F*ck Club: Riley

by Shiloh Walker

  Bree was still pale. Putting Toby down, she smacked him on the rump, then sent him on his way. “Go on, buddy. Go get some clean clothes and change.”

  “Mom…”

  “Don’t even start,” she warned him, shaking her head. As he trudged out of the room, she reached up to brush her hair back.

  Light glinted off the ring.

  Charli saw it and her mouth fell open.

  She dropped the smashed chair she’d been gathering up and rushed over to Bree. “What is this?” she demanded.

  Bree shot him a look, then held out her hand so Charli could see. “He asked this morning.”

  “It’s been a long time coming,” Riley said.

  “I’ll say.” She shot her brother a look and he saw the questions in her eyes, knew what she wanted to know. He’d tell her about it later.

  But for now, he just went to Bree and cupped her face, giving her a soft, slow kiss.

  Feeling an intense pair of eyes on him, he looked up.

  Toby stood in the doorway and once their eyes met, the boy heaved out a hard sigh. “That’s so gross.”

  “Nah. Trust me, sooner or later, you’ll understand,” Riley said. And one of the knots in his heart eased. The kid wasn’t so angry with him anymore.

  “No way.” Toby shook his head vehemently as he started toward the bathroom. He paused, though, and looked back at Riley, then Bree. “Are you going to keep kissing?”

  Bree cleared her throat. “Actually, yeah. Riley asked me to marry him. Are you okay with that?”

  Toby pondered the question, then he shrugged. “I guess. I get to play pinball a lot and I can see Con and—” He blushed. “Charli a lot, right?”

  “Absolutely,” Riley responded, covering up his laugh with a cough.

  “Then okay.” He smiled a little, then disappeared into the bathroom.

  As the door closed, Riley smiled at Bree. “That’s quite some stamp of approval.”

  “Whatever.” She rolled her eyes and reached up. She fisted her hand in his shirt and tugged him close. “Let’s not go telling him about how he’ll understand the kissing thing. I think he’s already got his eye on your sister.”

  “True…true.” He brushed Bree’s hair back from her face.

  Charli chuckled. “Toby’s sweet, Bree. But I’ve already got my heart set on somebody else.”

  That had Riley’s head flying around.

  But no matter what he said, Charli wouldn’t tell him. Eventually, Bree got him to shut up by kissing him.

  And he was just fine with that.

  Actually, the way things were going, for the first time in a long while, he was just fine with almost everything.

  Bree gave him a quick smile as Charli chattered on about wedding dresses and he sighed, oddly content after the upheaval of the past day. Yeah, he was doing just fine.

  Coming Soon

  F*ck Club: Con

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  About

  Shiloh Walker has been writing since she was a kid. She fell in love with vampires with the book Bunnicula and has worked her way up to the more…ah…serious works of fiction. Once upon a time she worked as a nurse, but now she writes full time and lives with her family in the Midwest. She writes romantic suspense and contemporary romance, and urban fantasy under her penname, J.C. Daniels. You can find her at Twitter or Facebook. Read more about her work at her website. Sign up for her newsletter and have a chance to win a monthly giveaway.

  Look for other titles by Shiloh

  The McKays

  Headed For Trouble

  The Trouble With Temptation

  The Right Kind of Trouble

  The Barnes Brothers

  Wrecked

  Razed

  Busted

  Ruined

  Contemporary Standalone Titles

  Beg Me

  Tempt Me

  Beautiful Scars

  A Forever Kind of Love

  Playing for Keeps

  No Longer Mine

  You Own Me

  Her Best Friend’s Lover

  The Ash Trilogy

  If You Hear Her

  If You See Her

  If You Know Her

  The Secrets & Shadows Series

  Burn For Me

  Break For Me

  Long For Me

  Deeper Than Need

  Sweeter Than Sin

  Darker Than Desire

  The FBI Psychics

  The Missing

  The Departed

  The Reunited

  The Protected

  The Unwanted

  The Innocent

  And more

  Headed for Trouble

  SHE’S A SMALL-TOWN GIRL WITH BIG DREAMS.

  Nine years ago, Neve McKay fled her small Southern town and disapproving family to seek a career in the big city. Now she’s finally coming home-and hoping for a fresh start. But the relationship that shattered her world still haunts her. And even among her nearest and dearest, she doesn’t feel safe. . .

  CAN THIS BAD BOY BE THE ANSWER TO HER PRAYERS?

  Ian Campbell is a pure Scottish muscle-as hard and handsome as they come. But when Neve walks into his bar, his heart melts. . .and he vows to have this gorgeous and somewhat vulnerable woman in his life-for better or for worse. What is Neve’s tragic secret? And how can Neve expect Ian to protect her, when doing so could put his own life at risk? The only thing Ian knows for sure is that he will do whatever it takes to keep her out of harm’s way-and in his loving arms. . .

  Read More

  You Own Me

  It had always been her…

  Ten years had passed since the doors slammed shut behind Decker Calhoun, taking away his freedom, but more importantly, locking him away from Elizabeth Waters, the only woman he’d ever loved—the woman he’d given up everything for. The day he was sentenced, he’d looked at her and said, No regrets, Lizzie.

  But he lied, because he did have one. Although he’s been out of jail for three years now, he was a year too late. Lizzie never knew how he felt and just months before he was released, she found somebody else and it’s too late.

  Or maybe not. It seems that Lizzie’s boyfriend wants an open relationship and two can play at that game. Now all Decker has to do is convince Lizzie that he’s the better man…and has been all along.

  Read More

  Enjoy This Excerpt From

  The Virgin’s Night Out

  This idea had been both a spectacular success and a rousing failure.

  She’d made Rodney’s eyes pop out, alright.

  And now he wouldn’t take his sorry self away.

  “Look, I know I hurt you—”

  Grabbing her drink, Sloane tossed it back and then slammed the glass down on the counter. She slipped off the stool, watched as he did the same. For once, she was glad she was a tall woman. They normally stood eye to eye and when they’d dated, she’d never worn heels. Now, though, in the three inch spikes, she all but towered over him.

  “Hurt me?” she said, her voice flat. “You humiliated me. But I got over it.”

  She went to shove past him. He grabbed her arm.

  She went tense. Her hand closed into a fist and the anger she thought she’d managed to get under control pulsed just below the surface. “Let me go,” she said, raising her voice to be heard above the noise. “Do it now or you won’t live long enough to be sorry.”

  “Sloane…” He gave her a charming smile.

  She had the most fun ever driving her fist into his face.

  Sloane was the timid one of the Redding siblings. She was shy and although she’d had the same chances as her brothers—learn to hunt, shoot a bow, go fishing—she’d preferred her books and the quiet of her room.

  But there were a few things her brothers had insisted she learned, especially as she’d gotten older.

  Now as Rodney stumbled back, dazed, she shook her sore hand and reali
zed just how very therapeutic it could be, to actually hit somebody.

  Rodney caught himself before he went down and lurched after her, his eyes blazing. She kicked her shoes off and brought up her hands.

  He never got any closer.

  It was erotic as hell, Boone thought, watching as she drove her fist into the man’s face. He’d already been on his way to intervene—as had two others in the bar—but she had handled it on her own.

  Still, when the man staggered after her, Boone caught him, drove a vicious punch into his gut and when he doubled over, he hammered a blow to the back of his head.

  Looking up, he caught the bartender’s eye.

  The bartender looked at him, then back at the woman and shook his head. “I’ll get that taken care of,” he said, his eyes flicking to the man lying face down on the floor.

  As he called out to a couple of the men near the bar, Boone went to nod at the woman. Forget the beer. Forget trying to relax. He’d just go—

  “Thank you.”

  She was right there. Inches away. Long hair, nearly to her waist, hung free, straight as rain, dark as midnight. Her eyes were wide, still glinting with temper, but a smile tugged up the corner of her mouth.

  “I think you had him handled for the most part.”

  “Yeah, but…” She looked down at her hand.

  He saw the scraped, swollen knuckles and all but swallowed his tongue as she looked away, the long, dark sweep of her hair falling over one shoulder as she stared at the ground.

  “Hitting hurts,” she said, her voice absent.

  “Yeah. Put some ice on it.” She was still staring at the ground and he found himself staring at her back, long and elegant and pale. Everything about her seemed long and elegant. Strong, too, and his blood started to burn hotter as she went to step into a pair of heels.

  The muscles in her calves flexed as she straightened and then looked back at him. Just what in the hell was it about a simple pair of shoes that changed almost everything about a female, from the way they stood to the way they walked?

  He could almost feel his brain cells dying as she continued to stand there, watching him. Velvety brown eyes held his without a hint of flirtation or pretense and that was unnerving as hell.

  Okay. Time to go. He nodded at her, words completely failing him.

  “Can I buy you a drink?”

  As soon as she said, Sloane wanted to take the words back.

  This man was too…there.

  Too big, too intense and the temper that had driven her with Rodney had faded, sapping her courage with it. Now, as pale green eyes settled on her face, she swallowed.

  He was going to say no. She could already see it.

  With the last bit of nerve she had left in her, she forced one more smile. “You know what? Never mind.”

  She went to brush past him and his hand caught her arm. “I hadn’t quite finished mine. Why don’t you sit down with me?”

  She tilted her head back and met his eyes. For one brief moment, that connection seemed to sizzle, seemed to burn. Sit down with him. Have a drink. Talk—talk about what?

  In the span of what felt like minutes, her mind raced over what he’d consider the boring emptiness of her life. It would take up two minutes, he’d hurry through his drink and leave.

  “Dance with me instead.”

  For the second time that night—the third, the fourth?—she’d surprised herself, but as the music shifted into a slow song, she caught his hand and back onto the dance floor just a few feet away. He didn’t budge at first. Maybe she should have just cut and run…

  But in a rush, she found herself pressed up against him, one big hand pressed up against her spine while the other sought out hers and brought it up, twining their fingers together. Somebody bumped into her and she stumbled, bumped into him. “Ah…”

  She looked up at him, an apology on her lips.

  But the words died as a shudder rolled through her. Muscles in his thighs flexed—she could feel it. Pressed this close to him, she thought she could feel just about everything. The hand he had on the base of her spine fisted and she licked her lips nervously.

  His gaze fell to her mouth.

  In the packed, crowded bar, surrounded by maybe fifty other swaying couples, Sloane felt like she was suddenly alone with this man—a man whose name she didn’t know—and she had a burning desire to close to distance between them and kiss him.

  And since she seemed to be riding the crazy train to nowhere, she did just that, leaning forward and doing yet one more thing she’d never imagined herself doing.

  She kissed a total stranger.

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