I might as well permanently add the label “Ex” to my name. I’m an Ex-Mr. Universe. Ex-Mr. Olympus. An Ex-Hollywood Stuntman. But no one from my small hometown cares anything about that. They only care that I’m the ex-boyfriend to the beloved Mayor’s daughter, Elaina Dyker.

And now, ten years later, I’m back, helping my siblings run my mother’s bakery while she takes on chemo. What should have been a routine cupcake delivery turns into utter chaos when the bachelorette party thinks I’m a stripper. And what’s worse? Elaina is the maid of honor.

But the meme about us sure went viral fast. My small hometown has become positively infested with tipsy bridesmaids looking for my erotic cupcakes.

Now Hollywood’s knocking again—and this time they want me and my ex, Mr. Beefcake and Ms. Prude, to star in a reality show.

It could solve all my problems—except her.

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*****

Excerpt:

I arched my brow at her. “I bragged about knowing you so well…but man. I did not see this almond croissant massacre coming. What do you have against almonds? Or was it the amount of butter that offended you? Because as a fitness expert, let me tell you butter isn’t the enemy. Sugar is the enemy.”

She laughed. “I, uh…I might have some anger management issues.”

I took the bag from her and peeked in. There were knuckle marks against the outside of the croissant. Literal knuckle marks. I barked a laugh. “Elaina Dyker. Did you punch the croissant?”

She laughed, pressing her lips together as though this would hide the fact that I saw her adorable little giggle. She brought her thumb and forefinger up beside her temple. “Maybe a little.”“Did you even try a bite?”

She shook her head no. “I like my routine. I like my daily lunch of yogurt and almonds.”

I made a face. Because she had to be exaggerating. Sure…she liked them. But having that same thing every day? Even chocolate cake every day would get tedious. “You can like yogurt and almonds but still indulge every now and then, you know.” I reached in and pinched off a piece of the smashed croissant, holding it out toward her lips. “C’mon. Live a little. I promise you, it is actually healthy, if that’s your concern.” Not that she needed to be concerned about that. “Almond flour. Gluten free. Grain free. Only two net carbs. The only sugar is the honey in the honey roasted almonds and the natural sugar in dates.” Her eyes grew wide at that and I knew I had hooked her.

She reached out her hand to take the piece of croissant from me, but I pulled back. “Nuh-uh,” I teased. “We can’t have your fingers getting sticky. Might ruin that fancy suit you’re wearing.”

She rolled her eyes, but parted her wet lips, her tongue peeking out just enough for me to place the croissant on top of. She moaned as soon as it hit her mouth, and her eyes fell closed as she slowly chewed and swallowed. “That’s…that’s healthy?”

I nodded. “See? I’m not just a pile of muscles. I’ve got some talent, too.”

Her head fell to the side. “I never said you weren’t talented. I just wish you wouldn’t show off quite so much of your other assets.”

I grinned. “I thought you liked my assets?”

“I do,” she answered absentmindedly, then immediately shook her head, realizing what she’d said. “I mean, I did.”

*****

Author Info:

As an author and a story-teller, it is the lifeblood to which my ideas take flight. And I believe in giving credit where credit is due. Occasionally someone (ie – my husband) will try to secretly switch out my beloved regular coffee for decaf. I always know the difference. ALWAYS (I’m looking at you, SEAN).

I am incapable of achieving the perfect ponytail. I’m dyslexic. I can never wear white without spilling on myself. And I’ve never read Pride and Prejudice (gasp!).

When I was younger and stole my mother’s Harlequins to read beneath the covers with a flashlight (seriously, did we ALL do this? I think we did.), I wanted to read about the tough as nails heroine. The perfectly imperfect girl with quirks and attitude and sass. And the anti-heroes who were anything but “Prince Charming.” Forget the knight on a white horse… give me the bad boy on a motorcycle.