“THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!” a woman’s voice screamed through the phone, a blurry image on the screen. As the camera pulled away, they realized it was Clare—sweaty, angry, and screaming Clare—with Rory next to her in what looked like a hospital room.
Suddenly Dee’s face popped in front of the camera. “Quinny, look! Clare’s in labor!”
“Oh, my God!” Kiera shrieked, while Quinn’s mouth just fell open. “Congratulations, Clare!”
“Oh, hi, Kiera! How are you? Do you want to see the baby? She’s about to crown any moment!” Dee asked. “Let me just pan down the camera.”
“Ma! No!” Quinn quickly jumped in. “Do not pan down!”
Kiera laughed, collapsing against Quinn’s side. “Dee, we’re fine with waiting to see the baby until she’s…out.”
Dee shrugged into the camera, before bringing it way closer to her face than she needed to. “Suit yourself, but the miracle of life is a wonderful thing. Oh, and did you hear the other news?”
“No?” Quinn furrowed his brow. “IS IT TWINS?”
“What!” Dee squawked. “No, Quinny. You don’t get surprised by twins—do you know anything about pregnancy? Jesus Christ, like that wouldn’t have shown up on the ultrasound. No, I’m talking about Flynn.”
Quinn let out a small growl. He still didn’t really love the guy. “What about him?”
“His fiancée left him high and dry at the altar. Terrible tragedy, but we still went to the reception—the all-you-can-eat shrimp buffet could not be missed,” Dee rambled as Kiera and Quinn exchanged glances. “Anyway, Casey’s over there helping him ship back everyone’s gifts. Such a shame.”
“Casey’s ‘helping him ship back’ gifts,” Kiera snorted, putting air quotes around her words with her fingers. “Suuuuuure.”
Quinn groaned. “I don’t want to even think about that.”
“Speak up, kids,” Dee said through the phone. “I can’t hear you. What was that about Casey?”
“Nothing, Ma. We actually have some news for you,” Quinn said, badly wanting to change the topic, even though this felt like a weird moment what with all the screaming in the background.
“Oh, my gosh, are you pregnant, Kiera?” Dee asked. “Because you know Fiona is, too. You guys could be pregnant together! Now I just need Kane and Nora to get their act together, or Jimmy and his new partner, Sophie—they’re secretly dating, you know. They think I don’t know, but I’m no rookie. Soon I could have grandkids from all my kids!”
“Dee, I’m not pregnant,” Kiera said, still laughing.
They’d heard the news of Fiona’s pregnancy months ago, but with all the commotion, Dee must have forgotten they knew. Jimmy dating his partner was surprising information, though, but Quinn filed it away in the back of his mind for later.
“The big news is…we’re getting married!” Kiera held the back of her hand up to the phone so Dee could see her ring.
“Holy Mother of God, look at that ring!” Dee exclaimed. “You did great, Quinny! I’m so happy! Hey, Clare, Quinn and Kiera got engaged!”
“I DON’T FUCKING CARE!” Clare screamed from the background.
Dee came back on the screen. “Well, she’ll care tomorrow when there isn’t a human trying to rip her hoo-ha in half.”
“Ma! Jesus!” Groaning, he tried to shake the mental image from his head. “Maybe we should just call back later.”
“Congrats, bro!” Rory’s voice could be heard in the background.
“Yes, I’ll call you as soon as the baby is here—a little girl named Bronte!” Dee told them, giving them a close-up of the bottom of her nose with the camera.
“Not right when the baby is here, Ma,” Quinn clarified. “Like when she’s in the nursery. In a blanket.”
“Fine, fine, yes,” Dee agreed. “Love you, guys! Bye!”
The screen went black when she hung up.
“You see that insanity?” Quinn turned to Kiera, tossing his phone onto the bed. “That’s what you want to marry into?”
Kiera laughed and fell back onto the bed. “No regrets.”
Quinn looked at the woman of his dreams, the woman he’d loved since he’d first laid eyes on her over two decades earlier, and he didn’t have a single regret, either.
To Amanda Oliver—you keep me sane.
To Stephanie & Trudy—you keep me wild.
To the Skimm, for bringing us together.
Acknowledgments
Every time I get to the acknowledgment section at the end of my book, I can’t help but be giddy. Not only have I finished writing my (twelfth?) book, but I also get the chance to reflect back on the people who made it possible. “It takes a village” has never been more true!
To my agent, Nicole Resciniti—thank you for your continuous faith and support despite zero evidence that this is a good idea. Honestly, I have no idea what you’re thinking, but I’m willing to go along with this ruse as long as you’ll let me.
To Sue Grimshaw, Gina Wachtel, and the entire Loveswept team—thank you for taking yet another chance on me and my Kavanagh men. I’m thrilled to tell their stories with you.
To my husband, Justin—thank you for helping me juggle home, work, writing, and everything so that I can continue to pursue my dreams.
To my big, fat, Greek family—thank you for being insanely large and intrusive, inspiring the Kavanagh family that I’ve grown to love so much. I know they are fictional characters I created, but each and every one of the Kavanaghs feels so real to me. The crazy must be hereditary!
To Nicole Tesch—thank you for teaching me the meaning of true friendship. And I’m sorry about the things I said when I was drunk. If this doesn’t apply yet, it will.
To Kim Loraine, Lavinia Kent, Tracy Wolff, Rachel van Dyken, Natasha Boyd, Dante Medema, Lynne Silver, Katie Rose, Jenn Foor, Lauren Layne, Kate Meader, and every other author I’ve interacted with along the way—thank you for lending a helping hand and encouraging a fellow writer. In an industry that so often can turn cutthroat, it’s amazing to know that there are tons of authors who really just want the best for their peers. I couldn’t do any of this without your encouragement.
To Danielle Weisberg Heller and Carly Zakin—thank you for creating the Skimm’bassadors to single-handedly destroy my productivity. You know what you’ve done *insert hypothetical side eye emoji then hug emoji here*
To new friends like Amanda Oliver, Trudy Larson, Stephanie Krumm O’Reilly, Katie Crawford, Kaela Mast, Dante Medema, Leanne Pinard, Jasmine Cole-Marrow, Lestlie Berryhill, Arielle Schwartz, Tina Margiotta, Stephanie Ramos Holthaus, Natasha Boyd, Priscilla Smith, Taylor Gaines, and my 10,000+ Skimm’bassador best friends—the good times are just beginning! Also, I’m sorry. If this doesn’t apply yet, it will.
To Judy Gray for enabling my Gilmore Girls addiction—shame on you, and thank you. Your gift put such a smile on my face.
To Holly Morales, Doreen J. Foucault, Jessica Ann Clements, Louisa Fae Dent, and Nicola Spears—you ladies are my OG team. There is absolutely no doubt that I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you guys. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
To all the wonderful readers in #RobinsonRamblings Reader Group—I’m so honored to call you all my friends! It means so much to me that you’re there for each and every book release, random thought, or silly meme. Your continued support gets my books out to readers and helps me to keep doing what I love!
I love this job. I love this life. I love to write. You all make it possible. Thank you.
BY SARAH ROBINSON
Kavanagh Legends
Breaking a Legend
Saving a Legend
Becoming a Legend
Chasing a Legend
Kavanagh Christmas (coming November 6, 2017)
The Photographer Trilogy
Tainted Bodies
Tainted Pictures
Untainted
The Photographer Trilogy Box Set
Forbidden Rockers Series
Logan’s Story:
A Prequel
Her Forbidden Rockstar
Rocker Christmas: A Novella
Logan Clay: The Forbidden Rockers Series Box Set
Her Dangerous Drummer: A Kindle Worlds Novella (coming June 29, 2017)
Romance Standalones
Not a Hero: A Bad Boy Marine Romance
Nudes: A Hollywood Romance
Women’s Fiction
Every Last Drop: A Novel (TBD, coming 2018)
PHOTO: VALERIE BEY PHOTOGRAPHY
SARAH ROBINSON is the bestselling author of the Kavanagh Legends series, the romantic thriller Photographer Trilogy, and the Forbidden Rocker series, as well as several standalones including Not a Hero: A Bad Boy Marine Romance and Nudes: A Hollywood Romance. A native of Washington, D.C., Robinson has both her bachelor’s and master’s degrees in criminal and clinical psychology. She is married to a wonderful man who is just as much of an animal-rescue enthusiast as she is. Together, they own a zoo of rescue and foster animals.
Want more from author Sarah Robinson?
Facebook.com/booksbysarahrobinson
Twitter: @booksby_sarah
Newsletter
Fan Club
Read on for an excerpt from
Mr. Big
by Delancey Stewart
Available from Loveswept
Chapter 1
Oliver
Maybe coming back to the company had been part of my plan all along. When I’d left, it had felt like there was no plan, like for the first time in my life I was doing something spontaneous, something that surprised even me. As I had prostrated myself to the triple deities of sun, surf, and utter irresponsibility, I’d envisioned coming to some definitive understanding of myself. It would be like a bright light, a certainty about who I was meant to be, what I was really meant to do.
I imagined I’d be standing on my surfboard, riding that razor-thin edge between exhilaration and disaster—the water about to crash over my head, my board milliseconds from toppling off the crest. It would be at that impossible moment, hanging between ecstasy and utter destruction, when something would come to me. I believed that my subconscious mind had been busy, even while I propelled myself through clubs and bars, drinking and dancing, surfing during the day and flirting as the sun fell and came up again. I honestly thought my psyche would assemble every past experience, every inkling of who I’d ever been, into a logical map to show me where I needed to go. Where I wanted to go. Because up until then, I’d never been aware of wanting anything. My life had been perfect. So perfect I’d had to rip it away in order to step back and evaluate it.
“You’re doing what?” my dad had asked, incredulous when I’d handed him my letter of resignation. “Oliver, the CEO doesn’t just resign.”
“Most CEOs aren’t born into their positions, Dad. I need to know I have the option.”
“Okay, you have the option. But right now? We need you here, son.” Dad had looked confused, distraught.
“I’m not sure you do.” Dad had made me CEO, with the board’s approval, as soon as I’d graduated from college. I’d known that was the plan since I’d graduated from high school. I’d never had an option, and since I’d been CEO of Cody Technology, I wasn’t sure I’d actually done a damned thing. I hadn’t done anything myself anyway. Dad was always there to help, to steer, to guide.
I’d walked away because I’d needed time to float. Time to be lost.
Celia had been even less pleased than my father. “Ollie, wait. What?” Her perfect face had formed into a mask of utter shock, and the tears had been immediate, almost theatrical. “But…the wedding?”
We’d been engaged less than a month. Maybe that had been the catalyst that had launched me toward this journey. How could I get married if I didn’t even know who I was? Celia had been a setup, the daughter of a board member, one of my dad’s best friends. She was gorgeous and had all the right credentials, perfect in every way. But maybe not perfect for me.
“I’ll be back,” I told her. But I didn’t tell her where I was going or ask her to keep in touch. And I hadn’t spoken to her in the six months I’d spent crossing the beaches of the world.
A shadow had fallen across my face as I’d lain dozing in the sand, my board plunged into the white grit next to me and the waves crashing ceaselessly at my feet. A masculine voice pulled me back to consciousness, the now-familiar South African slang for “bro” directed at me. “Ag, boet. Phone call.”
I’d cracked my eyes open to find Bergie from the resort standing above me with a cellphone. I hadn’t brought my own phone overseas. Only my mom knew where I was, and she’d promised to give me time and space. My dad might have known, but since he wasn’t speaking to me, I didn’t need to worry about him calling. I was twenty-six years old, but I still felt obligated to let Mom know I was safe. I owed my parents that much at least.
“Thanks,” I said, sitting up and reaching a hand out as I steeled myself to speak to my mother, Sonja. She had called only once so far. I smiled as I lifted the phone to my ear, shaking my head. I still felt lucky, and that feeling flooded through me as I thought of my parents that day. Even if I felt an itch of annoyance that Mom needed to check in from halfway around the world, I knew I was lucky she cared enough to do it.
I’d been smiling as I’d said hello, staring out at the vast open ocean and wishing in some strange way that Mom were actually there too. Maybe just for a couple days. Maybe I’d suggest they come visit. The time away from everything hadn’t gotten me closer to figuring out what it was I was supposed to be doing with my life, but it had made me realize what a rare gift I had in my relationship with my parents, and I regretted the way I’d left things with my father.
Now that I’d hoisted off the weight of their expectations and made them understand I couldn’t stay in the mold we’d each had a hand in creating for me, I missed them.
“Hey,” I said, anticipating my mother’s calm lilt across the endless miles between us.
It wasn’t my mother’s voice that came through the phone, though. “This is Andrew Token, Adam and Sonja Cody’s attorney. You’d better head home, son. There’s been an accident.”
If I hadn’t known who I was before that day, I sure as hell didn’t know who I was after.
SIX WEEKS LATER
I stepped out of the elevator and accidentally made eye contact with the receptionist.
She popped up from behind the tall lobby desk on the executive floor like a perky whack-a-mole. She hesitated, as if for a second she thought she’d made a mistake about who I was—I wore a ball cap low over my eyes and my hair was a long mess hanging around my neck. I didn’t look the part of a CEO. But then she stepped out, clearly having confirmed my identity somehow. “Sir, there are a few messages,” she said, her fist full of pink message slips. It seemed she had a knack for understatement.
“No.” I strode past her, ignoring the hurt look on her face and instantly regretting the terse bark of my own voice.
The top floor of Cody Technology was made up of the CEO’s and CFO’s offices, along with the office of our lead counsel. Three secretaries were positioned around the circular interior, one in front of each door, sentinels guarding their respective power players.
“Is Rob in?” I stood in front of the center desk, before the CFO’s secretary.
She took her time looking up from her screen, and her eyes narrowed in suspicion as they took in the ripped jeans, faded T-shirt, and Dodgers cap pulled low over my face, which sported three days’ worth of stubble.
“You have an appointment with Mr. Eastburn?” she asked, adding emphasis on the “Mr.” part, sending me a message about his importance.
I stood silently and watched recognition clear the uppity smirk from her features. A cold, apologetic fear replaced her smug smile and she sat up straighter, raising her hands in an apology. “Oh, God, Mr. Cody! I didn’t recognize you, I…uh…”
I didn’t have the energy for this. I stepped around the desk and walked into Rob’
s office as the woman continued apologizing outside.
“Rob,” I barked. My best friend and the CFO of Cody Technology jumped up from his desk, and I watched his face run through several expressions back-to-back. Surprise, sympathy, irritation, back to sympathy. “You left a message?”
He came around the desk and reached out his arms as if he was going to pull me into a hug, but then seemed to think better of it. He crossed his arms and ran a hand across his jaw. “Ollie, I’m so sorry, man.”
I shook my head. I didn’t want his sympathy. I didn’t want anyone’s sympathy. It was part of why I’d avoided seeing anyone I knew after the funeral. They didn’t know me anyway. How could they, when I didn’t even know myself? The lawyer had confirmed that. “What’s going on?” I asked, my voice sharp as I stood tense in the center of his office.
“I just…” Rob struggled, and I watched us from somewhere above, totally removed. I’d known Rob since we were kids. I could read him like a book, and he looked like a kid now—confused and uncertain. “Do you wanna go get a drink, man? Talk a bit?”
“Let me make this easy,” I said. “Adam’s gone. I’m gone. I’m going to sell my shares as soon as I can, and you can do whatever you want with what’s left.”
Rob’s face slackened, his dark eyes widening. “What? You can’t do that, Oliver. I mean…why would you do that?”
“Things have changed.”
“I know you were searching before the accident, trying to figure some things out,” he said. “But…” He shook his head, his eyes falling to the plush carpet as if he might find the answers there in the complex weave. “This place is your legacy, man.”
His words felt like a punch to the gut, and I realized how much I wanted a drink. Just not with Rob. Not with anyone who believed they knew exactly who Oliver Cody was.
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