by Elle Kennedy
He thought of his father, not something he did often, but for some reason, he suddenly saw a parallel between himself and the man who’d sired him. Henry Bishop had thrown away everything good in his life. His dad had a good, loving woman who’d been willing to stay with him despite his indiscretions, and instead of appreciating what he had, he kept hurting her. He’d slept with any female in his path, even Charlotte’s mother, which was one nugget of information Nate wasn’t sure he’d ever share with Charlotte. Her mother had messed her up too badly, and if Nate wasn’t careful, he was going to follow in his father’s footsteps and mess up his own life.
Did he really want to be the guy who threw away something amazing because of his damn pride?
Charlotte had sucked up her pride when she’d returned to a town that had brought her nothing but misery. When she’d forgiven a man who’d caused her nothing but heartache.
Didn’t she deserve the same from him?
“Well?”
Lexie was eyeing him expectantly, waiting for an answer, a sign.
As a slow smile stretched over his mouth, he took a step to the bathroom door and said, “Give me ten minutes.”
Lexie had failed.
By the time four o’clock rolled around, Charlotte knew, with a sinking heart, that Lexie hadn’t managed to convince Nate to come to New York. According to the airline hotline, the flight he was supposed to be on had already landed, and her loft wasn’t far from the airport. He would’ve been here by now.
She blinked back tears, grateful that she wasn’t wearing any makeup yet. She needed to leave for the venue in an hour, where she would do a sound check then sit through hair and makeup to prepare for tonight’s concert, the first one of the month-long East Coast tour. And Nate wouldn’t be standing stage left, watching her perform.
Swiping her sleeve over her wet eyes, she sighed and moved to the window, fixing her gaze on the city below. People bustled along the sidewalk, yellow cabs sped along the busy street, and the muffled sound of car horns pierced the air.
Well, you tried.
That was no consolation. She wished she’d had the time to fly to Paradise and beg for Nate’s forgiveness in person, but she’d had rehearsals all week, and her manager was already annoyed that she’d taken a week off to attend the reunion. She was stuck in New York, and in two days, she’d be leaving for Boston then Providence, Portland, and a handful of other cities along the Atlantic Seaboard. Colorado was not on the schedule, which meant zero opportunity to see Nate for at least a month.
Sighing, she was about to move away from the window when she caught sight of a taxi screeching to a stop by the curb in front of her building. Her pulse sped up, but she forced away the hopeful reaction. It was just a cab, a cab with some random person in it, a person who wasn’t— Nate!
Her heart soared high in her chest as the familiar head ducked out of the vehicle, followed by the long, muscular body that made her shiver. He wore jeans that hung low on his hips, a black T-shirt that hugged his broad chest, and his dark hair gleamed in the late-afternoon sun.
As he bent into the passenger window to pay the cab driver, Charlotte ran toward the front door and burst out into the hallway, unconcerned with her appearance. She rode the elevator down in her old Julliard T-shirt, green yoga pants and bright pink socks, and she didn’t care if anyone raised a brow or recognized her. Let her tacky outfit be plastered in a newspaper. Right now, she only cared about one thing. One man.
The elevator door dinged open. Charlotte stepped out of the car just as Nate entered the spacious, well-lit lobby. A crooked grin reached his mouth when he saw her. His pace quickened. Seconds later, they stood in front of each other, oblivious to the curious eyes of her doorman Fred.
“You came,” she said, unable to control the joy flooding her body.
“I came,” he confirmed.
Still, he made no move to pull her into his arms, and she just looked at him, waiting for him to continue, to say the words she desperately hoped to hear.
“Lexie told me she came to visit you,” Nate finally said, his voice dry.
“She did. It was…interesting.” Shame swept through her. “Apparently I was the bitch in high school, not the other way around.”
“You were on guard. I understand why you were suspicious of her.”
Nate, always her biggest defender.
Warmth slid into her belly. “Nate,” she started.
He quickly cut in. “Wait. Let me tell you why I’m here first.” He gave a shake of the head. “I still think what you were planning was pretty crappy, but I get why you felt it was something you needed to do.” His voice grew husky. “Just tell me one thing, Charlie—did you mean it when you said you loved me?”
“Yes.” The word came out without any hesitation. “I meant it with all my heart. I do love you, Nate. I always have.”
“Okay.”
When he didn’t go on, she raised one eyebrow. “Okay? That’s all you have to say?”
He scrunched up his face in a seriously adorable way. “You know I’m not good at talking about my feelings. I…I love you too, Charlotte.”
Happiness danced up her spine. “You do?”
“And I want us to try again,” he added in a gruff voice.
“Me too,” she whispered.
With a grin, he yanked her into his arms and kissed her, eliciting a shocked gasp from the doorman. Charlotte looped her arms around Nate’s neck and smiled up at him. “Will you come to my show tonight?”
“Of course.” He hesitated. “I could do more than that if you want.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I could move here. To the city.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I don’t want a long-distance thing. I want to be with you all the time.”
“No.”
His head lifted in surprise. “No?”
“No, I refuse to let you move here,” she elaborated. Her smile widened. “I was actually going to suggest I move home.”
“But you hate it there,” he blurted out.
“Not anymore.” Her heart squeezed with pleasure. “And besides, you’re happy running Bishop’s Corner. I couldn’t ask you to stop doing that for me. I was thinking…you know, that I could live in Paradise, with you, and maybe only tour a few months of the year. That is, if you’re open to the idea.”
“Oh, I’m open to it.” A grin lit up his handsome face. “Are you serious about all this?”
“Dead serious.”
With that, he kissed her again, deeper this time. Charlotte whimpered as his tongue slipped through her parted lips, as her heart thudded and a lazy rush of desire moved through her body. They were both breathless when they pulled apart, and Nate was laughing softly.
“Will this end up in the tabloids?” he asked, discreetly nodding in the direction of Fred the doorman.
“I don’t care if it does. People can say whatever they want about me, about us.” She stood on her tiptoes and brushed her lips over his. “Let them talk, it doesn’t matter to me. All that matters is you.”
“Us,” he corrected. A thoughtful look entered his silver eyes. “When do we need to leave for the show?”
She glanced at the clock hanging over the front desk. “Forty minutes.”
He pretended to think something over. “All right, I can do forty minutes. But we’d better get upstairs and make use of every single second.”
“You’re right. Time is of the essence.” Grinning at the desire smoldering in his eyes, she took his hand and dragged him toward the elevator.
“Maybe we shouldn’t even take our clothes off,” he offered. “Might save some time.”
“Oh no,” she said as the doors dinged open. “Don’t you dare deprive me of your naked body.”
Laughing, he pulled her into the elevator and said, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
About the Author
A RITA-award nominated author, Elle Kennedy grew up in the suburbs of Toronto, Ontario, and holds a B.A.
in English from York University. From an early age, she knew she wanted to be a writer and actively began pursuing that dream when she was a teenager. She loves strong heroines and sexy alpha heroes, and just enough heat and danger to keep things interesting!
Elle loves to hear from her readers. Visit her Web site www.ellekennedy.com or send her a note at [email protected]. You can also find her on Facebook or follow her on Twitter!
Look for these titles by Elle Kennedy
Now Available:
Bad Moon Rising
Dance of Seduction
Midnight Encounters
Going for It
Red Hot Summer
Hot Summer Nights
Hidden Desires
Out of Uniform
Heat of the Moment
Heat of Passion
Heat of the Storm
Heat It Up
Heat of the Night
The Heat Is On
Coming Soon:
Take Me Home Tonight
It’s all about the thrill…
The Heat is On
© 2011 Elle Kennedy
Out of Uniform, Book 6
As a Navy SEAL, Matt O’Connor specializes in Bad Boy. At least, that’s what he thinks…until he finds himself face down on the floor during a bank robbery, arguing with a sexy, bad-girl blonde who wields her sharp tongue with surgical precision.
Just like that, Matt begins to wonder if maybe the idea of settling down with one woman isn’t as crazy as he thought.
Savannah Harte is addicted to first kisses and whirlwind romances. Once the thrill is gone, though, she’s outta there. She’s eager to follow the adrenaline rush she feels with Matt into the nearest bed, but when tangled sheets begin to feel like tangled heartstrings, her first instinct is to cut him loose. There’s only one problem: Matt’s not going anywhere. And not even a steamy threesome seems to dull her growing feelings.
Which leaves Savannah having to decide what she wants more. The casual thrill of now…or the scary thrill of forever.
Warning: This title features a hot threesome with explicit sex, a bad-girl heroine, and two Navy SEALs guaranteed to make you sweat.
Enjoy the following excerpt for The Heat is On:
For the first time in his life, Matt was actually nervous about a date. As he stepped out of the shower, dripping water all over the bathroom mat, he suddenly wondered if he should ask Annabelle to come downstairs so he could ask for clothing advice. Jeez. What the hell was wrong with him? He could seduce the panties off a nun, for fuck’s sake. Women freaking loved him. If he was the kind of guy who ticked off notches in his belt…well, he’d be on his tenth belt by now.
But Savannah made him feel like an anxious teenager again. It wasn’t just her looks that captivated him, though her smokin’ body did make his mouth water. She was just so…self-assured. She seemed to know exactly who she was, completely comfortable in her own skin, and her easygoing attitude and sharp wit were a total turn-on. He didn’t usually think beyond the first date, but with Savannah, he already wanted more, and they hadn’t even gone out yet.
Which was why he couldn’t have sex with her tonight. As much as he wanted to, as much as his body throbbed with arousal at the mere thought of her, he needed to force himself to keep his hands off her this evening. It was messed up, but he feared that if he slept with her so soon, this fascination would disappear, and he wasn’t ready for that to happen yet.
Another first—he wanted to get to know a woman before he screwed her.
God help him.
Deciding to forgo calling Annabelle—he wasn’t in the mood to be ridiculed—he strode into his bedroom and threw open the closet door. As he dressed, he marveled at the silence in the apartment. Ever since Ryan moved upstairs into Annabelle’s place, Matt was living solo. Made it easier to bring chicks back here without worrying about keeping Ryan up, though he didn’t do it often. He didn’t like having women over. They always wanted to stay when he only wanted them to leave.
Clad in a pair of jeans, a black T-shirt and an open blue button-down, he grabbed his keys from the basket on the hall table and left his second-floor apartment. He took the stairs two at a time, suddenly eager to get going and see Savannah again. The black Dodge four-by-four he’d just signed the lease on had decent speed, and he made it to Savannah’s shop in less than fifteen minutes. Shutting off the engine, he took a deep breath and hopped out of the SUV. There was a separate entrance to Savannah’s upstairs apartment, with a small intercom mounted on the wall. He buzzed, then waited until her chirpy voice said, “Come up.”
Uh-oh.
She wanted him to come upstairs?
That wasn’t part of the plan. He’d hoped to wait down here for her, then drive her to the classy bar he’d researched on the web. He was kinda scared to be alone with her. At least with other people around, he wouldn’t be able to rip her clothes off and devour her body the way he so desperately wanted to.
Gulping, he opened the door and climbed the narrow staircase up to the second floor. Savannah’s door was painted a bright yellow, and it swung open the moment he reached the landing. She appeared in the doorway, wearing a pair of tight black yoga pants and a loose red T-shirt that didn’t hide the fullness of the breasts beneath it.
“Hey,” she said with an easy smile. “I figured we’d stay in, if that’s cool with you?”
Another gulp. Crap. Looked like he needed to conjure up some willpower. Pronto.
In a strained voice, he said, “Sure.”
Savannah gestured for him to come inside, and when he stepped into the apartment, he immediately saw her personality splashed all over the place. Mismatched furniture, some modern, some antique, filled the spacious living room. Colorful abstract paintings hung on the wall, with the occasional breathtaking landscape sandwiched between them. A small kitchen was tucked off to one side, and the living area was separated from the sleeping area with a see-through Japanese screen that featured bright pink cherry blossom trees. He caught a glimpse of a large futon with a bright magenta bedspread, but tore his gaze away. He couldn’t focus on the bed. Beds meant sex. And he was determined not to sleep with Savannah Harte until he figured out why he liked her so much.
“I like your place,” he said, turning to meet her silver-gray eyes.
“Thanks,” she said simply.
“Have you lived here long?”
“About eight years now.” She headed to the kitchen and pulled open the fridge, appearing a moment later with a six-pack in her hands. “I moved in when I bought the shop.”
They headed over to the plump brown sofa. Savannah flopped down, removed two beer bottles from the case and held one out to him. After a second of hesitation, he joined her on the couch and accepted the beer. At least three feet of space separated them, but it was still too damn close for comfort. Her sweet scent wafted over, surrounding him in a lust-crazed cloud. Of course, she smelled like flowers. Roses and lavender, with a hint of minty soap thrown in.
He unscrewed the cap of the bottle and took a long swallow of beer, hoping the cold liquid would ease the burn in his groin. But then Savannah reached up to untie her ponytail, letting her pale blonde hair fall loose, and the burn deepened. Fuck, he wanted to run his fingers through that silky hair, feel it tickling his pecs as she straddled his naked body, riding him…
No sex, a little voice ordered.
Right, no sex. He took another sip of beer, then set the bottle down on the coffee table.
“So,” he started. “Your dad teaches at Stanford… Does that mean you’re from Palo Alto?”
“Yeah, I grew up there. I moved here after I dropped out of college.”
He grinned. “You’re a college drop-out?”
“Sure am. I was never a school person. I wanted to work with flowers, so I moved down here to work at a nursery one of my mom’s friends owns. When this store came up for sale, she went in on the deal with me. We were partners until about three years ago, and then I bought her
out.”
Matt was impressed. Savannah couldn’t be older than twenty-seven, twenty-eight, and she already owned her own business. A successful one, judging by the fact that she’d been able to buy out her partner.
“Where are you from?” she asked him.
“Nashville. Well, just outside of it. My family owns a cattle ranch.”
She laughed. “You’re a cowboy, huh?”
“Naah, I wasn’t cut out for cowboy life. I left home at eighteen, joined the Navy, and now I live here full-time.”
“Too bad.” Her gray eyes darkened to smoky silver. “Cowboys are extremely sexy.”
He swallowed. Fuck, why did she have to look at him like that? Like she wanted to lick him up. He was normally the one dropping the loaded remarks, while his date steered the conversation to more wholesome topics. He found this role reversal totally disconcerting.
Savannah slid closer and rested her hand on his thigh.
Matt nearly jumped off the couch. Her hand was warm, her fingers teasing as she ran them along the denim seam of his jeans.
“How do you like owning your own business?” he blurted out, desperate to ignore the searing bolts of heat moving from the tips of her fingers to his suddenly throbbing thigh.
Savannah let out a sigh. “Are we really going to do this?”
“Do what?”
“Carry on with the idle chitchat when we both know what we really want to do?”
His cock jerked, strained against his zipper. She instantly noticed the reaction, a small smile spreading across her lush pink lips.
“Look, I don’t like relationships,” she said bluntly. “They don’t interest me. But I am interested in flings. Fun, casual flings, no strings, no promises, just a good time and great sex.”
He wanted to ask why. Why did she hate relationships so much? But his vocal chords had gone numb. She was using his own lines on him. Fun, casual, good time, great sex. He couldn’t even count how many times he’d uttered those exact phrases.