by Piper Lawson
As I turn to reach for the bowl, I spot a familiar head over the crowd that makes the rest of my thoughts evaporate.
Rory shouts, "Logan!"
He runs across the room to the man I can’t stop thinking about, who looks breathtakingly handsome in a crisp, blue button-down over khakis, his hair tamed a little more than I remember it. Logan’s face splits into a grin when my son pulls up in front of him.
“Excuse me a moment,” I say to no one in particular as I follow my son across the gym.
I haven’t seen Logan in two weeks, and when I pull up in front of him, I take a moment to soak him in.
He’s still the most gorgeous man I’ve ever met, but it’s so much more than skin deep. It’s the way he carries himself, the confidence, the caring in his expression.
"Hey, Rory. You were boss out there. Gordon Ramsay's got nothing on you."
"Bloody hell," Rory agrees happily.
Logan’s gaze meets mine. It’s full of warmth and other emotions that feel way too personal to process in the middle of a gym.
A boyish smile curves the corner of his mouth. "I wanted to be the one to tell you we hit ten thousand sales. But you know that because you made it happen.”
I’m melting like the blueberries in Rory’s scones. "I might’ve heard.”
Someone bumps me from behind, and I step closer. Not close enough to touch him, but close enough I can smell his fresh scent.
Logan opens his mouth to speak, but I beat him to the punch. "You were right when you said I was trying to measure up to some invisible ideal. That I was afraid of what people would think. Of us—and of me.” I wrap my arms around the bowl to stop myself from grabbing him. “I felt like I let everyone down in the past. As if I needed to make up for those mistakes. But I don't want to live that way."
"How do you want to live?" His words are a test, and I meet the challenge head-on.
"Free. Real. With you.”
He steps closer, taking the bowl from me and setting it on a chair behind him before brushing my hair back behind my ear. Logan's voice is a low murmur. "I was fucking miserable without you."
If it’s bad to love hearing that, for those words to send a tingle up my spine, then I guess I’m bad.
“I’ve been coming up with ways to convince you to give us another shot.”
“You can still do them,” I offer generously.
“Maybe I will.” His thumb strokes my jaw and I shiver at his touch. “We better get started because I have work Monday."
My brows shoot up. "Really?"
"Uh-huh. I told my grandmother all of my shit, and she still wants me at Hunter’s Cross. It’s kind of crazy."
“It’s not so crazy,” I murmur, losing myself in his eyes. “You’re actually pretty good at selling things. But it’s too bad.”
His expression clouds. “Why’s that?”
"Because you won't have any energy left for fooling around."
"Bullshit," he states, and I grin. "I have a long to-do list where you're concerned."
"Ooh, Logan Hunter has a 'Do Me' list?"
"Yup. It's big. And dirty. And it'll take a lot of nights to get through it, but I'm committed.” Desire twines with hope and joy until every part of me’s humming. “And I'm not just committed to the list, Peach. I'm committed to you. To you and Rory. I want to take you to Paris like I promised. August, or whenever you have time.”
I’m drunk on possibility. But this time, it feels real. Not like some thin idea that’s going to slip away. "We'll talk about it. Rory has a weeklong cooking camp I want to send him to in August.” I cock my head.
“Which means we’d have a week to ourselves.” Logan’s eyes darken three shades as he takes me in his arms. I want to sigh at how good it feels for him to hold me. “That sounds perfect. And I have just the thing to celebrate with. Peach beer.” My brows shoot up. "It's the centerpiece of our new restaurant collection. Which I'm going to need Rory's help with."
I shut my eyes and breathe him in until I can find words. "You're unbelievable."
"I'm in love with you, Kendall." My eyes fly open. “I want to share adventures with you. The big ones, the small ones, all the ones in between.”
This time my chest does crack. Not because the words are a shock, but because they feel so damn right.
“In that case, I should tell you my parents are here. And they’ve seen the video.”
Logan’s brows pull together. “That’s too bad.”
“I know.”
“Nah, I meant cause now I can’t be the one to tell them how we met.”
I hit him in the arm.
“Go on, say it,” he prompts, eyes shining.
"I love you too, Logan.”
His arms tighten around me, his face splitting into a grin. "Yeah?”
I nod.
“I know this started with a stupid bet, but I want this to be us, Kendall. You and me. Every day. Always. Nothing's worth more."
He steps into me, dropping his mouth to mine. Logan's kiss is full of need and hunger and longing, and I’m the one to pull back at last.
"You're on."
Epilogue
"You do this every week?" Daisy asks over her cards.
"Since college," I confirm.
She lifts a brow. "And I was never invited."
"You are now,” Nellie gripes, “because you bought my company. Practically stole it from me, I might add."
Since I won the bet three months ago, we've relocated poker night to the penthouse of the Charlotte. At Kendall's suggestion, I declined to exercise the full extent of my rights to take it full time. I just borrow it on occasion.
It's cramped quarters around the table with Nellie, Monty, Kendall, Daisy, and Kendall's friend Rena and her boyfriend, Wes.
Not to mention Janie, who’s an honorary member. Nellie brought his lucky angel up from the basement for the evening and stuck her poster to the fridge.
"It's cute that you and Ben bought the company together," I comment.
"He's a silent investor," Daisy says.
"Sure he is. You ever know Ben to not take total control of something?"
"He’s not like that with me. Besides, Ben and I have our own way of resolving disputes,” Daisy replies smoothly.
I swear the other women exchange a look.
I check my watch, and Kendall lifts a brow.
"Just want to make sure Rory's okay," I say.
As if on cue, the kid bursts in the door, along with a man in a white hat and apron. "Mom! I'm going to help Chef Anton prep for tomorrow, okay?"
"I'm sure Chef Anton would love your help, but what would his line chefs do?" My girlfriend exchanges a look with the Charlotte’s chef, which I've learned is mom speak for "Blink twice if this is an imposition."
"Not at all," the chef says. "I'd be glad of the help."
Rory's out the door with a grin and a "Bloody hell!" that wafts down the hall.
I glance at my cards and opt out of the current round of betting, dropping them on the table facedown and watching my friends who're still in.
My life is fucking awesome. Running the marketing team at Hunter’s Cross keeps me busy and banging my head against the wall, but knowing I have the confidence of Monty and my grandma—who's stepped back in terms of her time commitment but is no less vocal—means more than I thought possible.
More than that, I never thought I'd have a woman I love.
Kendall and I spent a week together while Rory went to cooking camp. She didn’t want to leave the country without him, so I rented us a plush one-bedroom cabin upstate where we made our own adventures.
Some of them even happened outside our bedroom.
The world really is better with her. All of it. And I have plans for the future.
Plans she doesn't know about yet.
After Daisy takes the hand, Nellie deals the next.
I stare at my cards, careful not to hold my breath. Oh yeah. This is the whale I've been waiting for.
&nb
sp; I lead off the betting nice and easy, tossing in a couple chips. I'm a little light after the past few hands. Probably because playing poker with Kendall is a distraction. I'm always half watching her. Thinking how damn beautiful she is. How cute it is that she thinks she can beat me.
How I'll punish her—or reward her—if she does.
The women opt out one at a time.
After the cards have been turned up, it's just Nellie and me.
He flashes teeth as he slides the rest of his chips to the center of the table. "All in." His gaze drops to my remaining chips, which aren't enough to match his. "Too rich for you, Hunter?"
Shit. We're playing for small stakes, but I can't make up the difference.
Kendall leans over. "Do you have it?" I nod, and she pushes a stack of her chips into the center with a smile. "It's on me."
"You can't do that," Nellie protests.
"House rules," Kendall says.
Pride fills me, and I gesture to the penthouse with a grin. "My house, my rules."
"Bullshit. But I'll take her money too." Nellie flips his cards. "Full house. Kings over jacks. Well?"
I slowly turn my hand. "Straight flush. Hearts."
A cheer goes up from everyone except for Nellie, whose eyes drift shut as he slumps in his chair.
Kendall shifts out of her seat to press a kiss to my mouth. "You're a good bet, Hunter."
I grin. "Thanks, Peach."
The thing is…I'm counting on it.
It's late by the time the group clears out. Rory's in the roomy second bedroom, passed out after three hours with Chef Anton. I don't know whether that or the prospect of a sleepover excited him more.
After we shut the door on the last of our friends, I take Kendall's hand, tugging her down the hall of the penthouse suite.
"You must be exhausted," she teases.
"Uh-huh. All that winning has me beat." I shut the door of the master bedroom, then lift her and carry her to the bed.
She shifts out from under me, kneeling in front of the bed. Ah, fuck.
She reaches for the zipper of my pants, then stops, frowning.
"What's wrong?" I ask.
"I banged my knee against something." Kendall reaches under the bed.
My brain takes a second to click into gear given all my blood's in my dick. Shit.
She gasps as she holds up a box filled with clear packages. "Logan? Why is there a box of vibrators under the bed?"
"Just one box?"
Realization dawns on her face. "How many did you order?"
I shrug. "North of five thousand."
Kendall's eyes are the size of dinner plates. "But you wanted to win fairly!"
"Sure. But I got word from Tanner that Nellie wasn't playing fair. This was a little… insurance. No one fucks me, Peach." I grab her wrists and tug her onto my hips. "Except you."
I press my lips to her jaw, loving the way she melts under my touch. When my hands find her breasts through her top, I can barely hold in a groan.
Yeah, my woman's fucking awesome. And I know how to make her moan.
Except she's shoving at my chest. "Logan."
"Uh-huh?" It takes every ounce of restraint to pull back enough to look her in her stormy eyes.
"You're saying I didn't need to make a video extolling the virtues of the Petal vibe? And tell the entire world how much I love you?"
I chuckle. "We’ll never know. But I love that you did." Impatient, I grind my erection against the soft spot between her hips.
Her eyes flutter closed. "You're unbelievable."
"Just getting started, Peach."
Hours later, we're lying exhausted in the king-size bed. I stare at the ceiling, counting to ten and wondering where these nerves came from. But I ignore them.
"We should move in together," I tell her.
Her body stiffens, but I don’t let go. I stroke her with my hands, breathing in the scent she loves that I started buying by the carton despite her protests.
"Because you want to play poker every night?"
"No. I want this every night." I tug her naked body against mine, feeling her press closer. "You. Me. Rory down the hall."
"It's not a long hall at my place."
"Then we'll find another place. Nothing's going to stop us. We can move anywhere in the city. I'm not letting you go. I love you."
"I love you too."
"Say yes."
"Or?"
"Or I'll have to break out one of five thousand exceptional sex toys to convince you."
“Okay. Yes.”
I kiss her in the darkness, and she pulls back. I can almost sense her biting her lip. “What is it, Peach?”
“Do you think they’re still charged?”
The breathlessness in her voice has me tossing my head back on a laugh as I reach under the bed. “One way to find out.”
Thanks for reading Bad Love! I hope you loved reading Logan and Kendall’s story as much as I loved writing it.
Are you dying to see how business besties Ben and Daisy’s OBVIOUS chemistry plays out? And what secrets they’re hiding from their friends, each other, and themselves?
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Here’s what other readers are saying about Wes and Serena’s opposites-attract story:
"Intelligently written, funny, sweet, quirky, heartfelt and romantic."
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If you’re craving more of Bad Love’s nerdy/smart/sexy vibe…check out PLAY!
Rising finance star Payton is determined to beat the boys at their own game. The only thing in her way: Max Donovan, the hot and infuriating gamer-turned-CEO who just became her biggest client.
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WHY “BAD LOVE”
If you’ve read me a while, you know this is the part where I give an earnest, heartfelt account of why I wrote this book and why it’s important to me.
So here it is…
I wanted to write about a sex toy bet.
That’s it.
Okay, there’s a little more to it than that…
I wanted to write a book about a sex toy bet that felt REAL and interesting and fun. And to celebrate an industry which is being revolutionized by women as we speak.
As usual, it had to also be about badass women doing the best they can—which includes both moments of horror and moments of bloody brilliance (as Rory would say).
That’s why Logan, the heart-of-gold frat boy—er, man—and Kendall, the single mom who’s been ‘keeping it bottled up’ a little too long, were PERFECT.
I loved every second I spent with Logan, Kendall, Rory, Monty, Gma Hunter, Rena, Wes, Ben, Daisy, and even Nellie…
And I hope you did too.
THANK YOU to everyone who helped bring Logan and Kendall’s story to life! There were so many people that contributed and I’m beyond grateful. Thank you Becca Mysoor for seeing what this story could be and beating it out of me. Thank you Cassie Robertson and Devon Burke for making it shine. Thank you Natasha Snow and Lindee Robinson for the beautiful cover. Thank you to my AMAZING ARC team for tirelessly loving on this book and for always cheerleading and supporting my work. Thank you Annette Brignac and Michelle Clay for being smarter and mo
re organized than I am, and specifically, for reattaching my head each time it fell off. Thank you Dani Sanchez for getting this book in the right hands from day 1…
And THANK YOU for taking the time to read this story. In this busy world, your attention is the most generous gift you can give any author.
I don’t have the advertising budget of a big publisher. But I do have something that’s worth way more.
The most amazing readers in the world.
Honest reviews are the best way to get the word out about my books. If you loved this (or one of my other books!), I’d be beyond grateful if you could take two minutes to leave a quick review - especially on Amazon or any other retailer.
Then be sure to drop me an email at [email protected] so I can thank you.
Thanks for being awesome, for inspiring me every day, and for helping make it possible for me to do something I love.
xx,
Piper
About the Author
I read and write stories where the girls aren’t doormats, the guys aren’t asshats, and secondary characters aren’t second-class citizens. A card-carrying millennial, I have two business degrees and zero hope of starting a fashion label (unlike my Travesty characters). I crave quirk the way some people crave kink, and believe life is too short not to do what—and who—you love.
My home base near Toronto, Canada is shared with my wonderful sig other. I know he's the perfect man because not only is he TDH (tall dark & handsome), but he will beta read for me under duress. And really, that's what love is. Beta reading under duress.
To my readers: I'm beyond grateful to you guys who make it possible for me to write. Thank you for buying my books. And inspiring me. And sending me wacky ideas. You're the reason I keep doing this.
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