Now if only he could keep his mind off childhood friend Callie Baker. Especially since she’s asked him for a big chunk of his spare time to help save her family business.
Once the town bad girl, Callie has had to get her act together to keep Antiques in Flight airport from falling apart. Swallowing her pride to ask for Trevor’s help is the hardest thing she’s ever done—next to trying to forget the sizzling kiss they shared two years ago.
Working side by side leads to a complicated dance of almost-moments, until their repressed urges finally break free. But just as Trevor begins to think staying for good might be the right path, Callie closes herself off, afraid to believe in promises…even Trevor’s.
Warning: A woman who’d rather face an airplane engine than falling for her best friend, a man who’d rather face a gun to his head than going home, and a love that will test what they both want.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Flight Risk:
“What do you think?”
She looked at Trevor, really looked at him. The way his black hair was starting to grow out, enough that if she ran her fingers through it, it wouldn’t feel scratchy. His eyes were focused on the mess of the basement, and they were so blue it didn’t seem natural.
Broad shoulders tapered down, and his white T-shirt clung to his flat stomach, hard muscle under smooth skin. From all the work outside at AIF, his previously fair skin was now tanned.
What was so wrong with wanting him? With, for once, taking what she wanted? New leaf? Fuck it. She wanted something more than this new leaf of feeling sad and doing the right damn thing, she wanted to feel something besides all the bad.
Changing? Yes, she was changing. Healing from years of loss and pain and not knowing what to do with it all. Why not do something good, experience something amazing in the midst of all this new, hard stuff?
“I think you should kiss me.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out other than something akin to a squeak. It made her smile because it made her feel powerful. And it made her feel good.
She didn’t give him a chance to act or not act beyond that little squeak. She fisted her hands in his shirt and pulled his mouth to hers.
There was nothing tentative in her movement, much like her grief-fueled kiss years ago. But, it was different. She felt different. There was no alcohol prompting her decision, no debilitating sadness weighing down her limbs. This wasn’t desperation. No, this was freedom, and as Trevor’s lips began to move against hers, as his arm banded around her waist, she felt only one thing.
Good.
Callie gripped Trevor’s arms, enjoyed the hard muscle there as his teeth scraped against her bottom lip. Some sound came out of her she wasn’t familiar with, almost akin to a whimper as Trevor pushed her against the cement wall.
His hands roamed down and cupped her ass so that they were pressed hard together, center to center. She could feel his erection, and the thought of having him inside her had that strange noise escaping her throat again.
His tongue tangled with hers and his hands slid back up, over her sides and across her ribcage. She arched toward him, desperate for something, anything more. One hand cupped her breast and explored it until he found the sensitive nipple, while his other hand cupped her neck and pulled her mouth harder to his.
“Callie.” Her name from his lips, said so rough, so desperate, had the heat in her core exploding to something almost unbearable. Then he let his teeth scrape down the side of her neck and she was sure she was going to explode right there.
“Put your legs around me,” he instructed in a voice she had never heard. It was dark and authoritative and pretty much the sexiest thing ever.
She wasn’t used to following orders, but she was pretty sure she’d do just about anything for that voice.
When she hooked her legs around him and he lifted her off the ground, it was kind of hard to catch her breath. Until they crashed into the long table full of random rusty airplane parts.
Parts rattled onto the ground, Trevor all but dropped her, and she awkwardly found her footing before falling on her ass.
A laugh bubbled up through arousal as she found her balance by gripping the table. “Well, shit.” But his hands were on her again, on her waist, pulling her back into him and any laughter was forgotten. “Hold on a sec,” she muttered, narrowly missing stepping on a few pointy screws.
“I know, I know.” His hands dropped from her waist and he stepped away, strangely agitated. “You’re going to say we shouldn’t do this because it’ll wreck our friendship and I’m leaving in a few months and—”
Shocked at the sudden change in everything, and that he was putting words in her mouth, Callie stood where she was and put her hands on her hips. “Actually, I was going to say we need to be careful or one of us will need a tetanus shot.” She gestured at the mess around them and watched as he looked at it, his eyes refocusing on something other than her.
When he looked up at her, eyes dark and intense and so incredibly blue, she let out a long, steadying breath. She could practically read his mind. And his mind was shouting abort.
Without a shadow of a doubt she knew Trevor was about to pull the rug out from her. Again.
Stockings
Mackenzie McKade
Where there’s smoke, there’s trouble.
Whispering Cove, Book 8
Tempest Sky has forgotten how to stop running, but when her RV breaks down on the way to a huge Winter Craft Show, she has no choice. Repairs require cash. Getting it means setting up shop on the spot to sell her hand-blown glass.
It’s not too surprising that one of Whispering Cove’s finest has a problem with that. Behind the sexy cop’s sizzling scrutiny, the truth is loud and clear. “Her kind” isn’t welcome here.
Officer Leo Caan can smell trouble a mile away, and it’s rolling off Miss Sky like the smoke from her RV’s blown engine. The crowds gathering around her impromptu studio are a public nuisance. Privately, her sassy, bold sexiness is an uncomfortable surprise. If he didn’t know better, he could swear he’s attracted to the woman.
Yet every time they meet—and clash—it’s like water on hot glass. Pure steam. And it’s a clear signal for the town grandfathers to gear up for a little holiday matchmaking…
Warning: Get ready for an explosion of emotions between a by-the-book police officer and a secretive runaway masquerading as a gothic chick. They might be at odds, but that doesn’t stop the sparks of their fiery passion from leading them down the same sensual path.
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B
Cincinnati OH 45249
Stockings
Copyright © 2013 by Mackenzie McKade
ISBN: 978-1-61922-105-5
Edited by Tera Kleinfelter
Cover by Lyn Taylor
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: November 2013
www.samhainpublishing.com
Table of Contents
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
About the
Author
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Stockings (Whispering Cove) Page 14