by Maggie Way
During the short drive back to my office, I managed to shake off whatever reaction I had from Levi’s touch and chalked it all up to a combination of exhaustion and excitement of being around Jake. After parking my car, I flipped the visor down, checking to see if my cheeks had returned to their normal hue, only to realize that for the first time in my life, I’d been kissed by two different men, and reacted to them in quite the same way.
What was I saying? No, they weren’t the same. Levi wasn’t Jake. Jake was sweet and a real gentleman. Levi would jump any woman that batted her lashes his way. Lucky for me, I wasn’t the type of woman who batted lashes at someone like him.
No way.
I went to work without another thought to this ridiculous idea.
After waking up bitterly hungover the morning after agreeing to do Jake’s wedding, Chase had decided that I needed a fresh new me, one with a stronger backbone. I‘d been dragged out of my fuzzy slippers and pink pajamas to join a prestigious gym and enlist in a boot camp called Torture. It hadn't been a misnomer. Every single morning at the unholy hour of five o’clock, Chase shook me out of my bed, poured me into exercise clothes and trainers, shoved pre-workout smoothies into my mouth, and dragged me to (be) Torture(d).
The only cherry-on-top factor was our trainer, a sexy man named Diego, whose gluteal muscles were possibly firmer than marble, and whose skin looked as smooth as silk and the color of milk chocolate. And he always smelled like coconuts.
Since missing this morning’s class due to an impromptu meeting with the chairman of a non-profit organization, Chase and I had to attend the evening class. I was bone-tired but with the afternoon I’d had, I couldn’t help but hope a little bit of Torture would excise all the unwelcomed thoughts in my mind.
After the last cycle of pushups, squats, inclined crunches and lunges, I dragged myself to shower off the smell of a hundred liters of sweat. I took longer than usual and didn’t rush drying my hair.
When I came out of the locker room, I found Chase sipping her post-workout smoothie and eyeing Delicious Diego, who was standing on the other side of the room, talking to a gaggle of his groupies.
Chase offered me an identical drink. "Thanks. I'm starving." As if to prove a point, my stomach grumbled.
"Ladies." That deep baritone resonated in my core, which still ached from the workout.
Chase and I turned to the source—Delicious Diego (DD) was sauntering toward us. Without glancing her way, I knew Chase was unabashedly licking her lips.
"Great job today." DD's smile nearly blinded me. "Chase, your range is excellent..." He turned to me (I bet he didn't have the same praise), and continued, "and Nica, you've managed to keep up with the class. You’re constantly improving every day. I admire that about you." Hot dang, he was a smooth talker.
DD stepped closer to me— I swam in the masculine cologne he wore—and produced a card. I mechanically took it as I drowned in the depths of his chocolate brown eyes. "I'd like you to consider some private lessons with me."
Chase made a choking noise at my side, forcing me to take my eyes off DD. I patted her back. "Sorry, went down the wrong pipe," was her excuse. The smile that broke on her face was suggestive, giving the Joker a run for his money. "I'm gonna wait outside." She traipsed toward the entrance after waggling her eyebrows at me.
The corners of Diego’s lips lifted, producing an achingly drool-worthy smile, paired with a set of dimples on his face. "Or maybe we can have dinner sometime." He didn’t pose it as a question. DD had the right to be confident, but it never came off as arrogant.
"Dinner? Ahm...I...uh...." Was I ready to date another man? I glanced to where Chase was watching with unveiled interest. She gave me a thumb's up. She’d been suggesting I needed to get out there if I wasn’t going to steal Jake back. "Yeah, dinner. Sure."Flipping the card in my hand, I nodded and gulped the lump that formed in my throat, but kept my eyes trained on the embossed letters on his card.
"Wonderful. Have a look at your very busy schedule, and give me a call." As I raised my head, he winked at me, and I could swear my uterus jumped.
I strode away, adding a little bit more sway into my walk, just in case he was still watching.
Chase and I contained ourselves until we reached the car. We didn't stop talking about how hot our trainer was and all the dirty things she would do to him, which made me double over from laughter until we got back to my apartment.
Find out what happens next in Confessions of a Wedding Planner: http://www.michellejoquinn.com/books/bliss-series/
About the Author
Michelle is addicted to romance. She believes in happily ever afters and loves writing about couples who get there.
When not writing, she props her feet up on her favorite lounger and binges on Netflix shows, or reads one or two books at the same time. She enjoys red wine, dark chocolate, cake, and can talk your ears off about delicious food. Travelling is high on her list, whether alone, with friends or family.
Michelle lives in Ontario, Canada with her husband, two amazing children and a cuddly maltese-yorkie dog named Scarlet.
Join Michelle’s Monthly Newsletter: http://bit.ly/MJQUINNNEWSLETTER
* * *
If you liked reading about Darwin and Morgan, find out what happens to their wedding planner, Nica, in Confessions of a Wedding Planner (Bliss Series Book 1).
Link: www.michellejoquinn.com
Sweetest Mistake
A Nolan Brothers Novel - Book Two
by Amy Olle
Chapter One
Emily Cole’s entire life, when tightly folded and crammed, fit inside two suitcases and one overburdened carry-on bag.
A buzz of activity swirled around Cherry Capital Airport’s Baggage Claim B, where Emily waited to retrieve her luggage. The four-hour flight from Tucson to Traverse City, Michigan, had been blessedly uneventful, but Emily was eager to collect her belongings and make the hour-long drive in time to catch the last ferry out to Thief Island.
She pulled her cell phone from her purse and scrolled through her e-mail, searching for her car rental reservation.
Lost in her task, Emily was only dimly aware of the ripple of unease that ran through the small cluster of travelers until, over the whine of the baggage carousel, a smattering of nervous laughter pierced her concentration.
Her head came up, and a sympathetic groan eased from her. Heaps of clothing littered the baggage conveyor belt. The shredded remains of a black suitcase lay among the carnage, looking as though it’d been mauled by a grizzly bear. An array of dark cotton loungewear and crumpled T-shirts inched along. A pair of dingy socks. A lone sneaker—
The air sucked from Emily’s lungs.
That was her canvas sneaker lolling amidst the black yoga pants and gray, shapeless sweatshirts. The cotton T-shirts and durable footwear. A caretaker’s wardrobe.
Her wardrobe. She spotted her plastic-handled hairbrush, teeming with the bright strands of her strawberry-blonde hair, and the red plastic case that held her bite splint.
Emily’s legs turned to pillars of cement and her feet affixed to the hard concrete floor. A pair of shabby panties she should’ve replaced months ago paraded along before the watchful gazes of her fellow travelers.
It was all there. Her entire life. For anyone—for everyone—to see.
With a horrified moan, she squeezed her eyes shut.
Among the wreckage, she spotted her seven-and-a-half inch, twenty-speed, hot pink vibrator.
A woman detached from the crowd and crept forward. She plucked a brown leather bag off the carousel and melted away again into the crush of bodies. Bolstered by her act of courage, a white-haired man in neatly pressed slacks and a crisp dress shirt stepped up to the turnstile. He lifted a black suitcase and, giving the luggage a little jiggle, shook loose one of Emily’s serviceable white bras, which had snagged on the bag’s zipper.
Emily bit back a whimper. She stayed rooted to the spot while her life rolled along the winding carousel, w
atching helplessly as, one by one, suitcases disappeared along with their people.
When finally, only a few pieces of luggage remained on the conveyor belt, Emily snuck a glance left and right. The baggage claim area absent of prying eyes, she slunk toward the massacre on wobbly legs. Her heart thrashed against her ribs as she scooped up an armful of clothing. With no other option, she dumped the load on the ground at her feet and turned back for another armload.
Her course set, she snatched up clothing and household objects with frantic urgency. When a hum of noise pierced the fog of panic surrounding her, she craned her neck to look over her shoulder as a fresh horde of people poured through the gates and spilled into the baggage claim area.
Swallowing a sob, she wrenched back around and grasped blindly at the scattered remains of her pathetic little life.
Her fingers brushed over the silky silicone vibrator, but the moving belt pulled BOB out of her reach before she could grab him. She pitched forward, stretching to snag the device before it slipped behind the black rubber flaps and back into the bowels of the airport.
She watched helplessly as BOB slipped away.
Then a large, tanned hand clamped around the hot pink shaft.
For a split second, she stared at that hand, too shocked and horrified to move. Finally, she lifted her gaze.
The man’s heavily lashed bright green eyes ensnared her.
She reared back. Oh, shit.
His full, pouty mouth pushed up at one corner.
Ohshitohshitohshitohshit.
She recognized Luke Nolan immediately. Hard to forget the most beautiful man she’d ever seen in real life. Words log-jammed somewhere in the circuits between her brain and mouth while she gaped at the perfection of his beautiful face.
The sharp, sculpted lines of his nose and jaw stood in defiance to the plump softness of his lips and the smooth, rounded planes of his high cheekbones. His richly dark hair and bronzed skin acted like a canvas that only intensified the brightness of his deep-set emerald eyes and pink lips.
He pointed at something over her shoulder. “You might want to grab those.”
Emily whirled. A gasp tore from her as she lunged to snatch a bra and trio of panties off the belt before they disappeared behind the rubber curtain flaps.
With a broad sweep of his arms, Luke scooped her shredded suitcase with the last of her belongings from the carousel. Stooping low, he rescued the heap off the cement floor and hauled it, along with her mangled luggage, to an isolated corner of the terminal.
She wrestled her still-intact suitcase off the belt and scurried after him just as the throng of travelers descended on the baggage claim.
He straightened. “Is that everything?”
“I th-th-th-think so.” She winced at the stammer and sagged against the wall.
She’d worked hard to overcome the embarrassing speech impediment, but sometimes when she was flustered or frustrated it reappeared, leaving her to turn over words and clauses like an engine that wouldn’t start.
If Luke noticed, he pretended not to. “Is someone picking you up?”
She pushed a puff of air through her lips, lifting a strand of hair off her forehead that’d escaped her ponytail. “I r-rented a car.”
She felt his eyes on her like a caress. The corner of his puffy mouth lifted and his bright eyes danced with interest.
Her breath caught in her throat and she prepared words in her mind to acknowledge his suspicion that they’d met before now.
“Do you take cream?”
Emily blinked at him. “Wh-what?”
“With your coffee?” His smile turned mischievous. “We’re doing this all out of order, I admit, but now that I’ve fondled your panties, I think it’s expected that I at least buy you a cup of coffee.”
She frowned.
“I’ll take that as a no.” He appeared unfazed by her rejection. “How about your name then?”
Her frown twisted into a scowl. He didn’t recognize her? With her bright hair and stutter, she found that a little hard to believe. Was it that he didn’t remember her at all?
For someone who’d spent her life trying to stay invisible, that should make her happy.
It should, but it didn’t.
She dropped to her knees and began tidying the upheaval of her life.
He cleared his throat. “Let me help you get all this to your car.”
Emily shook her head. “I c-can m-m-m-manage—” She stopped when the spasm hit, and swallowed painfully. Her hand shot to the necklace around her neck.
She’d worn the silver chain with the small amethyst pendant for as long as she could remember, using it as a sort of talisman to calm herself when the stutter took over.
He crouched beside her. “Why don’t you go get the car? I’ll watch your things.”
His gentle tone stabbed a pang of longing into her heart, but she pushed to her feet and set off in search of the car rental counter. She wanted to leave the airport more than she didn’t want to accept his help.
In the tiny five-gate airport, she quickly located the desk and secured her reservation. When she steered the royal-blue sedan up to the terminal, she spotted Luke waiting at the curb, her suitcases perched at his feet, and rolled to a stop in front of him.
She pulled the trunk release latch the car rental clerk had pointed out to her and climbed from the car. Luke met her at the back, and when she propped open the trunk, he plunked her undamaged suitcase inside. He returned to the curb to attack the wrecked piece of luggage.
As he struggled to cram the unruly bulk into the compact trunk space, she grew a little lost in watching him. His soft green T-shirt hugged the muscles of his back and biceps and the sunlight picked out threads of rich auburn hiding amidst the strands of his dark hair.
With a grunt and one last hard shove, the bundle dropped into the vehicle. He slammed the trunk shut and patted the roof. “All set.”
“Th-th-thank you.” The tips of her fingers brushed across the solid pendant.
His gaze tracked her hand. “You’re welcome,” he said softly.
Her heart jumped into her throat as she scurried round to the driver-side door.
On the curb, he leaned a shoulder against a large structural column and pulled a cell phone from his hip pocket. He bent his head over the device.
She wavered. “Do you, uh, need a ride?”
Over the roof of the car, his green gaze landed on her face and the force of it knocked her back a step.
“I’m sure I’m out of your way, but thanks for the offer.”
She tilted her head. “Aren’t y-you h-h-headed to the island?”
Confusion clouded his well-formed features. The lines between his brows deepened and she imagined he struggled to place her among the multitude of women whose panties he’d no doubt fondled.
Struggling to recall her, or worried he might?
Suddenly, his features cleared as recognition struck. Followed by naked relief.
A practiced smile teased up the corners of his mouth. “I didn’t recognize you without the pub lighting.”
“Do you w-want a ride or not?”
“Are you here visiting your cousin?” He pushed the cell phone into the front pocket of his worn jeans and straightened away from the column. “’Cause I’m pretty sure she’s still out of the country with my brother.”
“I’m not visiting Mina. I’m m-moving to the island.” Saying the words out loud, a jumble of emotions whipped through Emily. Excitement and fear.
Okay, mostly fear.
No, not fear. Anticipation?
Whatever. It didn’t matter. It was a change, and more than anything, Emily needed something in her life to change. Any change would do, as long as it amounted to a life different from the one she’d been living the past nine years.
The playfulness on Luke’s face had vanished as swiftly as the morning sun burned away the dew.
All the softness had disappeared and been replaced by a hard glare. “I
didn’t know you enjoyed our little oasis so much. Not many people find island life to their tastes.”
She’d only visited Thief Island twice before deciding to make the permanent move. Sweeping views of sand and sea, rolling hills, and a quaint downtown were all she recalled.
It was vastly different from the desert of Tucson. Nearly the exact opposite, in fact, which was fine by her. Preferred even. Maybe the foreign environment would distract her from the painful memories she’d hoped to leave behind in the desert.
She lifted her shoulders. “What’s not to like?”
His eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. “Have you spent any time here in winter?”
“I have.” It’d been unseasonably warm when she’d visited last December, but she didn’t share that tidbit with him.
He folded his arms over the wide expanse of his chest. “When the lake ices over, the ferry can’t run. We might go days, even weeks, where no one can come or go.”
“It’s too late to talk me out of it.” She yanked open the car door. “I bought Mina’s house.”
His expression turned incredulous. “Why did you do that?”
Her scowl deepened, and not only because she didn’t have a ready answer.
She had a lot of almost answers, though none she wished to voice for Luke Nolan’s examination. Answers such as because her cousin, Mina, one of the few family members Emily had left in the world, had lived in that house and lived on the island still. Or because last year, the most excruciatingly difficult year of Emily’s life, she’d buried her mom on that island and wanted to be near her.