The First Time Again: The Braddock Brotherhood, Book 3

by Barbara Meyers

  Still reeling from a high-profile divorce, the college dropout and former pro cheerleader is stumbling through yet another challenge—temporary custody of her nephew, Fletcher. No one knows better than Hayley that she’s not mother material. When she opens the door to her new landlord and old flame, she wonders just how many more past mistakes she is destined to pay for.

  After the death of his wife, Ray Braddock is still putting the pieces back together. Hayley—and the silent little boy at her side—both bristle with emotional barriers so high, it appears no one but him can see that together, three broken people just might make a whole family.

  As she watches Fletcher respond to Ray’s patient care, Hayley’s determination to hold on to her heart begins to soften. But just when she begins to think that Ray is one opportunity she shouldn’t let slip by, Fletcher’s gang-connected father threatens to make her pay for the one good choice she ever made…

  Warning: Touches on issues of death, child abandonment, neglectful parenting. Sensuous love scenes.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for A Forever Kind Of Guy:

  Four-year-old Fletcher stood to the left of the front door, his attention focused on whatever was on the other side of the slender pane of sidelight glass. Hayley moved closer to see a man hunkered on the other side making funny faces at Fletcher. She glanced down to see Fletcher’s reaction. His expression was the one he usually wore of serious concentration, but a ghost of a smile played around his lips. At least Hayley wanted to think he might be close to a smile. It’d been a long time since he had.

  There was no chain on the door, so Hayley debated for a moment about whether to open the door to a strange man. It was broad daylight and he looked harmless enough. He straightened when he heard the deadbolt slide back.

  They stared at each other for what was probably a split second but felt like a lifetime. Hayley felt the ripple run through her. She’d experienced the ripple effect twice in her life. Once with her ex-husband and the first time with—

  “Hi, I’m Ray Braddock,” he began.

  —Ray Braddock when she was fourteen. She’d been a brand new student, a freshman at Jannings High School. He and his twin brother Rick had been the hottest boys in the junior class. She’d worshiped Ray from afar, though she’d never actually met him. But every time she saw him, the ripple effect slammed her full force.

  Okay, she told herself. You can do this. You are not attracted to him. The last thing you need is a man in your life. Men are bad news. Men cause pain. Men mess up your plans. The ripple effect means nothing. The ripple effect is evil.

  “Hayley Christopher.” Good. That’s good. She remembered her manners. She remembered her name. Now if that excitement fluttering in the pit of her stomach would cease and desist, she’d be fine.

  “I know.”

  Her radar shot out a warning. “You know? What do you mean, you know? How would you know my name?”

  “From the property management company. I—”

  “Oh? I can’t believe they gave out my name. They have no right. Who I am and where I live is my business and no one else’s. There must be some kind of law—”

  “Whoa. Slow down there. I hired the property manager. I’m the owner of the property. I live in the other unit.” He nodded toward the other half of the duplex.

  “You—own—wait a minute. What?” The other half of the duplex had been vacant during the short time she’d lived there. Or so she thought.

  As if sensing her distress, Fletcher moved closer to her, wedging himself between her leg and her crutch and clutching her thigh. He sent out one of his trademark, almost inaudible whimpers of inquiry. Awkwardly, she patted his shoulder. “It’s okay, sweetie.”

  Ray rescued her from her confusion. “I was out of town for a while. So I hired the property manager. But I’m back. Starting next month, you can pay your rent directly to me.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  “What happened to you? Do you need to sit down?” Ray gestured at the crutches and Fletcher hanging onto her. “Want me to come in for a minute?”

  Hayley couldn’t take her gaze off her landlord. He’d been good looking as a teenager and he still was. But his handsome face had more character now. Tiny lines radiated from the corners of his eyes. As she recalled, he’d been leaner than his brother, and that hadn’t changed. He looked tanned and strong and capable. But he also looked sad. And a bit lost.

  Maybe that’s what I look like too. It was certainly how she felt most days. Giving herself a mental shake, she tried to regroup and say something reasonably intelligent.

  Inviting him into her personal space was out of the question. “No. That’s okay. I’ll make the rent checks to you from now on. Was there anything else?”

  “Is everything all right with the place? Appliances? Plumbing? Air conditioning?”

  “Everything works. I’m not crazy about some of the decorating choices, but it’s nothing critical.” Except the bathroom wallpaper, she added silently. It’s hideous. She’d seriously considered doing the next tenant a favor by ripping down the hideous wallpaper in the bathroom. Bare drywall would be an improvement over the garish flowered foil.

  “All right, then. Here’s my phone number.” He handed her a plain white business card on which he’d written his name and the number. “Let me know if you have any problems.”

  She took the card. Her fingertips touched his. She ignored her reaction.

  Not.

  “It’s only you and your son, here, right? Fletcher? Is that his name?”

  She glanced down at Fletcher, who was staring up at Ray. “Yes. Uh, well, sort of.”

  Ray’s brow furrowed, but she didn’t feel required to explain her relationship with Fletcher to him. “How do you know his name?”

  “The property manager.”

  “Oh, right. Okay.”

  Ray stood there a moment longer. Hayley wondered what else she should say. She couldn’t think of anything. Her mouth went dry. Her brain became addled. Every nerve ending she possessed went on high alert and sent mixed signals, scrambling her thought process.

  Invite him in.

  Make him go away.

  He’s hot.

  You’ll get burned.

  Step closer.

  Stay away from him.

  “Do I know you?” he asked.

  Hayley stared at him.

  He studied her intently. “You look kind of familiar. Like maybe we’ve met before.”

  Great, she thought. Even relocating this far from Jacksonville, she couldn’t get away from the negative publicity. “Do you follow sports?”

  “Well, yeah—”

  “The Jacksonville Jacks?”

  “Not so much lately—”

  “Then you probably know that according to every reporter in the greater Jacksonville area, I’m the ex-pro cheerleader, gold-digging, cheating hussy their beloved quarterback Trey Christopher divorced. You probably recognize me from some unflattering photos that ran in all those rags the past couple of years.”

  Ray’s gaze remain fixed on her as if he hadn’t been listening. “No, it’s not that.” He cocked his head a bit and narrowed his gaze.

  “What do you mean ‘it’s not that’? What else could it be?”

  “I haven’t read a Jacksonville newspaper in about two years. Are you sure we’ve never met? Maybe when we were younger?”

  He couldn’t possibly remember her, Hayley thought. Why not? Her sub-conscious asked. You remember him.

  “You mean like in high school?”

  “I think I’d remember you if you went to Jannings Point.”

  Hayley’s ankle began to throb, warning her she’d been in an upright position for too long. Plus she needed to leave for work shortly. “I did, but I was a couple of years behind you. I don’t think we ever met.”

  “Maybe not. But I still feel like I know you. Anyway, I’ll see you around, I guess.” Ray turned and exited the small screened porch and headed back to his side of the duple
x. He stopped halfway and turned back to her. “Let me know if you need help with anything.”

  I most certainly will not. She knew from her experience with Trey exactly what happened when she relied on a man. Even if she wasn’t too good at it yet, she relied only on herself now, and her plans called for her to keep it that way.

  Taking care of business may cost him his heart.

  Million Dollar Mistake

  © 2012 Meg Lacey

  Million Dollar Men, Book 1

  In addition to overseeing the financial affairs of the wealthy Kristoff family, Nicholas Demetrious specializes in hauling its rambunctious members out of trouble. Especially his distant cousin, Raven Rutledge.

  The tabloids love her bad-girl antics, sexy pout, and body made for sin. Nicholas would love to spank the bejesus out of her, but this time the situation is too serious to entertain such a fantasy. A lucrative business deal with the Exeters is in jeopardy, and Jackson Exeter Sr.’s ultimatum is clear: Remove this man-eater from my country house, or the deal is off.

  Raven is in way over her head. She accepted the invitation to the Exeter’s Adirondack house party as a refreshing change from her jet-setting lifestyle—until she learns the guest list includes his entire family. His ex-girlfriend. And the junior Exeter’s intention to propose.

  If ever she needed suave, sophisticated Nicholas’s persuasive powers, it’s now. Then he’s there with a plan to get her out of this tangle: sweep her off her feet. But their pretend passion turns all too real. And what started out as a weekend of fun threatens to shatter into betrayal and heartbreak.

  Warning: Contains a tabloid sweetheart who loves to be bad, a sexy hero with little patience for mind games, and a game of strip pool that will make you rethink your weekend plans.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Million Dollar Mistake:

  Nicholas walked over and shut the door, then turned back to Raven. “Your turn, I believe.”

  “I don’t need you to carry me anywhere.”

  “We’ll see about that later,” he said, grinning before strolling back and nodding at the pool table. “Meanwhile, let’s set the game up again. It’s your turn to break.”

  Raven reached for the rack and set up the balls again. “You asked for it.”

  Nicholas chuckled. “Get ready to lose, sweetheart.”

  “Is that a challenge?”

  “Nope, more a number-one fact.”

  Raven picked up the chalk, rubbing it on the tip of her stick as she refocused on the table, then on him.

  As her eyes met his across the green felt table, Nicholas recognized the look—determination mixed with a bit of taunting. Just the attitude he’d come to expect when he goaded her.

  “Facts can be disproved. It all depends on the interpretation.”

  He grinned at her tart response and sparkling eyes. He loved the way she threw herself into things, that joy she could summon on the spur of the moment—and never more than when she was trying to give him a hard time. “Still up for that game of strip pool, sweetheart?”

  Head tilted, she drawled, “Darling, you’d be lucky to have your watch left after I wipe the table with you.”

  “Big talk. Want to put your little black dress where your mouth is?”

  “No.”

  “Afraid?” he taunted.

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “The reason I’m not willing to participate is more basic than that.”

  “Uh-huh. Sure,” he said, knowing his tone would annoy the hell out of her.

  “Strip games of chance are so yesterday.”

  Nicholas laughed. “Great excuse for copping out because you’re afraid.”

  “No, I’m fashionable. That’s a different thing.”

  “Our cousin Darcy fell in love during a game of strip poker.”

  “I don’t intent to repeat his mistake.”

  Nicholas grabbed her arm. “And yet you offered a game to Jackson.”

  She shrugged off his arm instead of answering, did a half-turn and marched around the pool table to line up a better shot. “Are we going to play or talk all night?”

  Nicholas sent her a wolfish smile. “I thought we were playing, sweetheart.”

  Raven almost growled as she drew back to slam her stick against the white cue ball, which responded by galloping down the table and crashing into three other balls causing them to whirl off in all directions but the one direction they were supposed to go. Raven remained hunched over the table as if in pain before straightening to send him a warning look.

  Ducking his head to hide a grin, Nicholas murmured, “Nice shot.”

  Raven curled her lip at him and then practically flounced away from the table, heading straight for the liquor cabinet in the far corner of the room.

  Watching her, Nicholas called, “I could use a refill.”

  She ignored him, taking a small bottle of chilled water from the fridge and guzzling it straight down before she turned back to look at him.

  “Or water would be good, too,” Nicholas said, grinning before bending over the table and calculating his angles to make his shot with his customary panache. The ball disappeared into the pocket. After a quick glance at Raven who was sauntering toward him with her hips rolling in a sensuous movement guaranteed to send blood away from his brain, he shot again, wincing as the next ball missed the pocket by a cat’s whisker.

  “Oh, too bad,” Raven commented, slapping a bottle of water into his hand as he straightened.

  He tucked his stick under his arm and removed the cap. Taking a big gulp, he challenged, “Next time.”

  Raven leaned over until her ripe lips were touching his ear. “We’ll see about that, darling.”

  The game was on, with both taking their time, using all their skill and discipline to win.

  Much later, they were coming down to the final shots. The game was neck and neck.

  “Red in the far right pocket,” Raven announced, surveying the remaining balls on the table as she calculated angles and lined up her shot.

  Nicholas studied the shot. “A bit cocky, aren’t you?”

  “Confident. A little number-one fact of my own,” Raven said, her grin pure recklessness.

  “Five bucks says you don’t make it,” he challenged back.

  “That’s all you can afford?” Raven teased. “Wouldn’t you like to up the stakes?”

  Nicholas studied her. “What have you got in mind?”

  “All or nothing.” Raven threw the words down like a challenge.

  “Like the game you were playing tonight?” Nicholas asked.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Jackson.”

  “Lorianne,” she snapped back.

  He ran his finger over his top lip. “Ah, Lorianne.”

  When he said no more, she finally asked, “What’s up with you and that little blonde? I thought you let that stupid flirting idea go before you left the barn.”

  “I did.”

  “Didn’t look like it.”

  “Darling.” Nicholas smiled. “I do believe you’re jealous.”

  “Of what? Of you?” Raven pushed her hair back. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Oh yes, that’s usually a role the men in your life play, isn’t it?” He offered a look that managed to be disappointed, accusing and amused all at the same time.

  Raven stabbed her finger at him. “You’re a fine one to talk. You haven’t been living like a monk.”

  Nicholas grinned. “There might have been a few—”

  “Blondes. In the past, you were partial to blondes.”

  “Maybe that’s why I find Lorianne so delightful.”

  Raven stared at him for a moment. Then she leaned close to him. “Did you want to kiss her, Nicholas? You looked very attentive. Did she put her lips up and tease you until you wanted to break?”

  He said nothing, just looked at her with an impassive expression on his face. At least he
hoped so. With her alluring mouth so close, his juices were starting to stir.

  She leaned even closer, bringing her lips against his as she nipped his bottom lip then withdrew an inch. “Can she make your blood boil like I can?”

  “What makes you think you can make my blood boil?” he asked, hardly hearing the words because of the roar in his ears.

  “Because of what happens when I do this.” She threw her pool stick to the floor, rose on her tiptoes to slip her arms around his neck and kissed him. What started as a teasing gesture on her part quickly turned into something else as he pulled her against him, sliding his palms down her back to cup her buttocks, pulling her up to press against his growing erection.

  Raven freed her mouth long enough to say, “This is only a demonstration not a—”

  “Shut up,” Nicholas replied, tilting his head to slant his mouth across hers. His tongue teased her lips, opening them as if he was the only man who had the key.

  His lips met hers, sinking into the velvet of them, letting the feel of them soothe him even as they excited his senses. He felt as if he was rounding third and coming home. Here, now with Raven in his arms, with her lips caressing his, with her tongue tangling hotly in his mouth, he lost control. He dropped his guard and just felt, let himself live in the moment. There was no yesterday, no tomorrow, there was only now and—

  “Raven,” he groaned as he pulled her tighter, swinging around to lift her so she sat on the polished cherry ledge of the pool table. He stepped forward, nudging her legs apart until he pressed against her. With a gasp, Raven spread her legs wider then rocked forward against him to clasp her legs around his hips. He fit there as if he’d been born to do so. Just as his hands were born to caress her, he thought, as he slid them up her back and into her hair to hold her head still for his deepening kiss.

  It wasn’t enough.

  Lips, tongue and emotions plunging, he removed the soft cashmere cardigan she wore. His hands returned to caress the warm satin of her skin as he slid them over her shoulders. He drew back and looked at her, taking in her tousled hair wound into wild curls by his restless fingers, her flushed cheeks, her hot swollen mouth and eyes stunned with surprise, dreamy with secrets and clouded with desire. The heart-shaped bodice of the little black dress molded lovingly to her breasts, held there by gravity and the slender straps that caressed her shoulders, straps that his fingers toyed with before sliding underneath.