ready, but no words escape.
Not a single one.
The distance closes between us and I slam my eyes such, too afraid he’ll see my thoughts for another man in my eyes. The first kiss I’d shamelessly envisioned having with him.
“You really shouldn’t litter,” came an icy tone.
Shit. Shit. I’m even hearing his voice. Squeezing my eyes tighter, I pucker my lips like a tenth grader and concentrate on what is about to happen.
“Naomi!” Nathan growls, the sound bouncing behind my eyelids. I try harder to block him out. He’s only in your imagination.
I count to five and wait.
Copyright 2023 Robecca Austin
*****
Author Info:
Robecca Austin is the author of happy ever after romance stories. She enjoys crafting tales of sassy heroines and alpha heroes that have a soft center.
She writes historical romance and billionaire romance stories.
You can find her outside enjoying nature and lots of sunshine when there are no bugs. When she’s not writing her next novel, she’s busy battling Cystic Fibrosis and hugging family. She lives and works in Canada.
The hockey has-been, the barista, and some holiday magic…
Court Cut from the team, fired my agent…now what?
This can’t be it for me. Unfortunately, the phone isn’t ringing. My best bet is to head home for the holidays and regroup.
Problem: I don’t know what to do with myself. Helping out at the rink might be my ticket out of here, but nothing is happening fast enough. And then there’s Ivan. No, no, it’s not what you think. We went to school together. We’re acquaintance-friends…nothing more.
But you know, I like him. A lot. He’s funny and relentlessly upbeat. I’m a better person when I’m with him—the kind who volunteers to deck the halls and wrap garland on lampposts and—
Whoa. What’s happening here?
Ivan I love the holidays! But running the coffee shop on my own during the busiest season of the year is going to be a challenge. And the sudden appearance of my former crush is all kinds of distracting.
See, I spent my formative years mooning over Court Henderson, our high school’s hockey phenom, even though he was out of my league. Thankfully, I grew up and left the silly remnants of my youth behind. Or did I?
Grown-up Court is full of surprises, and under his gruff yet extremely fine exterior, he’s a good soul with a huge heart. He’s charming, sweet, handsome, and— Uh-oh.
My crush is back. Just in time for the holidays…
Holiday Crush is an MM bisexual, small town romance featuring a renewed ancient crush, some mistletoe latte art, and a little seasonal magic.
Court shook his head at my amazing, incredible Christmas tree on his way to the door. “I can’t get over that thing. It’s wild.”
I beamed. “I know. I love it. I buy a regular tree too, even though it’s holiday overkill. But who cares? This is my favorite time of year, and I celebrate to the nth degree!”
He shoved his arms into his jacket, a playful grin on his handsome mug. “And do you celebrate by watching scary movies and stringing candy corn and plastic spiders into garland?”
“No, smartass, but damn, that’s a great idea for Halloween next year.”
He chuckled. “So…what do you do for Christmas?”
I braced my left hand on the doorjamb and cast a quick glance at the fireplace to keep from staring at my guest. Standing a foot apart in the cramped doorway between my foyer and living room felt oddly intimate. Court took up space in my tiny abode, with his broad shoulders, towering height, and big muscles. I was more aware of him than ever. It took me a second to gather my thoughts and remember what we were talking about.
Christmas. Right.
“The usual—decorate my house, string lights outside, drape fresh garland everywhere. And yes, there’s always mistletoe. I also watch holiday movies and listen to Christmas music from mid-November till the end of the year. I bake cookies too, which always turn out to be a hot mess, but baking is festive and fun, and my family and friends are kind enough to compliment me anyway. And…I sign up for every holiday event in town, including the Skate with Santa party at the rink, caroling at Wood Hollow’s Home for the elderly, Toys for Tots Sled Fest next to the Christmas Tree Farm in Fallbrook, and of course, Holiday Bingo. By the way, all of those, including Bingo, have volunteer positions…if you’re interested.”
“I’d rather shovel snow in Siberia,” he deadpanned.
I grinned. “Your holiday spirit needs a tune-up.”
“Yeah, yeah. I don’t do holiday spirit.”
“That’s an awful thing to say!”
“Why? There’s no point. I’m usually on the road, so I’ve never bought a tree and I don’t always remember to buy gifts, either. My brother shamelessly shows me up every holiday. Oren bought our folks an oil painting of their ten-year-old golden retriever a couple of years ago. And it was really nice. I bought Mom the same gloves I bought her the previous year and the wrong-sized slippers for Dad.”
“Oh, dear. Well, I’m happy to help you this year. I’m an expert at gift-giving and—what’s so funny?”
“Ha. Ha.” I moved by him to unlock the door. “Good-bye, Grinch.”
He snickered. “Later. And thanks for tonight. It was fun.”
“Yeah. It was,” I agreed, smiling as he stepped closer.
This was where I was supposed to shuffle out of the way to give him room to slip outside without letting the cold inside, but my feet were seemingly glued to the floor. And now, we were inches apart. So close I could see flecks of gold in his blue eyes and a scar half-hidden in his left brow. I should have jumped away and laughed off this little dance before I accidentally made it awkward.
Too late.
Ugh. Now I was staring at him and he was staring at me and…his mouth was right there, hovering over mine. I could feel his breath on my lips and smell gin and something woodsy and masculine on his skin. And nope, I couldn’t resist.
I leaned in, set my palm on his chest and pressed my lips to Court’s.
And that was the match that started the fire.
*****
Review:
I loved this story and read it in less than a day. It’s perfect as a holiday read, full of winter cheer & fun with minimal drama.
Ivan is a delight, with his mix of brashness, charm, and awkwardness. He’s a proud romantic and embraces everything about the holidays. Court on the other hand doesn’t really want anything to do with the season, especially now that he’s at loose ends. But a few run-ins with Ivan soon has him embracing what Elmwood has to offer. Especially the sexy barista.
Court already accepts his bisexuality, which helps keep the angst to a minimum. I don’t mind a bi-awakening, they can be interesting and full of emotion (like Next Season). But here our main characters get to move straight into getting to know each other again … and getting to KNOW each other. It’s steamy but also playful and sweet. The first book, You Again, might not have been quite my thing, but everything else by Hayes has been a delight and Holiday Crush is no different. I’m so ready for what she delivers next.
(Although this is book three in the series, I feel like it can be read as a stand alone. There are returning characters, and Ivan & JC’s amusingly unusual friendship was a highlight in book two, there’s not anything that would have directly impacted this story.)
*****
Author Info:
Lane Hayes loves a good romance! An avid reader from an early age, she has always been drawn to well-told love story with beautifully written characters. She loves wine, chocolate and travel (in no particular order). Lane lives in Southern California with her amazing husband and her fabulous pup, George.
From ex-con to self-made millionaire, there’s no challenge too tough for Cash Sweeney to conquer. So why has he spent twelve years pining for his best friend instead of doing something about it? Because losing Nick would be like existing with half of his heart. Is it better to settle for what he can have or battle for what he wants?
Banged up and burned out, FBI Agent Nick Scott arrives at Redemption Ridge with a trunkful of luggage and a yearning heart. Cash is easy to love but hard to read, and Nick fears his epiphany has come too late. Does he tuck his tail and run or fight for the man who’s become his home?
Tender gestures and heartfelt conversations lead to thrilling revelations neither man can ignore. No more what-ifs or maybes. Cash and Nick are all in. And they’ll need each other more than ever when a devious enemy emerges from the shadows to put their promising future at risk. With the stakes so high, will the guys double down or fold to pressure?
Saints Like Him is book three in the Redemption Ridge series. Though each story features a different couple, reading the series in order is essential. Saints Like Him contains mature themes and is intended for adults.
Content Warning: homophobia, abuse, and conversion therapy are briefly discussed in this book, though no graphic descriptions are used.
Cash pursed his lips while studying the chip selection at the grocery store in Last Chance Creek. What snack was most suitable for a forty-nine-year-old man while bingeing the newest season of Heartstopper? Cash wasn’t one to use his age as a reason to avoid many things, but he wasn’t proud of his obsession with the series about queer teenagers and their first loves. Their vitality and innocence sometimes made him feel older than dirt, but mostly it made him grateful that a new generation could see themselves in the characters.
It was unlikely Cash’s life would’ve turned out differently if he’d had positive representation as a teen. He’d lost his mom to poverty and drugs and had gone to live with strangers at a time when he was figuring things out about himself. Cash hadn’t felt comfortable coming out, or letting others in, until he was thirty. He’d rebuilt his life from the ashes of his past and had been tired of living a lie. The penniless dirt track racer had to pretend, but the successful technology inventor did not. Cash had thought his newly gained wealth would insulate him from scrutiny and scorn, but it only perpetuated the narrative that he was an outsider who didn’t belong. But those closed doors and snubs didn’t deter him; they fueled the perpetual fire in his soul and made him richer.
He couldn’t think of a single hard knock he’d change because they’d all led him to this point. Well, maybe not to standing in a grocery store staring at the same bag of Fritos for a solid ten minutes. He meant his ranch, his people, and the journey he’d taken to have them in his life. Contentment didn’t negate his few regrets or warm his bed, but the one man who could fix both problems was across the country. Who the hell was he kidding? It wouldn’t have mattered if Nick was at Quantico, on Mars, or standing beside Cash. He was off-limits. Cash just needed to convince his foolish heart of that fact—a feat he hadn’t accomplished in twelve years. But had he really tried that hard?
A warm, masculine chuckle invaded his thoughts, and Cash jerked his head to find Seth Burke approaching him. He bit back a snort. Burke didn’t approach; he swaggered with big dick energy. The sheriff was a good five inches taller, a few years younger, and had the persistence of a bloodhound when it came to Cash. Burke’s uniform consisted of a pressed khaki shirt, dark denim jeans, boots, and a white Stetson hat. Cash wasn’t sure what shone brighter in the store’s overhead lights—the shiny sheriff star pinned to Burke’s shirt or his white, toothy grin. Damn, but the man was fine as hell with jet-black hair, gray eyes, and sun-kissed skin. No matter the time of day, that superhero square jaw was clean-shaven to show off his magnificent bone structure. Why the hell couldn’t Cash return the man’s interest? He could trade heartache for the kind of twinges and stings that left a man smiling instead of moping.
“What’d that bag of chips do to you?” Burke asked when he reached Cash. His voice was jovial, pure good ole boy, but the tension around Burke’s mouth betrayed him.
Cash snorted and faced his friend. “I was just lost in thought.” He glanced down and saw Burke had already placed several items in his basket. “I didn’t see your truck in the parking lot.”
A dark brow arched. “Or you would’ve kept driving?”
Cash sighed. “Of course not. I was just making conversation.”
“The inane kind you make when you’ve been avoiding your friend?” Burke pressed.
Were they friends? They met for lunch regularly at the diner and texted often, so definitely more friendly than acquaintances.
*****
Review:
This series has not been stand alone stories and the latest is no different. Someone else mentioned it felt like an extended epilogue and I think I can agree with that. We find out why Salvation Anew has been causing trouble for Redemption Ridge and get to see Cash & Nick finally decide to stop dancing around each other. It’s satisfying from an overall story perspective but may leave some readers wanting for something more robust.
I love Cash – how level headed, caring, and strong he is. He obviously cares about his guys and his community, willing to do just about anything to help them and to right any wrongs he can. We’ve known since the beginning that there was something going on between him and Nick but we didn’t know exactly what. And we finally find out. I can’t decide how I feel about Cash with Nick though. For someone who has come across as so put together for so long, it’s a bit of a disconnect to see him so unsure and vulnerable. On one hand it’s reassuring to know that he has a weakness for someone so important to him but it’s also a little discomforting. Kinda like life.
We also find out a lot more about Nick & his feelings about Cash and we get small glimpses of their time together. The connection they have is strong enough to survive 12 years of separation and the hardships that life gave them. But those long years of only being friends also means that when they finally decide to chance their friendship for what their hearts have been craving they slide right into being a couple. There’s very little drama but a whole lot of sweetness as they show each other how much they care with special gestures, small and large.
I don’t know if this is another of those times when the fact that I’m a straight female means that I ask “is that sexy” or “do people really say that” more than once. I don’t think I did that in the first two stories (and I didn’t mention it in eitherreview) but I did notice it in an unrelated book I read by this author. It may be the way Walker writes or it may just be me 🙂
Steamy and emotional, Walker brings her readers the resolution to this couple that they have been waiting for. And sets up future stories wonderfully – I can’t wait to see what trouble Rue can cause or what makes Owen & Tyler finally get their act together. Looking forward to more of the men from Redemption Ridge.
*****
Author Info:
Ever since she was a little girl, Aimee Nicole Walker entertained herself with stories that popped into her head. Now she gets paid to tell those stories to other people. She wears many titles—wife, mom, and animal lover are just a few of them. Her absolute favorite title is champion of the happily ever after. Love inspires everything she does, music keeps her sane, and coffee is the magic elixir that fuels her day.
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Kareem spent his teen years fighting his growing desires for his sister’s best friend, Amy. Now, he’s taking part in a charity bachelor auction and his sister wins the bid… for her bestie. Readers who love holiday romances with bachelor auctions will enjoy Coming Down Her Chimney by Imani Jay, a steamy, small town, sister’s best friend, second chance romance.
Coming Down Her Chimney
Candy Cane Key
Man of the Month: December
by Imani Jay
Blurb:
Amy My bestie dragged me to the lovely beach town where her parents retired. What she failed to mention is her brother, superstar basketball player (and my lifelong crush…), Kareem, is also here…
Kareem I spent my teens fighting my growing desires for my sister’s best friend. And seeing Amy again after all this time? She looks even better. And she’s still the sweet, funny, smart girl I could never forget…
What happens when Kareem takes part in the local Charity Bachelor Auction and his sister wins the bid… for her bestie.
Tag along for a safe, steamy, second chance romance with no cheating, no cliffhanger and a guaranteed HEA!
I push open the heavy glass door of our office building, the cold, San Francisco December air hitting my cheeks. I hurry inside, my heels clicking on the polished marble floors. As I make my way past the rows of cubicles, I catch a glimpse of myself in the dark computer screens – my curly hair bouncing around my shoulders, my brown eyes peering out from under thick lashes.
I plop down at my desk, setting my coffee, purse and laptop bag down. I boot up my computer, the screen lighting up. Numbers, always numbers. Sometimes I dream in debits and credits.
As I open up the latest expense reports, my mind drifts to the coming holidays. While my coworkers chat about their ski trips and what parties they’ll attend, I’ll be spending Christmas in the real cold with my sister and her family in Virginia. The thought of the frigid winter depresses me. I crave sunshine on my skin, sand between my toes. But my traitor parents left the city for a Caribbean cruise, so it’s whether a solo holiday in my apartment or family time on the East Coast.
I’m interrupted from my daydream by the ringing of my phone. I smile when I see the name flash on the screen.
“Hey Lisa!” I answer.
My best friend’s bubbly voice comes through the receiver. “Ami! How’s my favorite girl?”
We chat about life, work. As always, her law firm is keeping her busy. Then Lisa asks me about my holiday plans, and I sigh.
“Pfff, my parents went on their cruise. So it’s Virginia with my sister or just me, takeout, and Netflix. I’ll live vicariously through your tropical vacation pictures.”
Lisa gasps. “Oh my god! I can’t believe I didn’t think to invite you sooner. Come down to my parents’ beach house with us!”
My eyes go wide. THE beach house? In Florida? That sounds like a dream. But imposing on their family holiday…
“Are you sure that’s okay?” I ask hesitantly.
Lisa scoffs. “Of course! You know Mom and Dad love you. And I could really use my bestie to help with all the holiday activities’ organization.”
I chew on my bottom lip, considering. A warm beach vacation with Lisa and her awesome family does sound amazing. Way better than sitting alone in my apartment or going to freeze my butt at Marie’s.
“Alright, I’m in!” I finally say. Lisa squeals in excitement. And as we discuss travel plans, I can’t keep the grin off my face. No snow for me this Christmas – I’m heading for sunshine and sand!
Lisa fills me in on the details – I’ll fly into Tampa next week and drive down to the Keys to meet them.
“And we can talk about you and my brother,” she teases.
I feel my cheeks heat. Lisa laughs.
I suck my teeth. “Girl, leave me alone.”
Truth is, I’ve had the biggest crush on Kareem Mason forever. The first time Lisa invited me to her house back when we were in high school and became inseparable. But he’s always been older, cooler, waaayyy out of my league. And now, he’s a successful, rich and famous basketball player. I’m just me – no way he’d ever look at me as more than his little sister’s best friend.
The thought of him makes my pulse quicken. I push that to the far corners my mind.
“I’m just looking forward to sunshine and piña coladas,” I say breezily.
“Uh huh, sure,” Lisa teases. “Well, I better get back to it. I have no intention of taking any work with me, and
I hope you do the same. Get ready for the best holiday ever, bestie!”
We say our goodbyes and I set the phone down, shaking my head with amusement. A week lounging on the beach sounds like heaven.
I start mentally packing my bikinis and sunscreen, daydreaming about crystal blue waves.
Copyright 2023 Imani Jay
*****
Author Info:
Imani loves reading romances with curvy queens who find their HEA with alpha hunks, so that’s what she writes! If you enjoy sweet and spicy stories filled with fun, heat and all the feels, you’re in the right place!
Thor meets Tony Hawk in this comedic, low-angst/high spice MM romance about a serious hockey goalie who is drawn out of his shell by a bratty skateboarder, a dare involving cake, and a lesson in how to use joysticks-for video games of course.
Bad Pucking Influence
Colorado Bulldogs #2
by Michele Lenard
Blurb:
On the surface, I’ve got it all. I’m the starting goalie and Captain of the Colorado Bulldogs hockey team. I’ve got more money than I know what to do with. I can count an entire team of elite athletes as my friends. And according to the pundits, I’m an eligible bachelor.
That’s the image everyone sees, but it’s just a role I play. A part dictated by my career. I have to be just as perfect off the ice as I am on it since everything I do reflects on my team in some way or another. So, those questions I have about why I don’t crave sexual contact the way my teammates do–questions I’m afraid to ask with the world watching… I decided a long time ago it didn’t make sense to look for answers until after I retire.
Then I ran into him.
Tripp is loud, obnoxious, and full of confidence. Some people find his sass off-putting, but not me. I find it intriguing, and I admire his ability to be himself, consequences be damned. Apparently, I also admire the way he looks, since my eyes seem to linger on him longer than they should, and when he sets his sights on me…
Waiting for retirement to explore who I am seems like too big a sacrifice, so when Tripp offers to help me answer some of those questions about myself, I jump.
I’m tired of pretending to be Mr. Perfect… Tripp and his playboy antics might be just the thing I need to figure out who I am outside of hockey. The only problem is, everyone–including our mutual friends–see him as a bad pucking influence.
Bad Pucking Influence is a low-angst, high-spice MM romance featuring a hockey player and a brat, not a hockey book featuring a romance. Fans of bratty playboys and gentle giants will enjoy this light-hearted, steamy yet touching love story.
Since I first saw Tripp at a team barbeque Xander dragged him to last summer, I’ve found myself noticing him more and more. In my defense, it’s hard not to. Standing at six feet, with perfectly mussed bleached-blond hair and dark stubble that’s hard to miss since the contrast is so stark, it’s the mischievous tilt of his lips that really captures my attention. I often find myself wondering what’s going on in his mind, particularly since he’s a professional at giving people the shock-and-awe treatment. His antics amuse me more than they should, even when they involve silly excuses to measure my biceps with his hands.
Between his loud looks and even louder personality, he doesn’t exactly fade into the background, and if I’m being honest, I find his brash nature freeing. I sort of like that he’s become a bit of a regular fixture in our social circle. What’s confusing to me is that it’s not just his personality that catches my attention. His appearance fascinates me, especially now, with him skating around shirtless.
Tall and lean, every muscle is on display, showing off a smattering of tattoos that would otherwise be hidden. They’re kind of mesmerizing to watch as they ripple under his skin. So is the youthful gleam in his eye. It’s not arousing exactly, but it’s something. Something I’ve yet to put a label on, but I only seem to experience it around him. Which might mean sitting here watching him is a bad idea, at least until I sort out some of my confusion.
If only I could look away.
*****
Review:
I liked the characters – Noah is a big, ol’ teddy bear and Tripp is as in-your-face as you can get – but there’s definitely something more lurking beneath the surface of both. We get an understanding of Noah’s pretty early on, and Tripp is definitely all in for helping him explore his sexuality, which means he also brings his own baggage into their situation. There’s a reason he’s not willing to get involved with people and it takes a while to share it with us. I don’t know that everyone is willing to put in the time needed to go from casual sex to Tripp opening up & spilling all his secrets but I found it a satisfying resolution to their relationship.
While it isn’t necessary to have read the first book, Bad Pucking Timing, I do think it will help with how quickly Noah and Tripp fall into a sexual relationship together. It also gives a better look at the fun, & supportive, side of Tripp and how he & Noah have gotten to this point. While the beginning is oh-so-steamy, I think that foundation may be needed so that Tripp’s bratty side is better understood and to help readers get through the slower transition of their relationship.
*****
Author Info:
Michele is a tomboy who writes contemporary romance (usually sports themed) that is both sweet and steamy. Her goal is to make you fan your face as you wipe a tear from your eye. Her books are part of a series but there are no cliffhangers so each can be read as a standalone. When she isn’t reading or writing she enjoys the outdoors, something that pops up in her books from time to time.
He’s Emerald Creek’s hottest cowboy—and the one man she shouldn’t want
On the surface, Egan Donnelly is hometown hero material—top gun, commanding an elite fighter training squadron and ranching royalty. Inside, he feels like a fraud, convinced he’s responsible for his best friend’s death. At least he won’t let himself succumb to the heat between him and Jack’s widow, Alana. Yet. Now that she’s making regular trips to his ranch to care for his dad, that vow is getting harder to keep.
Alana Davidson isn’t just grieving her husband’s loss, she’s feeling betrayed over his secret infidelity. Wanting Egan makes things even more complicated. As a nutritionist, she can help Egan’s dad recover from his health scare, but it’s not so easy to get her own heart back on track. Because despite shared guilt and family pressure, she’s falling fast, and Egan is right there with her…
That whole deal about bad news coming in threes? Well, it was a crock. Lieutenant Colonel Egan Don- nelly now had proof of it.
First, there’d been the unexpected visitor, AKA the messenger, who’d started the whole bad-news ball rolling. That’d teach him to open his frickin’ door before he’d even finished his frickin’ coffee.
Then, there was the so-called celebration that would stir up the worst of his past and serve it up to him on a silver platter. Or rather on a disposable paper plate, anyway.
Then, a letter from his ex, which he figured was never a good sign. Who the heck actually wanted to hear from their cheating ex? Not him, that was for sure.
Those were the three things—count them: one, two, three—that was supposed to have been the final tally of bad crap even if for only a day, but apparently the creator of that old saying had no credibility what- soever. Then again, Egan had known firsthand that bad news didn’t have limited quantities.
Or expiration dates.
Now he was faced with ironclad confirmation that
those other three things were piddly-ass drops in the proverbial bucket compared to bad-news number four.
And now, everything in his world was crashing and burning.
Again.
Thirty Minutes Earlier
In the dream, Lieutenant Colonel Egan Donnelly saved his best friend’s life. In the dream, the explosion didn’t happen. It didn’t blast through the scorched, airless night. Didn’t tear apart the transport vehicle.
Didn’t leave blood on the bleached sand.
Didn’t kill.
In the dream, Egan was the hero that so many people proclaimed he was. He made just the right decisions to save everyone, including Jack. Especially Jack.
Egan didn’t fight tooth and nail to come out of this dream—unlike the ones that were basically a blow-by-blow account of what had actually happened that god-awful night nearly three years ago. Those dreams were pits of the darkest level of hell where everything spun and bashed, stomping him down deeper and deeper into the real nightmare. Those dreams he fought.
Had to.
Because Egan had learned the hard way if he let those dreams play out, then it was a damn hard struggle to come back from them. Heck, he was still trying to come back from them.
Despite wanting to linger in this particular dream
where he got to play hero, it didn’t happen, thanks to his phone dinging with a text. He frowned, noticing that it was barely six in the morning. Texts at this hour usually were not good. Considering that all three of his siblings were on active duty, not good could be really bad.
He saw his father’s name on the screen, and the worry instantly tightened Egan’s gut. His dad had just turned sixty so while he wasn’t in the “one foot in the grave” stage, he wasn’t the proverbial spring chicken, either. Added to that, his dad still ran the day-to-day operation of Saddlebrook, the family’s ranch in Emerald Creek, Texas. The ranch that’d been in the Donnelly family for over a hundred years and had grown and grown and grown with each succeeding generation. All that growth required hours of upkeep and work.
Found this when I was going through some old photo albums, his dad had texted.
What the heck? That gut tightness eased up, some, when Egan saw it was a slightly off-center image taken in front of the main barn on the ranch. His dad had obviously used his phone to take a picture of the old photo. Emphasis on old.
It was a shot that his grandmother, Effie, had snapped thirty years ago on Egan’s eighth birthday. His brother, Cal, would have been six. His sister, Remi, a two-year-old toddler, and his other brother, Blue, was just four. Stairsteps, people called them, since they’d all been born just two years apart.
In the photo, his dad, looking lean, fit and young,
was in the center, flanked by Egan and Remi on the right, and Cal and Blue on the left. Remi and Blue were both grinning big toothy grins. Cal and Egan weren’t. Probably because they’d been old enough to understand that life as they’d known it was over.
Their lives hadn’t exactly gone to hell in a handbasket, but this particular shot had been taken only a couple of weeks after their mother had died from cancer. A long agonizing death that had left their dad the widower of four young kids. Still, his dad was eking out a smile in the picture, and he’d managed to gather all four of them in his outstretched arms.
Bittersweet times.
That’s when their mom’s mom, Grammy Effie, had come to Saddlebrook for what was supposed to have been a couple of months, until his dad got his footing. Effie was still living on the ranch thirty years later and had obviously put down roots as deep as his father’s.
Egan was wondering what had prompted his dad to go digging through old family albums when his phone dinged again. It was another text from his dad, another photo. It was an image that Egan also knew well, and he mentally referred to it as the start of phase two of his life.
The first phase had been with a loving mother that sadly he now couldn’t even remember. That had ended with her death. Phase two had begun when his dad had gotten remarried four years later to a young fresh-faced Captain Audrey Granger, who’d then been stationed at the very base in San Antonio
where Egan was now. It was an hour’s commute to the ranch that Audrey had diligently made.
For a while, anyway.
In this shot, his dad and new bride dressed in blue were in the center, and both were flashing giddy smiles. Ditto for Remi and Blue. Again, no smiles for Cal and Egan since they’d been ten and twelve respectively and were no doubt holding back on the glee to see how life with their stepmom would all play out.
It hadn’t played out especially well.
But then, it also hadn’t hit anywhere near the “hell in a handbasket” mark, either.
If there’d been a family photo taken just two years later, though, Audrey probably wouldn’t have been in it. By then, she’d been in Germany. Or maybe England. Instead of an hour commute, she’d come “home” to the ranch a couple of times a year. Then, as her career had blossomed, the visits had gotten further and further apart. These days, Brigadier General Audrey Donnelly only came home on Christmas. If that.
Egan sent his dad a thumbs-up emoji to let him know he’d seen the pictures, and he was considering an actual reply to ask if all was well, but his alarm went off. He got up, mentally going through his schedule for the day. As the commander of the Fighter Training Squadron at Randolph AFB, Texas, there’d be the usual paperwork, going over some stats for the pilots in training, and then in the afternoon, he’d get to do one of the things he loved most.
Fly.
Of course, it would be under the guise of a training mission in the T-38C Talon jet, not the F-16 that Egan used to pilot, but it would still give him that hit of adrenaline. Still give him the reminder of why he’d first joined the Navy and then had transferred to the Air Force so he could continue to stay in the cockpit.
Egan showered, put on his flight suit, read through his emails on his phone and was about halfway through his first cup of coffee when his doorbell rang. He had the same reaction to it as he had the earlier text. A punch of dread that something was wrong. It wasn’t even seven o’clock yet and hardly the time for visitors. Especially since he lived in base housing and therefore wasn’t on the traditional beaten path for friends or family to just drop by.
Frowning, he went to the door. And Egan frowned some more when he looked through the peephole at the visitor on his porch. A woman with pulled back dark blond hair and vivid green eyes. At first glance, he thought it was his ex-wife, Colleen, someone he definitely didn’t want to see, but this was a slightly younger, taller version of the woman who’d left him for another man.
Alana Davidson, Colleen’s sister.
“Yes, I know it’s early,” Alana sighed and said loud enough for him to hear while she looked directly at the peephole. “Sorry about that.”
Wondering what the heck this was all about, he opened the door and got an immediate blast of heat. Texas in June started out hot as hell and got even hotter. Today was apparently no exception. He also
got another immediate blast of concern because there was nothing about Alana’s expression that indicated this was a social visit.
Then again, Alana and he never had social visits.
Never.
Just too much old baggage, old wounds and old everything else between them. Ironic, since she’d been married to his best friend. Now, she was his dead best friend’s widow and bore that strong resemblance to his cheating ex-wife who’d left him just days before Jack’s death.
Egan was no doubt an unwelcome sight for her, too. He was the man who’d not only failed to keep her husband alive, but he was also the reason Jack had been in that transport vehicle in the first place.
So, yeah, old baggage galore.
“Sorry,” Alana repeated, looking up at him. Not looking at him for long, though. Like their avoidance of social visits, they didn’t do a lot of eye contact, either. “But I have an appointment at the base hospital in an hour, and I wanted to catch you before you went into work.”
“The hospital?” he automatically questioned.
She waved it off, clearly picking up on his concern that something might be medically wrong with her. “I’m consulting with a colleague on a chief master sergeant who’s being medically retired and moving to Emerald Creek. I’ll be working with the chief to come up with some lifestyle changes.”
Alana made that seem like her norm, and maybe it was. She was a dietitian, and because as Jack’s widow
she still had a military ID card so she wouldn’t have had any trouble getting onto the base. Added to that, Emerald Creek was a haven for retirees and veterans since it was so close to three large military installations. There were almost as many combat boots as cowboy boots in Emerald Creek.
“How’d you know where I live?” he asked.
“I got your address from your grandmother.” She glanced over her shoulder at the street of houses. “I occasionally have consults here, but it’s the first time I’ve been to this part of the base.”
Yeah, his particular house wasn’t near the hospital, commissary or base exchange store where Alana would be more apt to go. Added to that, Jack had never been stationed here, which meant Alana had never lived here, either.
“Full disclosure,” she said the moment he shut the door. “You aren’t going to like any of what I have to say.”
Now it was Egan who sighed and braced himself for Alana to finally do something he’d expected her to do for three years. Scream and yell at him for allowing Jack to die. But there was no raised voice or obvious surge of anger. Instead, she took out a piece of paper from her sizeable handbag and thrust it at him.
“It’s a mock-up of a flyer that Jack’s mom intends to have printed up and sent to everyone in her known universe,” Alana explained.
At first glance, he saw that the edges of the flyer had little pictures of barbecue grills, fireworks, the
American flag and military insignia. Egan intended to just scan it to get the gist of what it was about, but the scanning came to a stumbling slow crawl as he tried to take in what he was reading.
“Join us for a Life Celebration for Major Jack Connor Davidson, July Fourth, at the Emerald Creek City Park. It’ll be an afternoon of food, festivities and remembrance as a celebratory memorial painting for Jack will be unveiled by our own Top Gun hometown hero, Lieutenant Colonel Egan Donnelly.”
Well, hell. Both sentences were full-on gut punches and thick gobs of emotional baggage. Memorial. Life celebration. Remembrances. The icing on that gob was the last part.
Top Gun hometown hero.
Egan was, indeed, a former Top Gun. He’d won the competition a dozen years ago when he’d been a navy lieutenant flying F-16s. The hometown part was accurate, too, since he’d been born and raised in Emerald Creek, but that hero was the biggest of big-assed lies.
“I can’t go,” Egan heard himself say once he’d managed to clear the lump in his throat.
She nodded as if that were the exact answer she’d expected. “I’m guessing you’ll be on duty?”
He’d make damn sure he was, but wasn’t it ironic that the memorial celebration would fall on the one weekend of the month he usually went home to help his dad on the family ranch? Maybe Jack’s mom knew that, or maybe the woman just believed that such an event would be a good fit for the Fourth of July.
It wasn’t.
Barbecue, hot dogs, beer and such didn’t go well with the crapload of memories something like that would stir. He didn’t need a memorial or a life celebration to remember Jack. Egan remembered him daily, hourly even, and after three years, the grief and guilt hadn’t lost any steam.
“I’ll let Tilly know you can’t be there,” Alana said, referring to Jack’s mother. “She’s mentioned contacting your stepmom to see if she could be there for the unveiling.”
“Good luck with that,” he muttered, and Alana’s sound of agreement confirmed that she understood it was a long shot.
What would likely end up happening was that his brother Cal would get roped into doing the “honors.” He’d known Jack, and Cal’s need to do the right thing would have him stepping in.
“The last time I ran into Tilly, she didn’t want to discuss anything involving Jack’s death,” Egan recalled.
Alana nodded. “That’s still true. Nothing about how he died, et cetera. She only wants to chat about the things he did when he was alive.”
“So, why do a memorial painting?” Egan wanted to know.
“I’m not sure, but it’s possible the painting will be another life celebration deal that she’ll want hung in some prominent part of town like city hall or the library. In other words, maybe the painting will have nothing to do with Jack even being in the military.
Tilly was proud of him,” she quickly added. “But she’s never fully wrapped her mind around losing him.”
That made sense. The one time he’d tried to talk to her about Jack’s death, she’d shut him down. As if not talking about his death would somehow breathe some life back into him.
“There’s one more thing,” Alana went on, and this time she took a pale yellow envelope from her purse and handed it to him. “It’s a letter from Colleen.”
Egan had already reached for it but yanked back his hand as if the envelope were a coiled rattler ready to sink its fangs into his flesh. The mention of his ex-wife tended to do that. Memories of Colleen didn’t fall into the “hell on steroids” category like Jack’s. More like the “don’t let the door hit your cheating ass” category. Colleen had obviously liked that direction just fine since she hadn’t spoken a word to him since the divorce.
He glanced at the envelope, scowled. “A letter? Is it some kind of twelve-step deal about making amends or something?” he asked.
Alana shook her head. “No, I think it’s a living will of sorts.”
That erased his scowl. “Is Colleen dying?”
“Not that I know of, but she apparently decided she wanted to make her last wishes known. She sent letters for me, our aunt and your dad. I have his if you want to give it to him.”
Egan reached out again to stop her from retrieving it, and Alana used the opportunity to put the letter for him in his hand. “I don’t want this,” he insisted.
“Totally understand. I read mine,” she admitted. “Along with spelling out her end-of-life wishes—cremation, no funeral, no headstone—she wants us to have some sister time, like a vacation or something.”
Egan had no idea how much contact Alana and Colleen had with each other these days, but it was possible when Colleen had walked out on him, she’d also walked out on Alana. He thought he detected some animosity in Alana’s tone and expression.
He went straight to the trash can in the adjoining kitchen and tossed the envelope on top of the oozing heap of the sticky chicken rice bowl that had been at least a week past its prime when he’d dumped it the night before.
“I’m not interested in wife time with her,” he muttered, knowing he sounded bitter and hating that he still was.
Unlike what he was still going through with Jack, though, his grief and anger with Colleen had trickled down to almost nothing. Almost. He now just considered her a mistake and was glad she was out of his life. Some days, he could even hope that she was happy with the Mr. Wonderful artist that she’d left him for.
When he turned back to Alana, he saw she had watched the letter trashing, and she was now combing those jeweled green eyes over his face as if trying to suss out what was going on in his head. Egan decided to diffuse that with a question that fell into
the polite small talk that would have happened had this been a normal visit.
“Uh, how are you doing?” he asked. On the surface, that didn’t seem to be a safe area of conversation since it could lead to that screaming rant over his huge part in her husband’s death. But Egan realized he would welcome the rant.
Because he deserved it.
Alana took a deep breath. “Well, despite nearly everyone in town deciding I should live out the rest of my life as a widow, I’ve started dating again.”
That got his attention. Not because he hadn’t known about the town’s feelings. And not because he believed she shouldn’t have a second chance at romance. But Egan had thought she didn’t want such a chance, that she was still as buried in the past as he was. Apparently not.
“I’m only doing virtual dating for now,” she went on, not sounding especially thrilled with that. “Last week, I had a virtual date with a guy who has six goats and eleven chickens in his one-bedroom apartment in Houston.”
Egan didn’t especially want to smile, but he did, anyway. “Sounds like a prize catch. You’d never have to buy eggs again. Or fertilizer.”
She shrugged. “He was a prize compared to the one I had the week before. Within the first minute of conversation, he wanted to know the circumference of my nipples.” Alana stopped, her eyes widening as if she hadn’t expected to share that.
Egan smiled again, but this one was forced. He
hadn’t wanted Alana to think he was shocked or offended, though he was indeed shocked. He’d never considered nipple size one way or another.
He’d especially never considered anything about Alana’s nipples.
And he hated that was now in his head. That kind of stuff could mess with things that already had a shaky status quo.
“Dating at thirty-five isn’t as much a ‘fish in the sea’ situation as it is more of a, uh, well, swamp,” Alana explained. “Think scaly critters, slithery, that sort of thing, with the potential and hope that some actual fish lingering about will eventually come out of hiding.”
That didn’t sound appealing at all, but then he hadn’t had to hit any of the dating sites. He could thank the eternal string of matchmakers for that. Unlike the widowed Alana, apparently everyone thought a divorced guy in his thirties shouldn’t be solo. Especially a guy who’d had his “heart broken” when his wife had walked out on him right before his best friend had been killed.
“How about you?” she asked, clearly aiming for a change of subject and her own shot at small talk. “Have you jumped into dating waters?”
He shook his head. “Too busy.”
She broke their unwritten rule by locking her gaze with his for a second or two. “Yeah. Busy,” she repeated. And it sounded as if that were code for a whole bunch of things. For instance, wounded. Damaged. Guarded. Guilty.
All of the above applied to him.
It was hard for Egan to think about his happiness when he’d robbed Jack of his. Busy, though, was a much safer term for it.
“Well, I gotta go,” Alana said when the silence turned awkward, as it always did between them. “I’ll let Tilly know you won’t be at the life celebration so she can find someone else to do the unveiling.”
Egan frowned when a thought occurred to him. “She won’t ask you to do it, will she?” Because he couldn’t imagine that it’d be any easier for Alana than it would be for him.
“No.” Another sigh went with that. “Tilly still has me firmly in the ‘grieving widow’ category, which apparently will preclude me from lifting a veil on a painting and doing other things such as dating or appearing too happy when I’m in public.”
He wanted to ask, Aren’t you still a grieving widow? But that would go well beyond small talk. It could lead to an actual conversation that would drag feelings and emotions to the surface. No way did he want to deal with that.
Obviously, Alana wasn’t on board for such a chat, either, because she headed for the door, giving him a forced smile and a quick glance before she left and went to her car. Egan watched her, doling out his own forced smile and what had to be a stupid-looking wave.
Since he didn’t want to stand around and think about this visit, Colleen’s trashed letter—or Alana’s nipples—he grabbed his flight cap and keys so he could go to his truck. He barely made it a step, though, before his phone dinged with another text.
Great. Another photo trip down memory lane.
But it wasn’t.
It was his father’s name on the screen, but there was no picture. Only six words that sent Egan’s heart to his knees.
USA Today bestselling author, Delores Fossen, has sold over 125 novels with millions of copies of her books in print worldwide. She’s received the Booksellers’ Best Award, the Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award and was a finalist for the prestigious Rita ®. In addition, she’s had nearly a hundred short stories and articles published in national magazines. You can contact the author through her webpage at http://www.deloresfossen.com
My time playing pro hockey will be up soon. I can feel it. And I’ve heard the rumors: he’s too old, he’s had too many injuries, he’s lost his edge. I don’t want to admit it, but they could be right. Next season might be my last.
Or this season. Because of course, this is when the universe decides I need another concussion. It’s a doozy too—the kind that’s going to keep me off skates for a while.
Which is how I end up in a small New England town in the middle of nowhere Vermont, eating every meal at a diner where a grumpy chef from Quebec makes haute cuisine…and burgers. Jean-Claude is funny and charming and—
Okay, I have a crush on a gay man.
This is a new one.
Jean-Claude
Confused straight men are entertaining. But Riley is…fascinating, sexy, and curiously vulnerable. His injury has rocked his confidence a bit, so perhaps he’s in need of a friend. Any friend. Even moi.
I’m an unlikely choice, but maybe he just likes my tuna salad.
No…I think it’s me.
And though I’m happy to help him explore his bisexual curious side, I have career concerns of my own. See, the things I love most about Elmwood seem shaky and uncertain, but not Riley. He’s solid and genuine. Suddenly, this temporary secret liaison feels more real than anything in my life.
I need more than this season. I want it all. With Riley.
Next Season is an MM bisexual-awakening romance featuring a grumpy chef, an injured hockey player, and a big HEA in a small town where anything can happen.
Riley shook his wrist and stole a glance my way. “You don’t strike me as the type who likes to follow rules.”
“Not true. Religion was a big part of my life when I was a child. Church on Sundays and high holidays, Catholic school. I always did well with structure and discipline. Hockey gave me that too. The practicing, the camaraderie…the game is always bigger than one player, but your contribution matters. It’s like that in a kitchen too. Everyone has a role to play, and we’re better at it when we work as a team. Rules are good, but…” I pulled the dough from him and grinned. “It’s fun to break them.”
He snickered, diligently pushing and folding the dough. “Uh-huh. Now, me? I was a quintessential rule follower. Even after I left home, I made my own rules about…everything in my life. Food restrictions, daily exercise, sleep, alcohol…I even had a no masturbation rule twenty-four hours before a game.”
I wrinkled my nose in distaste. “Is this some kind of testosterone bullshit?”
He blushed, and it was so fucking cute I couldn’t resist looping my arm around his waist, nuzzling his neck, and pressing kisses behind his ear.
“Cut it out.” He wriggled in my arms, then leaned against me. “To be honest, I got carried away with the rules. I have a mild obsessive-compulsive streak, and I’m hard on myself. I was like this as a kid too—always trying to be the best and do the best. It’s fucking exhausting.”
“I bet. I can’t relate. I was terrible.” I sighed. “My poor parents. I was the kid who fell asleep in church, ditched school to smoke with my hooligan friends, and the D-man who showed much promise, but spent far too much time in the penalty box for using my fists instead of my brains. It’s not that I didn’t want to follow rules, but some of them seemed pointless to me.”
“Yeah, that sounds more like you.”
“Oui. I had too much energy or not enough. I never got the balance right until I worked in a kitchen and found out the hard way that everything I touched would turn to shit if I didn’t pay attention. So I learned to be patient and put in the work. And because of that, I don’t have to cross my fingers or double-check my recipes. I know this bread will be amazing…unless you fucked it up somehow.”
Riley swatted my ass with a dish towel. “I made it better. Admit it.”
“We shall see.”
*****
Review:
I loved this story. It’s low angst, so sweet, and I didn’t even mind that 90% of it is just the two of them together (although seeing JC interact with others is a hoot and a half). It is a joy getting to know all of JC’s secrets as Riley gets him to open up bit by bit. He had a few forks in the road that helped make him into the grumpy, caring, funny man he is today.
Riley is impatient to get back on the ice, but JC proves to be a good distraction. Maybe too good as Riley starts to realize that his feelings are turning a direction he didn’t anticipate. I didn’t mind that Hayes lets them explore this new side to Riley without a lot of drama. He just goes with the flow, evaluating his comfort level every step of the way, and JC’s calm support definitely helps as things get steadily more steamy.
When I read You, Again I felt that any issues with the book were squarely on me and I was right. With this follow up book Hayes reminds me what I like so much about her stories. Her MCs are great together – I love JC’s playfully gruff personality and Riley is a superstitious mess as he faces his future & his feelings for JC. Together, they are loving, so supportive, and they made me very happy. I’m excited that there’s a holiday story coming soon because I’m ready to get back to Elmwood.
*****
Author Info:
Lane Hayes loves a good romance! An avid reader from an early age, she has always been drawn to well-told love story with beautifully written characters. She loves wine, chocolate and travel (in no particular order). Lane lives in Southern California with her amazing husband and her fabulous pup, George.
Romantic Reads and Such 