Crossing Lines
Page 1
The world’s best-stocked sex-toy drawer can only take a gal so far. Bored with her current assortment of vibrating, plastic pieces, Sam Wallace decides to add a new item to her collection: Kevin Mazze. The sexy Italian is more than happy to help her live out her long-held sexual fantasies, and trusting him with her body is easy. Trusting him with her heart, however, is not… especially when he commits an unforgiveable sin.
Kevin Mazze is one of the good guys. He’s spent his life always doing the right things and making those around him happy. When he meets the woman of his dreams, at the worst possible time, he finds himself making bad choices in the name of good and crossing lines he never thought he would… while praying she never finds out.
CROSSING LINES
Book #3 in the Heat Wave Series
Alannah Lynne
Copyright 2013 by Alannah Lynne
EPUB Edition
www.alannahlynne.com
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This is a work of fiction. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intentional by the author. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
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Table of Contents
Cover
About Crossing Lines
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Excerpt - Savin’ Me
About the Author
Other Books by Alannah
Dedication
To Dusty and Grey
You guys are my sun and moon.
There are no words to tell you
how much I love you both!
Acknowledgements
There are so many people who help me get a book ready to go. I usually forget someone (even though I keep a running list of everyone I want to thank), and I’m so sorry for that!
Thank you to Jeff Mosley for helping me make Kevin’s life hell. Jeff was so full of great ideas, I had a hard time keeping up with him as he rattled off possible scenarios. The biggest problem I had was getting him to help me figure out a way to get Kevin out of hot water!
Also, thanks to Cheri Biddix for helping me brainstorm Lizbeth’s career choice. I still have the massive string of texts on my phone! We really should’ve gone to lunch. LOL
Not too far into this writing process, I realized Kevin spoke Italian when he was “thinking out loud” and didn’t want anyone to know what he said. The problem is I’m not Italian and I know nothing about the language. As is the case anytime I need help, the universe sent me an angel. Thank you, Marianne Strnad, for all of your help and for always responding to my questions so quickly! I can’t wait to finally meet you!!
Prior to “meeting” Cassie McCown and Amy Eye (The Eyes for Editing), I considered editing a grueling process and dreaded it more than just about anything (except writing the synopsis or the back cover copy). No more! I thoroughly enjoy working with Cassie and am always a little sad when the book is finished. Thank you for helping me bring the books to life and for making the editing process so enjoyable!
As always, a massive thank you to Tricia “Pickyme” Schmitt for an amazing cover. I know I was a huge PITA this time. Thank you for your patience with me!!
When I started the self-publishing journey, I felt like I needed a board of directors. A group of ladies who believed in me and enjoyed my books, but who wouldn’t blow smoke up my ass and tell me what I wanted to hear. I needed honest direction. I am so blessed to have picked four ladies I love dearly, who do an amazing job of helping me with any and every little thing I need. Cheri Biddix, Liz Henderson, Michelle Unger, and Amanda McFarland. THANK YOU!
Thank you, Leagh Christensen, for getting the word out there about me and my books; for scheduling amazing blog hops, sending out ARC’s, and getting me on so many review sites!
I make no secret of how much I dislike Twitter, I actually think I have a Twitter phobia. Liza Brown doesn’t! She’s a Twitter goddess and has agreed to be my Twitter Admin. Please follow her to stay up to date on all the latest news and contests – Admn_ALynne
Last but certainly not least, a huge, MASSIVE thank you to my street team!! Alannah’s Beach Angels are the coolest, sweetest, kindest and most giving group of ladies I’ve ever been blessed to know. You bring so much joy to my life. You make me laugh, and sometimes tear up, with your personal stories. You are so welcoming to new members, and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate all of your pimping efforts!! You guys are the best!!!!
Chapter One
Can this day get any worse?
Flipping fate the bird with a taunting question was foolish, but Kevin Mazze couldn’t help himself as he glared down at the pixie standing between him and the grand opening of his exclusive subdivision.
Dieci, nove, otto, sette…
Why bother counting backward from ten to try and diffuse his anger? Rather than calming him, he always felt he counted down to an explosion.
Take now, for example. The pulse pounding in his temples suggested if he kept going, his head would explode, splattering fragments all over the pavement.
The upside was it would also make a mess of the petite, blond building inspector threatening to not only ruin his day, but his whole fucking year.
Stopping the countdown before he reached detonation, he scrubbed a hand across his forehead, then slowly and plainly said, “I need the Certificate of Occupancy. Without it, I’m dead in the water.” Okay, talking to her as if she were deaf and dumb probably wouldn’t gain him any favors—
Annnddd, there it went. The squashing of hope, along with a quick tightening in his stomach as he prepared for another swift kick in the nuts. She slammed her hands to her hips and squared her shoulders, pulling herself up to a truly impressive height of five foot one. If the situation weren’t so dire, and she didn’t hold his entire career in the palm of her hand, he would laugh. He might even get a little turned on, because her feisty back-at-ya attitude was sexy as hell.
“Is your hearing defective, Mr. Mazze? Or are you just a little slow on the uptake? I know you need a CO. But you don’t have enough water pressure to operate the sprinklers.” Mirroring his speech pattern, she slowed her cadence so even a first grader would underst
and. “You’re not occupying the building until the problem is solved.”
Several things kept his hands fisted at his sides rather than wrapped around her pretty little neck. One, she was a woman. Two, she was right.
She wasn’t responsible for the county’s negligence in following through with the promised water tower that would provide the pressure necessary for powering the sprinklers. Ultimately, the responsibility for this massive failure lay squarely on his shoulders.
His father insisted on taking the gamble and jumping the gun with this project. Kevin recognized the risk from the beginning, but he’d acquiesced to his father’s wishes. Now, while Papà visited family in Italy, reliving his childhood, Kevin was left with a mop and dry bucket, figuring out how to clean up the mess.
“I’ve been on the phone with Public Works every day for ten days,” he said, hoping to appeal to her sense of reasoning since his attempts at charming aggression had gotten him nowhere. “They said the tower would be up and running in another few weeks.”
Of course, the bastards promised that six months ago, too, and he still hadn’t seen any evidence of progress. But Samantha Wallace was new in town, so maybe she didn’t know how badly the county dragged their feet. Relaxing his posture, he gave her a stretched, confident smile and prayed she bought the massive pile of bullshit.
She cocked her head to the side and smiled, indicating a shortage of spending cash. Despite the ominous black clouds rolling in, she still wore her sunglasses, which prevented him from seeing her eyes. Pity, because based on her smile’s amperage, he’d bet her eyelashes were fluttering like crazy behind those mirrored lenses. “I may be blond, Mr. Mazze, but I’m not an idiot.”
After snapping the words like a whip, emphasizing her unwillingness to back down, she crossed her arms over her chest and glanced away. Her sharp exhale and creased forehead projected her sympathy, the show of regret doing more to diffuse his anger than counting backward from a thousand.
Despite her reputation for being a hardnosed bitch, she wasn’t busting his balls to be difficult. Code dictated what she could and couldn’t do, and in this case, her hands were tied.
An image of her naked, hands bound, kneeling on his bed, flashed through his mind. He had no explanation for the inappropriate thought, but this obviously wasn’t the time or place for his junkyard dog to wake up and fight against his chain.
He shook his head to clear the thought and leaned against the landscaper’s bumper. He worked his neck in a circle, finally looking to the heavens for guidance. An answering flash of lightning wasn’t reassuring.
“You have any suggestions?” he asked Wade Neumann, the job foreman, who’d been standing off to the side, silently watching the drama unfold.
“No, sir. I’ve never dealt with anything like this.” Wade sighed and his shoulders drooped. “I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault, bro. Papà and I took the gamble.” A huge, pricey gamble that might set Kevin back years.
In a perfectly coordinated display of I’ll-show-you, lightning flashed and thunder shook the ground at the exact moment his cell phone erupted with the theme from Psycho.
“Yes,” Fate cackled. “I can fuck your day up a little more.”
Wade’s mouth twitched, but as a smart young man concerned with job security, he bit down on his lip and squelched his grin.
Far superior and unconcerned with job security, Samantha Wallace flashed a grin brighter than the lightning. “Nice,” she said with a husky little laugh. “I should use that for my ex.”
Kevin didn’t correct her assumption Lizbeth was an ex. He also didn’t answer the call.
“Unless you wait for the water tower,”—she cast him a pointed look—“which won’t be up in the next two weeks, the only thing you can do is put in a booster pump.” At his muttered curse, she lifted a shoulder and gave a regretful shake of her head. “I know you don’t want to take the additional cost on the chin, but I don’t see any other option.” She threw her hands up animatedly. “Hell, even if I gave you the CO, the fire marshal would swoop in here and shut your ass down before you cut on the first light.”
Frustration chomped at the back of his throat, begging to break free with a growl and a massive curse. What the hell was he supposed to do at—he glanced at his watch—four o’clock on a Friday?
“Shit! It’s four o’clock.”
Wade and the building inspector exchanged glances at his outburst. One of her blond eyebrows lifted, and Wade answered with a shrug.
To Wade, he said, “I’m supposed to be in Riverside in two hours.” To Samantha, who didn’t appear to understand his predicament, he said, “I have a three-and-a-half-hour drive, besides a stop in Anticue to check on the progress of a restaurant. Needless to say, I’m real fucking late.” He winced. “Sorry, excuse the coarse language.”
He hadn’t intended to be funny, but she found something about his apology hilarious. Her braid swung side to side when she tossed her head back and laughed from deep in her chest, making him wonder if her hair was as soft as it looked.
He also found himself oddly curious about the color of her eyes and wanted to demand she take those damned shades off so he could see. Based on her fair skin and nearly white hair, he figured blue.
A sweet baby blue.
While he stared like a dumbstruck moron, she said, “I’m the last person you need to apologize to for cursing. You know how when someone quits smoking, they’ll gravitate to other smokers so they can inhale the secondhand toxic waste? Well, that’s me with cussing.” She waved off her copious explanation. “Never mind. Have a safe trip.”
Caught in the moment of seeing her as a beautiful woman, not the building inspector shitting on his parade, it took a while for him to realize his phone was ringing. Again.
He unclipped it from his belt and wrestled with the urge to toss the thing in the retention pond. Instead, he hit the silence button, then stuck his hand out as a peace offering. “I’m sorry for being an ass. Can we…?” When she placed her palm in his, heat from the contact washed over him, causing him to slip and nearly ask her to dinner. Fortunately, his brain reengaged and overrode the impulse. “Can we meet first thing Monday morning? I have to work this out.”
Her soft, sympathetic smile conveyed her thoughts. You poor, dumb son of a bitch. You just don’t get it, do you? But her mouth said, “Sure. Here or my office?”
“Here. I’ll bring breakfast.”
As he turned to leave, Wade asked, “Will you be back tomorrow?”
“Yep,” he yelled over his shoulder. “I told Marianne I’d keep Spencer so she can have the day to herself.”
“Enjoy your night, boss.”
Yeah, right. Kevin waved to acknowledge Wade’s comment, but didn’t turn around. Instead, he pounded the pavement to his truck and recited his new mantra.
Two more weeks. Just two more weeks…
Chapter Two
Mirrored shades served several functions. They looked cool. They protected the eyes. And they provided the perfect cover for sizing up a man’s ass.
Sam Wallace always found work boots sexy, and as Kevin Mazze stormed across the parking lot, he screamed sex with a capital S. His powerful strides were like those of a lion as he moved with authorial grace through the concrete jungle he ruled, commanding attention and respect.
A sigh slipped from her lips as she followed the roll of his shoulders under his light-blue button-down shirt and the sway of the soft, well-worn denim.
He was the man her mama warned her about.
The one her friend, Cheri, begged her to find.
When angry, his eyes were cold and hard and his lips compressed into a sharp, thin line. But when he smiled, those steely eyes turned soft and gooey, like rich, dark chocolate, and his bottom lip grew thick and plump, perfect for nibbling.
The whole package reminded her of fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies, and her mouth watered for a bite.
She hadn’t been with a man since her piece-of
-shit ex walked out. And even though Cheri encouraged her to find one, Sam steadfastly refused. She didn’t need a man… At least, that’s what she claimed.
Kevin Mazze, however, put a little purr in her motor and made her want to take a test drive.
He wasn’t wearing a ring—not that she’d been looking. She just happened to notice his finger was bare as he silenced his phone… Right before she saw the dark, curling chest hair peeking over the open top button of his shirt… Which she noticed when she snapped her gaze upward in an attempt to not get caught staring at his crotch… Which definitely snagged her attention.
Oh hell, who was she kidding? Everything about Mazze called to her on a deeply feminine level, guaranteeing him a starring role in all future fantasies.
“You’ll have to overlook his irritability,” Wade said, interrupting her thoughts. “He’s on edge because of the wedding.”
Her heart sank with the sound of screeching tires, signaling an end to her dreams before they even got started. “Oh, yeah? Who’s the lucky girl?” Realizing that might come across more forward than she intended, she turned to Wade to clarify.
Before she could formulate her defense as nothing more than a figure of speech, Wade said, “Oh, no. I doubt Wildman will ever marry.” He laughed nervously. “He’s planning my wedding.”
A ridiculous image of Mazze in a yellow sundress, wearing a matching hat and white gloves, directing the flower girl and bridesmaid from the back of a church, flashed through her mind. The scene was straight out of a bad horror movie and completely incongruous with the real-life, testosterone-driven flesh and blood.
The closest Mazze probably ever came to a dress was while removing one. Patience didn’t seem his strong suit, so rather than dealing with delicate buttons or sticky zippers, she imagined he would just rip and strip.
Kinda makes a girl want to go out and buy a dress.
She removed her sunglasses and used her shirtsleeve to wipe the sweat from her eyes. “The heat must be getting to me. Did you say he was a wedding planner?”