LOVE AND SECOND CHANCES ARE NEVER FREE For the five kids who live at St. Jude’s Home for Court Placed Juveniles, life is a nightmare. Carissa, the youngest, has been there the longest. And barely speaks. Rosa is sixteen and pregnant. Simon keeps his head down and studies, hoping to get back the life he lost. Beth and Tommy, in the middle of the darkness, have found each other, and all they want is to be together. But when they get caught making out at school, it puts everyone in danger. Tommy is used to the beatings from their foster father, but when Beth is singled out for punishment, Tommy can’t sit back and let it happen. AND ALL DEBTS MUST BE PAID What happens that night rips apart the lives of the five teenagers forever. After the blood has been spilled, a bargain is made. A deal with the devil that should have solved things. It should have fixed everything. But nothing is free - not love, not innocence, and certainly not freedom. And sooner or later, all debts must be paid...
 
“What do you want, Tommy?” she breathed. So close. So beautiful. With her free hand she took off her glasses and tossed them on the ground. Her eyes, lined in black liner raked over me. And mine raked over her. “You,” I said, so raw I was practically inside out. “Just once.” She laughed low in her throat. “You have a few questions you want answered, do you?” she asked. “Don’t you?” “God yes.” She stepped forward until she was nearly touching me. It took my inhale for my chest to brush hers. I exhaled and our bodies retreated. She inhaled and we touched. Exhaled and retreated. We each did it again. And then again. Breathing each other in, in turns. Finally it wasn’t enough and I stepped toward her, and my cock pressed against her stomach and she pushed against me. Her breasts and belly imprinted on my skin. “One time,” she said. “One time and we go back to our lives and get on with things. I’m going to forget you, Tommy. And you’re going to forget me.” I doubted it, but I wasn’t going to argue. Not with my dick pushed up against the tight muscles of her stomach. Not with her breath, sweet from the pop and the candy she’d eaten, making me crazy. “I’m serious, Tommy,” she said as if she could read my mind. “I don’t want to be hurt anymore, and I really, really don’t want to hurt you anymore. Promise you’ll forget me.” “I promise,” I said, because when threatened with the idea of hurting her, I’d agree to anything to stop that. “I’ll forget you, right after I fuck you.”

Carrie Ann Ryan's INKED EXPRESSIONS releases June 6th - but we have plenty of exciting to content to tide you over until then! You can read the first chapter of INKED EXPRESSIONS below, see the book trailer, and find out who your Montgomery Ink hero is - and which Montgomery Ink heroine you're most like!

 

About INKED EXPRESSIONS

 

Read the First Chapter of INKED EXPRESSIONS

Then The babies kicked, sending a shockwave through Everly Law’s bladder. She winced, rubbed the large swell of her stomach, and tried to remember the last time she’d seen her feet. “Storm?” she called out, now running a hand down her back since that ached, as well. Being eight months pregnant with twins wasn’t an easy task. “Yeah?” her husband’s best friend called out from the back of the house. “You need me?” That man, she thought with a smile. He always put everyone else first no matter what. Here he was on his evening off, hanging out at her house making sure things were ready for the new babies and finishing up the back deck that Jackson had never gotten around to. She honestly didn’t know why the man was single. Some woman should have snatched him up years ago. “I just need you to tell me if my shoes match,” she yelled back. He chuckled as he made his way into the living room where she stood, sorting through the mail. “Your shoes match, Ev. I would have told you if they didn’t.” She rolled her eyes. “You say that, but I still remember the time you let Jackson walk around campus with toilet paper tucked into the back of his pants.” While she was a few years younger than both Jackson and Storm, she’d been an undergraduate at the University of Denver while both men were in graduate school finishing up their degrees— Storm his Master’s in Architecture, Jackson his Ph.D. in Anthropology. From the moment she’d begun dating Jackson over a decade ago, Storm had been a part of their lives. The men had been childhood friends, and as such, she’d formed a friendship with Storm also, though it was nothing like what the two men shared. Storm ran a hand over her belly— the only person other than Jackson she’d ever allow to do that— and smiled. “Jackson deserved that. He pissed me off that morning.” He shrugged, his dark hair falling over his forehead. The man needed a haircut, but he seemed to like it longer on the top than the sides anyway. “I don’t even remember what he did, but I remember that not telling him about what he missed was decent revenge. I’d never do something like that to you.” He winked, those blue eyes of his sparkling. “Not because I’m a nice guy, but because I’m pretty sure you could take me.” She waved her fist at him, her fingers so swollen she couldn’t even wear her wedding ring. “And don’t you forget it, Storm Montgomery.” He let out a breath and rubbed her belly again. The babies rolled, enjoying Uncle Storm’s touch, apparently, since they weren’t kicking her bladder again at the moment. “Your shoes match, and you even have pants on, but how about you relieve my stress and sit down on the couch while you look at the mail. You’re like days from your due date and starting to freak me out.” She let him lead her to the couch since he’d just annoy her if she didn’t— though her ankles had swollen up like her hands, so maybe he wasn’t all that wrong about her needing to sit down. “I’m a couple of weeks away, Storm, not days,” she countered once he’d settled her on the couch with a couple of throw pillows at her sides. “You’re having twins, and they don’t usually like to take their time. Believe me, I know. I am a twin.” He winked again, and she snorted. “Your poor mother,” Everly teased. “Not only twins with you and Wes, but eight children altogether. I have no idea how she did it.” She rubbed her belly, that familiar tension sliding through her. “I don’t know how I’m going to do it.” Storm frowned and sat down on the table in front of her. “You’re going to be a great mom, Ev. You already take care of Jackson and me. What’s one more set of boys?” She laughed, despite the worry in her veins. Something was off tonight, she could feel it, but she hoped it was just nerves from the upcoming labor and delivery— and then the whole raising twin boys thing. “You handle yourself just fine, and Jackson’s not that bad.” She rolled her eyes as she said it, and Storm grinned. “I’m serious,” she said with a laugh as Storm shook his head. “Jackson is always in his head, thinking and working, but he’s not immature or anything. I just like to make sure he’s taken care of because he sometimes forgets daily things.” Storm narrowed his eyes. “And who is taking care of you?” You are. She blinked at that thought and firmly put it away. “Jackson takes care of me, as well. And now we’ll both take care of these babies.” Storm nodded. “And I take it he won’t be going on as many trips as he has been lately? I mean, this is like the fifth or sixth conference he’s flown to since you found out about the twins. I hope he’s just getting it all out of his system before he comes home and stays here for a bit.” There was an edge to his tone that Everly couldn’t place, but she was far too tired to deal with it. The babies had kept her up all night, and she frankly hated having half of the bed empty without Jackson there to warm it. “He said it won’t be as bad when the babies come.” Though Jackson hadn’t sounded all that happy at the time about not being able to do as many guest lectures and conferences, and that did tend to worry her a little. Everly loved the fact that he was so passionate about his work, but she was also happy that he was going to stay at home for longer periods of time to help with their babies. While she knew she was strong and capable, raising twins on her own was not something she desired to do. “I hope so,” Storm grumbled. “A man needs to take care of his family.” Everly sighed. “And a woman needs to do the same. We’re fine, Storm, stop fretting. It’s going to turn that beautiful mane gray one of these days.” His cheeks reddened, and he let out a curse. “You’re just mean, Ev. Plain mean.” “I’ve had to be if I wanted to keep up with you and Jackson.” She frowned and looked down at her watch. “Speaking of Jackson, he was supposed to have landed already and he hasn’t texted. I hope his flight isn’t delayed.” Storm stood up and rubbed his back. “He probably just forgot. You know Jackson.” She did, sadly, so him not texting or calling wasn’t all that surprising. He just got so in his head with his work, he forgot those around him some days. Another thing she hoped would change with the arrival of the twins. He seemed so excited about them, so she figured they would at least keep him out of his head for longer periods of time than he was now. “ Thanks for taking care of me, Storm,” Everly said after a moment. “And taking care of the back deck tonight, though I know you’re not really in the mood.” He shrugged. “It needed to be fixed since that bottom step rotted out. Jackson’s not exactly handy, and I do happen to own half a construction business. It’s sort of my thing.” He rubbed his back again, and Everly frowned. “What’s wrong? Did you hurt yourself?” She tried to lever herself up, but he held up a hand. “I’m fine, Ev. Don’t get up and jostle the babies. I’m just a little sore, is all. Nothing a few stretches won’t fix.” “Are you sure you should be working on the deck tonight, then?” she asked, worried. “You’re the architect of Montgomery Inc., not the contractor, so I don’t know how much pressure you usually put on your back if you’re this sore. I don’t want you hurting yourself.” He fisted his hands for a moment before stuffing them into his pockets. “I’m fine, Ev. Stop fretting. Just sit there and relax and before you know it, Jackson will be home, and your deck will be ready for you to actually stand on.” She huffed a breath. “If that’s some kind of fat joke, I’ll hoist myself off this couch and kick your ass right now. Don’t think I won’t.” He pulled his hands out of his pockets and held them up in mock surrender. “Dear God, woman. I would never make a fat joke about a lady, let alone a pregnant one. I have three sisters and a mother who can kick my ass just like you can. I know better.” She smiled sweetly. “I’m glad they taught you a few things.” He muttered under his breath as he walked away, and Everly grinned, feeling a little better than she had before, though she wasn’t about to tell him that her sitting down had helped. There was only so much ego stroking she could handle. The doorbell rang a few minutes later, and she frowned. She wasn’t sure who it could be, but Jackson’s parents did live a few miles away and liked to show up unannounced. Just thinking about that set her teeth on edge, so she ignored it and somehow levered herself off the couch. She wasn’t sure Storm could hear the doorbell from outside, and since it was her house, after all, she might as well answer it. Everly waddled over and opened the door, blinking hard at the sight in front of her. The two officers gave her a sad smile, their chests broad as they took deep breaths. Her hands shook as she gripped the doorknob with one, the frame with the other. “Can I help you?” “Mrs. Law?” the older of the two officers said softly. “May we come in?” Everly’s throat went dry, and she tried to keep the sense of foreboding from rushing into her, but she couldn’t quite manage it— or think. “What’s going on, officers?” Storm asked from behind her. He put his hand on her shoulder, steadying her. Everly’s knees went weak, and she leaned into him, knowing she couldn’t stand on her own. Both men looked up at Storm, frowns on their faces. “We need to speak to Mrs. Law. May we come in?” “That way, she’s not on her feet,” the younger one added softly, and Everly’s heart raced. She moved back, pushing Storm out of the way softly. “Come in,” she whispered, her voice hollow. The two officers could have been there for any number of reasons, and yet Everly knew. She knew that no matter what happened next, her life would forever be altered. As soon as they sat down, the officers spoke, and Storm gripped Everly’s hands, but she couldn’t hear anyone clearly. It was as if she were in a vacuum and everything was taking longer to reach her ears than normal. Her husband was dead. Gone before she could take her next breath. The commuter plane that Jackson had been on had crashed outside of Boston. There were no survivors. No hope of finding her husband alive and whole, or even his body to put to rest. The babies kicked at her bladder again, and she pressed her hand against her stomach, numb yet knowing she had no right to be that way. She couldn’t sit here and listen to them talk of grief councilors and who would be in touch with her shortly. Storm spoke for her, and she couldn’t care. She’d deal with everything later. Right now, she needed to protect her children. Jackson’s babies. Babies he’d never see. Never hold. Never know. She stood up then, only just aware that she’d interrupted whatever the men in the room had been saying. “I have to pee,” she blurted. The officers gave her an odd look, but Storm kept his grip on her hand. “Everly.” His voice was deep, soothing, and a little bit worried. Yet she couldn’t focus on that. “I need to take care of the babies,” she rasped. “I’ll… I’ll be right back. Can you…” She swallowed hard. “Can you take care of… just take care of it?” He nodded before letting her hand go, and she waddled away from the living room, not looking at the officers who sat on her soft loveseat. Storm would take care of them and tell her what she needed to do. She couldn’t focus on anything else just then, only her babies. They were the most important things. Tears slid down her cheeks as she locked herself in the hall powder room, her legs shaking. The numbness settled in once more, and she looked at herself in the mirror, wondering who stared back at her, because that wasn’t the Everly she knew. Jackson is gone, she reminded herself. Gone. And when the pinch inside her echoed throughout her body and liquid pooled around her feet, she once again knew nothing would ever be the same. The babies were coming, but Jackson wasn’t. He never would be. And Everly wept.   Now “I need you to breathe in, baby,” Everly said softly as she held Nathan to her chest. Her three-year-old wheezed into the nebulizer, and she tried not to let herself go numb again. She refused to allow that sensation to take hold as it had once before. She didn’t have time to ignore the panic running through her veins, but she could take that panic and turn it into the focus she needed. Nathan looked up at her, his big eyes full of fear, an emotion that made her want to cry right along with him. James, her other sweet baby boy, held onto her shirt from where he stood beside the bed, tears running down his face. We’ve all been here before, she thought, though tonight seemed like a far worse asthma attack than usual. She held back a curse and bundled Nathan in a blanket in her arms. “Okay, Nathan honey, we’re going to go to the doctor just to make sure you’re okay.” She kissed his little face, a thousand things going through her mind as to what needed to be done. “Uncle Storm,” James said from her side. “I want Uncle Storm.” Everly looked down at James before looking at Nathan, who nodded beneath the mask. She honestly didn’t want to call Storm because that’s all she’d been doing for the past three years, at least until a month ago, but tonight wasn’t about her. It was about her boys and the fact that, frankly, she needed help. “I’ll call from the car, now come on, babies. Let’s go.” She bundled them up quickly and got them into the car within five minutes. The fact that she’d gotten into such a routine because of her two boys’ health issues made her heart hurt, but she ignored it. The twins came first. Always. And that meant if she had to call Storm for help once again, she would. Even if it pained her to do so.  

See the INKED EXPRESSIONS trailer

 
 

About Carrie Ann Ryan

Carrie Ann Ryan is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of contemporary and paranormal romance. Her works include the Montgomery Ink, Redwood Pack, Talon Pack, and Gallagher Brothers series, which have sold over 2.0 million books worldwide. She started writing while in graduate school for her advanced degree in chemistry and hasn’t stopped since. Carrie Ann has written over fifty novels and novellas with more in the works. When she’s not writing about bearded tattooed men or alpha wolves that need to find their mates, she’s reading as much as she can and exploring the world of baking and gourmet cooking.

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Born and raised in Texas, C.C. Wood writes saucy paranormal and contemporary romances featuring strong, sassy women and the men that love them. If you ever meet C.C. in person, keep in mind that many of her characters are based on people she knows, so anything you say or do is likely to end up in a book one day. A self-professed hermit, C.C. loves to stay home, where she reads, writes, cooks, and watches TV. She can usually be found drinking coffee or wine as she spends time with her hubby, daughter, and two beagles.

Title: Musings: An Argyle Empire Anthology

Authors: Becca Vry, Kris Babe, Shari Ivey, Tara Severance, Susan K Swords, Jennifer Locklear, Morgan Locklear

Designer: Jada D'Lee Designs

Genre: Comedy. Romance. Suspense. Fantasy. Drama. Prose.

Release Date: June 20

Seven friends inspired to raise awareness and funds for homeless youth in crisis.

Seven authors with a love for storytelling.

Nine original stories with themes every reader will love.

Comedy. Romance. Suspense. Fantasy. Drama. Prose.

Individual reflections combined into an eclectic collection.

All proceeds to benefit the Philadelphia chapter of Covenant House, in loving memory of Terry Aisenstein.

Foreword by Sylvain Reynard.

Musings Included: Kris Babe: Walking After Midnight Shari Ivey: Stranger in a Stranger Land Jennifer Locklear: Aurora Morgan Locklear: House Rules Tara Severance: Slash Pine Susan K. Swords: Better Than Yes Susan K. Swords: Everyone Deserves an HEA Becca Vry: Hopescapes Morgan Locklear & Susan K. Swords: STUD

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BECCA VRY

A Chicago native who prefers highrise living and hasn't owned or driven a car in over twenty years, Vry is a married, stay-at-home mother of two daughters. When not doing the mom thing, she can be found at Art Galleries, poetry readings, creating something on a canvas or through her keyboard, bounding in the mosh pit at a concert with her beloved husband Maximilian, or on the dance floor of her favorite Chicago Goth/Industrial haunts. No matter the setting, she is usually wearing black and her sidewalk-stomping Doc Martens.

Vry is now branching out into original prose with her first release, Hopescapes. It's an inspirational short story that will appear in Musings: An Argyle Empire Anthology. The story is about the evolution of lifescapes and how the promise of new beginnings inspire many dreamscapes. The theme of this story centers on emerging from the embers of profound loss and hopelessness, to realizing the importance of survival, ongoingness, and the power that comes from re-learning the language of happiness...Two strangers discover that the journey to happiness often comes at a tragic price – the conversation between them, and the connections they realize they share, will alter their perspectives in the most unexpected ways. They will never look at the Chicago skyline, or the broadening hopescapes that expand before them, in the same way ever again.

Vry hopes to release a couple of steamy romances in the near future...if her muse cooperates.

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KRIS BABE

Reader, writer, editor. Marketer by day. Politically opinionated. Not fully dressed without a scarf.

So many books, so little time. And so many favorites: The Blind Assassin, Jane Eyre, The Poisonwood Bible, The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, The Goldfinch, The Gargoyle, The Dead, the vastly underappreciated Forsyte Saga, almost everything by Dickens.

Outlander and Twific, Shakespeare and Tolkien. IKR?

Yes, I’ve read Ulysses. Yes, I liked the Dublin Murder Squad series better. (And I never did read Finnegan’s Wake—sorry, Professor Boyle).

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SHARI IVEY

A graduate of Valparaiso University, I have dabbled in creative writing on and off since middle school days (first place in that 8th-grade creative writing contest!). My novella, Stranger in a Stranger Land, in Musings: An Argyle Empire Anthology, is my first published work.

When not working or writing, I am an avid music fan, concert goer, television binger and movie watcher. I am divorced with five children - two furry, three not. I am also probably the person in the car next to you, singing like a mad woman or cursing like a sailor.

My genre tends toward fantasy, paranormal and supernatural.

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TARA SEVERANCE

Tara Severance writes in her scant spare time, hoping that one day she'll be able to quit her day job. The Short suspense story, Slash Pine, is featured in the Musings Anthology. If you love mysteries that might be happening in your own backyard, you'll find something here.

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SUSAN K SWORDS

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Jennifer Locklear

Jennifer Locklear lives in the Pacific Northwest region of the United States. She married her high school sweetheart, Morgan, in 1995. She is the mother of two children, a son and daughter.

Jennifer enjoyed creative writing as an adolescent, but set aside her favorite hobby to concentrate on college studies, career and family. In 2010, she rediscovered her passion for writing when her husband recruited her to edit his own stories. They co-authored and published their debut novel, Exposure, in 2014.

Since 2000, Jennifer has been employed in fundraising and development for a non-profit organization. She has been a contributing reviewer for the “Bookish Temptations” book blog and is a founding moderator of “Argyle Empire,” an approved fan site for author Sylvain Reynard. She also enjoys participating in charitable activities, both locally and online.

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MORGAN LOCKLEAR

Morgan and Jennifer Locklear met in 1989 as teenagers and became high school sweethearts. They have been married since 1995 and live in the Pacific Northwest region of the United States with their two children, a son and daughter.

Although both enjoyed creative writing in their youth, they have only been working as a writing team since 2010. Since then they have created a dozen full-length and short stories together.

Jennifer has been employed in fundraising and development for a non-profit organization since 2000. She also enjoys participating in charitable activities, both locally and online. In her (limited) free time she is an avid reader.

Morgan has been employed in the hospitality industry since 1998. He has been active in the local performing arts community since childhood with many acting and directing credits to his name. He is also a musician and songwriter and has recorded 6 albums.

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Hosted By:

AUTHOR BIO As a USA Today Bestselling author, I write stories that are deeply emotional with flawed characters, because humans ARE flawed and if we read about perfect characters living in their perfect world, first of all, snoozer, but secondly, we never experience the gratification of redemption. Outside of writing, I’m just a regular ol’ Midwest girl who likes Game of Thrones and am obsessed with Modern Family and The Goldbergs. I run, I eat, I run, I eat. It’s a vicous cycle. I love carbs, but there’s love-hate relationship with my ass and thighs. Mostly hate. I like a good cocktail (oh hell…who am I kidding? I love any cocktail). I’m a huge creature of habit, but I’ll tell you I’m flexible. I read every single day and if I don’t get a chance…watch the hell out. My iPad and me: BFFs. I’m direct and I make no apologies for it. I swear too much. I love alternative music and in my next life I want to be a bad-ass female rocker. I hate, hate, hate spiders, telemarketers, liver, acne, winter and loose hairs that fall down my shirt (don’t ask, it’s a thing).

AUTHOR LINKS Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/KL-Kreig/808927362462053 Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/646655825434751/ Website: http://klkreig.com Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/9845429.K_L_Kreig Twitter: https://twitter.com/klkreig Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/klkreig/

After the Scrum

The Blackbird Anthology (Books 1 - 6) (Blackbird Series)

Notice

by K. Webster Publication Date: June 6, 2017 Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Dark Romance, Suspense

About K. Webster

K Webster is the author of dozens romance books in many different genres including contemporary romance, historical romance, paranormal romance, and erotic romance. When not spending time with her husband of twelve years and two adorable children, she’s active on social media connecting with her readers. Her other passions besides writing include reading and graphic design. K can always be found in front of her computer chasing her next idea and taking action. She looks forward to the day when she will see one of her titles on the big screen. You can easily find K Webster on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, and Goodreads! Website: www.authorkwebster.com Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/bllgoP

BACKSEAT WITH THE BILLIONAIRE

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A war is brewing. Kennedy is one of the last known Druids. Wanted dead by the Seelie Queen and as a coveted asset to defeat this cruel ruler, Kennedy has become a mark. Especially by a sexy, merciless Dark Dweller, Lorcan Dragen. Kidnapped and taken prisoner, Kennedy’s life takes a dramatic turn, down a path she never imagined. Spending time with a man who killed her best friend’s mother and her friend, she knows he is not someone she should care about. But the longer she spends with her enemy, the more her feelings blur the line between what is right and wrong, what is true and what is not. As her magic grows, so does the shy, nerdy girl, and she soon realizes nothing on a list or in a book will prepare her for what is ahead. Even her own feelings.

♚♚♚

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Cheater’s Regret, an all-new sexy standalone from #1 New York Times Bestseller Rachel Van Dyken is available now on Amazon & Free in Kindle Unlimited!!

Cheater’s Regret by Rachel Van Dyken Release Date: May 23rd

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Excerpt:

“You want to do this right now?” He was still whispering as he slowly extended his large perfect surgeon’s hands out to the spider, and suddenly, I realized how this would end. The spider would bite him. Thatch’s bite would get infected. And he wouldn’t be able to do his job. Or pay off his student loans. Leaving him in debt. On the street. Naked. Dead. Thatch was going to die. “Wait!” I slowly lowered my body to the floor. Fear pounded in my ears as I held out my hands and Charlie lumbered onto my palms. It tickled. It would be nice if I weren’t so terrified of spiders. Shaking, I walked over to the bucket and gently set him inside, this time, right side up so Thatch could transport him later. Just as I pulled my hands away, something sharp dug into my skin. “Mother fu—” Thatch grabbed me just before I collapsed against the floor, hands shaking and pain searing through my right thumb. Before I knew what was happening, Thatch was carrying me over to the couch. Soft pillows met my back as he grabbed my thumb and held it close to his face. “Am I going to die?” I whimpered. “Because the Discovery Channel [PS1] said tarantula bites feel like bee stings—they’re liars from the pit of hell!” Thatch narrowed his eyes at the puffy red mark and then slowly dropped my hand to my side. “You’ll live.” “Well, that’s encouraging. Don’t I at least get a sticker? A sucker? For saving your life?” “You?” He chuckled and joined me on the couch. “Saved my life by getting bit by a tarantula?” “Keep up!” Talking was at least distracting me from the throbbing pain. At least it had dulled a bit, though the fact that I had spider venom in my hand made me cringe. “If it bit you, you wouldn’t be able to do your job.” He seemed thoughtful. “You mean I’d finally get a vacation where I’m allowed to sleep for longer than three hours?” “Well, when you put it that way,” I grumbled, and tried to cross my arm, then hissed as pain exploded down my hand. He grabbed it again. “At least the venom is weak, it’s really just the puncture wound from the spider’s fangs that causes the swelling.” “Well, that’s disappointing on so many levels. I save your life and I don’t even get to turn into Spider-Man.” “Tough luck, maybe next time.” He winked. It was nice. Sitting with him on the couch. My legs on his lap. My eyes focused on his mouth. Abort! Abort! I quickly looked away but not fast enough—he caught me staring where I shouldn’t have been staring, and I felt like a complete loser for still lusting after him the way I was. What was it about Thatch? Other than everything? He was brilliant. Hardworking. Gorgeous. And he fought spiders on behalf of a girl he’d dumped. Damn it. “This leads nowhere,” he said in a hollow voice. “You understand that, right?” It was like he’d just handed me the world’s happiest balloon and then popped it with a giant needle. I was utterly defeated and deflated. Even though I knew going into this there was no hope of us getting back together, I’d officially turned into that sad, pathetic clinger. I’d always made fun of “those girls.” And now “that girl” stared back at me in my own stupid mirror. I let out a long sigh and nodded slowly. “This is strictly business, Thatch. You know how important this class is to me, how important getting my MBA is to me.” He looked away, his jaw clenched. “Parents still MIA for the most part?” I nodded. “And the reelection, I imagine your dad wants you to join his mayoral campaign again?” A sick feeling grew in the pit of my stomach. To my parents, I was a trophy. Something shiny and pretty they could trot out to gain votes from families who appreciated their having taken time out of their busy lives to sire a child. Granted, I knew my parents loved me. They just loved me in their own way—the only way they knew how. “I have to graduate,” I stressed again. “The job market’s fierce out there, and an MBA will help with that. The sooner I graduate, the sooner I can start my own life away from all of this.” I lifted my hands into the air. This just happened to be a mansion. A huge mansion. With three interconnected swimming pools. A tennis court. Two movie rooms. And a bowling alley. I think I’d prefer anything but this. If I could choose to live in a dump with my parents and we’d be a family or I could have a mansion and scarcely see them. I’d choose the dump every time. “I’ll do my best to help you.” He lifted my legs off his lap. “But first, we ride.” I blushed. I couldn’t help it. “You can’t do that anymore,” he whispered, his blue eyes piercing. “You can’t blush when I say things like that.” “Sorry.” He muttered a curse and walked away. I could have sworn he adjusted himself near the door, but I was too busy hiding behind the couch to fully commit to ogling him. “Where’s your bike?” he called over his shoulder before turning around. “In the garage. It’s kind of dark now, though, let’s ride tomorrow after work.” I totally said it without stuttering or blushing. “Fine.” He looked exhausted. “Don’t forget the spider.” I pointed at the bucket. “And don’t let it loose in nature. We can’t have that bastard procreating with another, smaller spider and creating zombie spider babies that take over the world.” He just stared at me like I’d lost my mind. And then shook his head as a smile played across his face. “You’re entertaining, I’ll give you that.” “I’ll take that as a compliment, thank you.” “It was meant to be one.” We froze, both of us smiling at each other. “Sleep,” I whispered. “You’ve got a busy day tomorrow.” “Yup.” He gripped the bucket in one hand; the muscles in his forearm flexed. “Take some ibuprofen and ice the spider bite. If you feel any muscle weakness or tightness in your chest, let me know and I’ll prescribe you something.” “Ah, the power of the pen.” He rolled his eyes and waved with his free hand. “See you tomorrow morning at eight, Austin.” He hesitated in the doorway. “Be sure to wear something work-appropriate.” “Oh, so you want me to wear a bike uniform?” He flipped me off and quietly shut the door against my laughter.

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Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she's not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor. She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!

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