Bosom Buddies Episode Five

Episode One

 

If you missed Episode One, read it here.

If you missed Episode Two, read it here.

If you missed the Bonus Episode, read it here.

If you missed Episode Three, read it here.

If you missed Episode Four, read it here.

Sabrina

“Great. Just abso-fucking-lutely great.”

With a scowl and a glare into my rearview mirror, I shifted my car into park and hit the button to kill the engine. I’d just barely managed to fit my sensible little compact car into this tiny space, and I wasn’t entirely sure that the giant gas-guzzler SUV behind me wouldn’t ding me on its way out.

I’d had to park nearly a block away from Celeste’s shop because all of the spaces in front of Between the Sheets were already filled. I’d have said that was good news for my friend’s business, but I had a feeling it was just a typical Saturday morning on the main street of Burton. The town tended to bustle on weekends.

And yeah, I was in a little bit of a pissy mood. I wasn’t exactly sure why. Today was the third day in a rare five-days-off break, and considering how much sleep I was getting—a hell of a lot more than normal—I should have been floating through life, sprinkling freaking fairy dust from my hands. But instead, I was growling, grunting, and grumping.

Did I realize deep down inside that this state of mind had something to do with one Wesley Crane and my last awkward encounter with him? Maybe. Was I going to admit that to myself or to anyone else? I was not.

That day last week, I’d given myself a stern lecture all the way from Savannah to my house. I had been prepared to see him again—or so I had told myself. When Linc had greeted me at the front door, I had been cool and relaxed, pretending that I didn’t have a care in the world. I’d oohed and ahhed over the changes and the finished walls and floors. I had laughed at Linc’s quips and had generally been a delight.

But the moment I’d caught sight of Wesley at the top of the steps—I’d been about halfway up at that point—the gig had been up. I’d nearly tumbled down backward, and I’d no longer had control of my breath, my heart—or my words.

That had been abundantly clear when I’d sniped at him. I’d been so flustered and embarrassed that I’d used a casual text from Coral as an excuse to run away.

I had two choices now, as I saw it: I could pull up my big-girl panties and start acting like a grown-ass woman, pretending that I’d never met Wesley before, treating him like a stranger. Which he basically was, come to think of it. I hadn’t seen him since we were teenagers, and that meant everything that had happened to him since was a mystery to me.

Or I could sell the house and never have to see Wesley again.

With a smothered sigh at my own ridiculousness, I yanked open the door to Celeste’s shop and stomped inside. My friend was standing at the counter, and she glanced up with a frown at the sound of the bell over the door ringing.

“Oh. Sabrina.” She blinked, tilting her head. “I didn’t expect you so soon.”

“You said you needed me here ASAP,” I reminded her. “Your text said it was an event-planning emergency.”

“Well, I might have been a little dramatic when I said that,” she conceded. “It’s not so much an emergency as it is that I needed your input on a few decisions.”

I threw up my hands. “And you couldn’t have just called me? We could have video chatted. Saved me time and a tank of gas.”

“No, because I wanted to see you.” She grinned. “You know, sometimes it’s just nice to spend a few hours with your bestie.”

“Uh-huh. But we have a date this weekend to help Coral find a dress for her big premiere shindig, remember? You’re both coming into the city to stay with me and shop?”

“Well, sure, but maybe I wanted to talk with just you. I thought we could discuss Coral’s date situation. Have you talked to the hematologist yet? Is he interested in being Coral’s escort that night?”

Damn. I’d been so preoccupied with my own life that I’d neglected to reach out to the guy as I’d promised.

“Um, I’ve laid the groundwork,” I answered, using mental reservations to justify the fib. I planned to take care of it, and I’d do it the minute I went back to work.

“Okay, well—” Whatever Celeste had been about to say was lost as the bell over the door rang again, admitting a pretty woman with long dark hair in large sunglasses.

“Jenna, wow, great to see you. What a surprise.” Celeste rounded the end of the counter and crossed the store to greet the newcomer.

“Um.” She took off her glasses. “I just stopped to pick up the thing I ordered.”

“Yeah, of course.” Celeste nodded vigorously. “The peignoir you wanted for the romantic weekend Linc’s planning for you.”

“Right. That’s it.” Jenna’s smile seemed a little . . . relieved? But before I could I mull over that fact, I realized that I recognized her name.

“Wait a second. Your name is Jenna? And your husband is Linc Turner?”

“Guilty and guilty.” She offered me her hand. “You wouldn’t happen to be Dr. Hudson, would you?”

“Also guilty. But please, call me Sabrina.” I shook her hand. “Linc speaks of you often. I’m so glad to meet you.”

“He’s said nice things about you, too. And he’s kind of got a crush on your house.” Jenna rolled her eyes. “Which isn’t as unusual as you’d hope it would be. Also, I’ve heard Celeste talk about her best friends and all of the great work you’re doing for the benefit this Christmas.”

“I was saying to Jenna the other day that Coral and I are dying to get a look at the house, but that you won’t let us until it’s finished.” Celeste pretended to pout.

“You saw it in the before stage when I’d just bought it, and then you’ll get to see the massive transformation,” I told her and then turned back to Jenna. “What Linc’s doing there—it really is beyond my wildest hopes. Every time I get to take a look, I’m completely blown away.”

“He’s got mad skills, my man,” Jenna waggled her eyebrows. “And his team is incredibly talented, too. Have you met them all?”

“Uh . . . most of them,” I hedged, not loving where this was going.

“We had everyone out to our house for a barbecue last weekend, and I got to know some of the newer people.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “One of the guys in particular . . . he was telling me—” Jenna closed her eyes and shook her head. “Fuck it, Celeste. I’m crap at this kind of thing.”

I glanced from my friend to Jenna Turner. “What?”

Celeste groaned. “It’s not you, Jenna. This was all stupid. Men and their lame ideas.” Wrinkling her nose, she leaned back against the display case behind her. “Linc put Jenna up to this, and she recruited me to help.”

“What are you talking about?” I was bewildered.

“Wesley Crane.” Jenna wrung her hands. “Linc wanted to figure out a way to make sure you knew what really happened with Wesley all those years ago. And he thought maybe if I just kind of casually brought it up in front of you, maybe you’d listen.”

My cheeks went hot. “This was Wesley’s idea?”

“No, not at all.” Jenna shook her head. “This was totally my husband’s brainstorm. He has a huge heart and good intentions, but he doesn’t always stop and think.”

“If Wesley wants me to know something, he can just tell me himself,” I sniffed. “I don’t know why it even matters.”

“But you won’t stick around long enough to let him give you his version,” Celeste reminded me. “And Sabrina, seriously, you need to hear this.”

I rounded on her. “You already know?”

Guilt etched in her eyes, she nodded. “Jenna told me.”

For a long moment, I was silent, curiosity battling with stubbornness in my head. Finally, I shrugged.

“Okay. Tell me what you know. It’s not going to make any difference,” I hastened to add. “There’s no excuse for what Wesley Crane did to me back then.” Lifting my chin, I clenched my jaw. “Absolutely none.”

***

“Oh, my God,” I murmured, my arms tingling as I rubbed my hands over them. “That’s . . . it’s really true? You’re sure this wasn’t just Wesley spinning a pathetic story to get sympathy?”

“It’s true,” Jenna assured me. “Linc believed him, but he figured you’d have questions, so he did the research. There were a couple of police reports from years ago, when Wesley’s mom was still angry enough to report the abuse. Then there’s the death notice for Wesley’s father. It was right when he said it happened. It’s all legit, Sabrina. He didn’t know he would be leaving town that night. But he couldn’t risk his father finding them.”

From the vantage point of adulthood and new information, I remembered a few incidents now with new clarity. Wesley’s father had rarely been part of our lives, and when he had shown up, things had been tense. I recalled that when Wesley had vanished, my own dad had been thoughtful and sober, gently advising me to give my friend the benefit of the doubt. I wondered what Daddy would say now if I told him what I’d learned.

“I feel horrible for what I said to him,” I confessed to Celeste and Jenna. “He was trying to tell me, but I wouldn’t listen. I couldn’t see beyond my own hurt.”

“The good news is that you still have a chance to make up for that,” Celeste reminded me. “Wesley is here. Just a few miles away, putting in hours on your house. You could go out there and tell him . . . well, talk to him.”

“Does it even matter?” I wondered out loud. “We were kids. We were friends, but barely more than that. Life tore us apart . . . and maybe we should just forgive each other and move along.”

The other two women sighed in unison. “Sabrina, I don’t know you, but I’d have to wonder why you were so angry—and shaken—by seeing Wesley again if it really means so little to you.” Jenna patted my arm.

“You told us once that he was your first love,” put in Celeste. “You owe it to sixteen-year-old year to at least see if there’s something there.”

“But how do I do it?” I gnawed my bottom lip.

“I think you just drive over to the house, and you walk up to Wesley . . . and you ask him to tell you everything. You tell him you’re ready to listen.”

The idea of doing that made me break out in cold sweat. What if Wesley blew me off? What if he was angry about how snarky and mean I’d been? What if he told me that I’d never mattered enough to miss? What if he thought that I’d been making a big deal out of something that did mean that much?

But at the same time, beneath the terror and uncertainty beat a small yet persistent thrum of hope.

“All right,” I said at last. “I’ll do it. I’ll go see him. I’ll talk with Wesley.”

Want to know what comes next?

Episode Six is coming next Friday!

Sabrina and Wesley finally talk. And listen.

And . . .well, wait and see!

The tale of Coral’s movie premiere date

is coming in this month, too.

What about Celeste?

Her romance is revealed in

TITS THE SEASON

which is part of the holiday benefit anthology

TINSEL AND TATAS

Releasing October 5th

Preorder Tinsel and Tatas Today:

Amazon

Apple Books

Kobo

Google

Barnes & Noble

Bosom Buddies Episode Two

 

If you missed Episode One, read it here.

 

Wesley

 

I never thought I’d see her again.

Okay, so I hadn’t exactly been looking for Sabrina Hudson in the fourteen years since we’d last been together. For the first year, not thinking about her had been a matter of self-preservation. It had hurt too much, caused me too much gut-deep pain to let my mind linger on memories of her deep brown eyes, the way her whole face lit up whenever I said something she found amusing.

And then . . . well, life had gone on as it does when you’re young and grappling to figure out basic shit like surviving high school, getting into college, and supporting yourself. If I’d thought of Sabrina, it had been occasional and fleeting, with the pang of regret a little more bearable each time.

When I’d seen the name Hudson on the schedule that Linc had sent out to the crew, sure, I’d thought about Sabrina and her family. But as I’d noted a moment ago, it wasn’t exactly an unusual last name. It hadn’t even occurred to me this project we were working—this incredible sleeping beauty of a house—might belong to my Sabrina.

Because that was still how I thought of her. In my mind and in my memory, she was still my Brina girl, the first one I’d loved, the person who I’d most suffered over when Mom and I left town.

She was staring at me now, and in her gaze, I saw a mix of confusion and trepidation give way to disbelief and wonder.

“Wesley?” She breathed my name. “Is it really—how are you—I mean, what are you doing here?”

Of all the questions I was sure Sabrina was about to ask, that hadn’t been the exact one I’d expected. I gave my head a little shake just to get loose of the cobwebs before I answered.

“I work for Kent and Turner. I’m on this project, restoring this—well, uh, I guess your house.” I lifted one shoulder. “How’s that for a hell of a coincidence?”

“Yeah, coincidence,” she echoed, her eyes still stuck to my face. “It’s been—God, I haven’t seen you in—”

“Fourteen years,” I finished for her. “I know. I figured I’d never see you again. Every now and then I check on social media to see if you’re there. I saw a profile that looked like it might have been you, but it was ten years old, and nothing after.”

Sabrina wrinkled her cute little nose, making me want to reach out a finger to stroke down its length and smooth those bumps.

“I don’t do social media,” she said. “It’s not my thing. I had a couple of accounts for half a year back in college, but I hated how it made me feel, so I got rid of them.”

“Ah, so that was you.” I grinned. “You went to Carolina for college, huh? Long way from Waukesha.”

“Yeah, that was kind of the point,” she shot back. “I wanted to start over, far away from everyone I knew back in Wisconsin. I was ready to stop being poor little Sabrina Hudson whose mom died when she was in kindergarten.”

“No one ever thought of you that way.” I frowned, thinking back. “At least I didn’t.”

“You were one of the few. Every year, I had to deal with a new set of teachers who handled me with kid gloves, like I might shatter. And every time there was something in school that involved mothers, everyone looked at me like I was going to have a meltdown. Like the reminder that I didn’t have one was going to break me.” Sabrina pressed her fingers to her temples as though she was holding her head together, and suddenly I remembered that was her stress tell—what she did every time she was grappling with something huge like a killer exam or bickering friends. I hated the idea that I was the one causing her angst right now.

***

“Hey.” I couldn’t help myself. I lifted my hand to brush her fingers away from her hairline. “It’s okay, Brina girl. Maybe the rest of them were idiots, but I always knew you were made of stronger stuff.”

For just a moment, her lips curled into the ghost of a smile, and her eyes met mine with a muted gratitude. And then she seemed to remember where we were and everything that had happened between us. She stepped backward again.

“Yes, you always said I was tough.” The smile turned brittle. “Guess that’s why you figured I could handle it when you left me without a word. You never looked back, did you?”

“Sabrina.” Slowly, I shook my head. “No. That wasn’t what happened at all. It was—I didn’t have a choice.”

“That’s bullshit.” She tossed her head, making her wavy black hair dance. “Everything is a choice, Wesley. You moved away without giving me any notice, any explanation at all. You could have dropped me a note. You could’ve sent me a text. But you decided I wasn’t worth the time or energy.”

“It wasn’t that way,” I began again, but she rolled her eyes and cut me off.

“It wasn’t even the fact that you skipped town the day after—” She stopped abruptly, biting her lip, and I knew what she’d been about to say. “But we were friends, Wesley. You’d been my closest friend since preschool. We went through so much crap together, and I thought you were the one person I could always depend on. In a sea of craziness, you were my reliable float. After you left—” She turned around, giving me her back, but the way her head bowed, I knew she was hiding tears.

That just about killed me.

Who knew that all these years later, Sabrina Hudson still had the ability to rip out my beating heart?

“Sabrina, you have to realize that if there had been any way for me to reach out to you, I would have done it. God, don’t you think it destroyed me, having to leave everything and everyone behind me when we left? And if you don’t know, after all the years we were friends, after I told you that night how much I cared for you, if you didn’t know that you were at the top of the list of people I’d miss, then . . .” I trailed off. “Maybe there’s nothing I can say.”

“I guess not,” she whispered, the sound muffled since she was still facing away from me. “And if there’s nothing left for either of us to say, then I’m going home.” She waved one hand, gesturing vaguely to the space around us. “Tell Linc I was here and everything looks fine. Tell him I’ll be back next week to check on the progress.” She paused. “Please.”

“Don’t you want to take a look around? Check out what we’ve done upstairs?” I hated that my surprise appearance was robbing Sabrina of the joy of watching her house come back to life.

“No, not now.” She turned toward the door, and once again, she held her head between her hands. “I just came off a long shift at the hospital, and I need to get home to sleep.”

There was so much I wanted to ask her. She worked at the hospital, so did that mean she’d realized her long-held dream of becoming a doctor? Where was she living now, while she waited for her house to be ready? How had the last fourteen years treated her? Was she married, living with someone . . . did she have a family to raise in this rambling old house?

But I could tell that she was on the verge of falling apart, and I knew that if I witnessed that, it would only make her resent me more. So I didn’t ask any questions. Instead, I stayed where I was, hooking my thumbs in the beltloops of my jeans.

“Okay, Sabrina. I’ll let him know.”

She nodded and reached for the doorknob, hesitating only a second before she stepped across the threshold.

“I didn’t know what happened to you, Wesley, and I always wondered. I’m glad you’re alive and well.”

Before I could respond, she was out the door, pulling it shut behind her. I listened to the sound of her feet on the porch and then crunching on the gravel of the drive, but I went back upstairs before the slam of her car door.

A few minutes later, I heard the familiar rumble of Linc’s truck, and shortly after that, he climbed the steps to find me.

“Got those nails,” he announced, tossing me a small paper bag. “But we need to order some more from the company because the local hardware store doesn’t stock them on a regular basis.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “I thought what we had on hand would work, but these will be better.”

“Agreed.” Linc squinted at me, frowning. “Was that the homeowner I passed on the way in? I slowed down to wave, but she just kept on going.”

“Yep.” Tension made me a little terse. “She came by to check on things, I guess.”

“Didn’t hang around very long, did she? Was she happy with what she saw so far?”

I hesitated, unsure of how much to say. “She didn’t get any further than the foyer. I went downstairs, and I think she was surprised that she wasn’t here alone.” I opened the bag and pretended to examine the tiny finishing nails. “Turns out that she’s someone I knew . . . a long time ago.”

“Oh.” Linc watched me, waiting for me to go on, and when I didn’t, when my face went hot, his eyebrows rose. “Ohhhh. Old girlfriend?”

“Not quite. Kind of, maybe. We were just kids, and things—didn’t end the way I’d hoped. Or the way she’d hoped, I guess.” I closed the bag of nails again, crimping the paper to keep them from spilling. “It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time and a good ear,” Linc offered.

“That’s okay.” I shook my head. “I know you need to get home, and I’ve lost the light here, anyway. Mind dropping me at the office on your way?” All of us working on the house tried to share rides to and from the site to cut down on too many vehicles in the driveway.

“No problem.” Linc waited as I grabbed my tools and stood up to follow him down the stairs. “You know, that offer to listen isn’t going to expire. Any time you need to talk, I’m here.”

“Thanks. You’re a good guy, Linc.”

He paused at the back door, his smile wry as he dug in his pocket for the key to lock up.

“I wasn’t always, and that’s what makes me a good listener. I don’t judge, and I believe in second chances.”

I nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

But as we trudged to the pickup, I wasn’t thinking about Linc’s offer. Instead, I was hoping that maybe, somehow, Sabrina might also be an advocate of second chances.

It was unlikely. She didn’t seem disposed to hear me out or to understand what had gone done all those years ago in Wisconsin.

But a guy could hope.

***************************

What’s the story between Sabrina and Wesley?

And will she give him a second chance?

Read next week and find out!

If you missed Episode One, read it here.

Meanwhile, if you haven’t read the first four Burton romances,

catch up on them here!

Celebrating!

Once upon a time, I wrote a book . . . and then I wrote a bunch more. I published my very first book (FEARLESS) on December 6, 2011, about seven and a half years ago.
I remember the feelings I had, the trepidation, the anxiety–and then the inevitable let-down, because honestly, not much changed. I didn’t hit top lists or even sell more than a couple of copies. {Side note: there was good reason for that. I had no idea what I was doing, the cover sucked and I didn’t know from promotion and PR in those days!}
For subsequent releases, I had more realistic expectations. I didn’t wait for accolades and confetti; I did everything I could and hoped for the best, and that’s still been my philosophy.
But I have a confession: from the beginning, from that first book, I wanted the celebration. I wanted my family and friends to be excited for me. This was huge in my world! I wanted to go out to dinner, I wanted to talk with people who’d read the book, I wanted flowers and wine and  . . . well, recognition.
In the years between that debut and now, today, when my 75th book went live, I’ve gotten used to low-key releases. The positive part is that I don’t stress. I don’t worry. I know authors who need Valium to get through each new release day, and I’m glad I don’t. That being said . . .
I still want the celebration.
And that’s why today, this very morning, I had an epiphany. If I want the celebration, by gum, I’m going to make it myself. Today I’m not doing housework or hunkering down to hit my word count. Today, I’m going to treat myself to a leisurely bath. I’m going to read for pleasure. I’m going to eat something delicious for lunch, and when my family comes home, we’re going to have a celebratory dinner (they don’t know this yet).
What’s more, I’m not containing my celebration to only one day. No, sirree! Tomorrow, we’re having a family dinner to recognize that 75 releases is a damn good thing to appreciate. Thursday, I might go get a pedicure. On Friday, I’m taking the whole entire day completely off. And Saturday, I’m going to the beach.
I think that’s one of the most important lessons I’ve learned in my fifties. We have to ask for what we need–and if no one else is going to supply that need, we have to be willing to do it ourselves.
Meanwhile, I want to recognize that YOU my amazing readers always make me feel special, loved, appreciated and yes, celebrated. My Temptresses especially post on release days, share the memes and pictures and tell their friends that they LOVE my books. All of you truly are my joy, and I thank you for that.
So celebrate with me this week. You deserve it, too! Watch on Instagram as I chronicle the celebrations . . . and tell me your favorite ways to mark special occasions. <3

The royal wedding was only the beginning of my happy ending . . .

I’m now a full-fledged member of the royal family. That means all my problems are over, doesn’t it?

Apparently not.

Even though I’m now a princess-by-marriage and a duchess-by-title, I’m still the same Kyra who’s prone to putting her sneaker-clad foot into her mouth.

It’s a good thing Nicky loves me. Our work is thriving and our marriage is strong. Together, we can tackle any challenge. But it’s not until our peaceful existence is threatened that I realize how precious it is.

And they lived happily ever after . . . right?

Live Now!

Apple Books Amazon Kobo B&N Press Google

This is not your typical royal love story.

It’s been such a wonderful week of release fun since The Anti-Cinderella debuted on May 15th. What better way to celebrate than with a real royal wedding! How nice of Harry and Meghan to schedule their big day when they did. I really appreciated the boost and the nod.

Did you get your copy yet of the book yet?

iBooks/Amazon/Nook/Kobo/Google/Books2Read

You can read teasers right here and here.

And you can check out the play list here!

What reviewers are saying . . .

“I enjoyed (it) that much that I read it in one sitting. Through the book I felt everything they were feeling, laughed with them and felt sad with them as well.”

“This story made me have all the “feels”.”

“The characters are strong and the story flows smoothly. This is the first book of the series and I will be watching for the next one.”

“The book has real emotion, characters with depth, humour, sadness, romance, love, supportive friends and family. I couldn’t put it down.”

“With powerful, realistic emotions, sweet love, drama, humor and passion this is a pleasurable and entertaining read.”

“The book has real emotion, characters with depth, humor, sadness, supportive friends and family, romance, humor and love. I was thoroughly invested in the characters and could not put the book down once I started it.”

***

More news!

I’m thrilled to share that this book is only the beginning of the fun! There will be two more installments in the main Anti-Cinderella story: The Anti-Cinderella Takes London and The Anti-Cinderella Conquers the World. 

You can preorder the London book exclusively on iBooks . The preorder will go live on Amazon, Nook, Kobo and Google in the fall. And if you want to see the amazing cover, it’ll be revealed later this summer on my Temptress group. 

The Anti-Cinderella Takes London

Falling in love with a prince wasn’t something I planned . . .

When I reconnected with the first guy I ever kissed, I never dreamed I’d end up moving to England to be closer to him. But Nicky and I are in love, and living together was the next logical step. 

If I thought dating royalty was a tough gig when I was living in the USA, I’m learning that it’s even more challenging now that I’m in London. Every move I make, every word I say, is under the microscope. Becoming part of Nicky’s family while staying true to who I am isn’t easy. 

Nicky makes everything worthwhile. The hours when we’re alone together are paradise. And if the press and the pressure are the price I have to pay for him . . . I’ll choose Nicky, every single time.

After all, London’s just another town. Right? 

Tawdra Kandle writes romance, in just about all its forms. She loves unlikely pairings, strong women, sexy guys, hot love scenes and just enough conflict to make it interesting. Her books include young adult and new adult paranormal romance, new adult and adult contemporary romance and adult paramystery romance. She lives in central Florida with a husband, kids, sweet pup and too many cats.

And yeah, she rocks purple hair.

You can follow Tawdra on Amazon to receive updates on her releases. You can also visit her website for more information, and subscribe to her newsletter  for sales announcement, special exclusive content and promotions!

If you enjoy Tawdra’s books, join the Naughty Temptresses!

Facebook/Twitter/Instagram/Pinterest/Spotify/

BookBub/Books2Read

 

Teaser Tuesday: JUST ROLL WITH IT

Sometimes, the best-laid plans don’t work out the way you expect.

When law school student Amanda Simmons shows up at her friends’ engagement party, she’s not expecting to indulge in a wild one-night stand with the bride’s older brother. On the other hand, Vincent DiMartino is smart, sexy—and safe. He doesn’t want more than a quick hook-up, either. 

Or so she thinks. 

Vincent isn’t interested in long-term, and he has no desire for a serious relationship. His job as a pastry chef in his family’s restaurant demands all of his time and attention. His night with Amanda is supposed to be just that—one night. But he doesn’t bargain for how much he enjoys her sense of humor, her intelligence and her sass . . . not to mention to her unrepentant sensuality. 

Now that he realizes he wants more than just her body, can Vincent persuade Amanda to take a chance on him? Will she risk her heart on the man who was only supposed to be a fling? 

Sometimes plans go awry. And sometimes, you just have to roll with it.

JUST ROLL WITH IT is the long-awaited and anticipated fourth book in the Perfect Dish Romances. It’s releasing April 7th (my birthday!!) and I have a sexy sneak peek right here–just for you. After you read, be sure to click the PREORDER button below and get your copy ordered!

“Amanda.” My voice was rough. “Can I ask you a question?”

She rolled to her side to look up at me, and the neckline of her dress gaped as her boobs pressed together. Sweet mother Mary.

“Of course. You can ask me anything.”

I cleared my throat. “Are you wearing pantyhose or a garter? It’s been killing me all night, looking at your legs and wondering. I know I won’t get to find out for myself tonight, so humor me. Give me something for the spank bank.”

“Hmmmm.” One of her eyebrows quirked up. “Which would you find more . . . interesting?”

“Oh, come on,” I groaned. “Don’t make me choose. Just tell me.”

“What if I said neither?” Her fingers curled around the end of her dress, and slowly she began tugging it up. “I don’t like pantyhose. And garters can be uncomfortable sometimes. So when I have to wear stockings, I like . . . these.”

The green material moved out of the way to reveal a wide band at the top of the sheer black hose, which gave way to her creamy skin and then a hint of red lace.

Suddenly, my driver’s seat wasn’t so comfortable.

“You trying to kill me? Jesus God, woman. Look at you.”

“Sorry?” She sounded anything but.

I scowled, but a plan began to form in my mind. At the next intersection, I hung a sharp left and floored the gas, hugging the curves that took us off the main road and closer to the beach.

“Where are we going?” Amanda pushed up onto her elbows and peered out the window. “This doesn’t look like how Mom and I drove down from the hotel.”

“It’s called a detour, sweetheart.” When she tilted her head questioningly, I added, “Don’t worry. I’m not dragging you off into the woods for a quick fuck.”

“That’s a relief. I think.” She took a deep sniff, frowning a little. “Are we close to the ocean?”

“Yep.” I pulled into a small dirt lot. “This is Dawman’s Cove. Carl and I used to come down here sometimes to fish when we were kids. Well, more than kids . . . after Carl got his license and could drive us. It’s quiet, and not that many people come down here.” I turned off the car and stuck the keys in my jacket pocket. “C’mon.”

“Wait. Where are we going?” Amanda scrambled to sit up. “Vincent, it’s fucking cold out there. I don’t have a coat or anything. Just this little wrap. I’m going to freeze.”

“I’m not going to let that happen, baby.” I jogged around the car and tugged her out of her seat. “We won’t stay out here long. I just . . . I want to kiss you under the stars tonight. I want to hold you in the dark and hear the ocean pounding and believe in crazy things like eternity and forever.”

Her eyes were luminous as she closed her fingers around mine. “Vincent, just when I think you’re one thing, you shock the hell out of me and make me realize you’re something else.”

I laughed. “Don’t give me too much credit. I’m just not sure I’ll make it back home tonight in one piece after seeing what’s under your dress, and I need something to tide me over, since I don’t know when I’ll get the chance to see you again.”

She hesitated only a second before I knew she’d acquiesced. Keeping my hand firm on hers, I led her through the dark, down the uneven wooden plank walk until we were on the edge of the small secluded beach.

“Tide’s high,” I observed. “Plus, if I make you walk on the sand, you’ll break your ankle in those shoes.”

“You’re probably right.” She was breathless. “It’s so dark and quiet here. If it were summer, we could go skinny dipping.”

The image of Amanda dancing naked in the waves was enough to push me over the edge. I wrapped my arms around her, pressing her body against mine until there wasn’t a breath of space between us. With one hand, I gathered the skirt of her dress up until her leg was bared. My fingers skimmed over the top of her stocking and then under the lace of her panties.

“Vincent.” She moaned my name. “What’re you doing?”

“Making a new memory for you, baby. I want you to remember how good we can be. Once you get back to the city and return to your real life tomorrow, you’re going to start to second-guess everything we talked about tonight. You’ll began to doubt what we said. I figure maybe I can give you a reason to believe in me.”

Bending my head, I covered her lips, tasting what I’d been craving for the past three months. Her tongue met mine, and as I stroked the inside of her mouth, I dragged my fingers over the wet and swollen folds between her legs. Her breath hitched, and she canted her hips to rock into my hand.

“God, Vincent.” She mumbled against my lips. “What do you do to me?”

“I make you feel good, babe.” My thumb pressed into her clit, and she cried out, gripping my shoulders and letting her forehead drop onto my chest. “I’m going to fuck you with my fingers, right here, and you’re going to come hard.”

She made some kind of undecipherable noise that was either consent or denial, but she didn’t pull away from me. I slid two fingers inside of her and pumped them hard, gritting my teeth as my cock grew painfully hard beneath the zipper of my fly.

“Vincent.” She was grinding into me now, her eyes closed and her lips open as she chased the pleasure. “God, oh god. Can you—god, harder. Right—right there.” With sharp gasp, she arched her neck, her legs stiffening and locking my hand where it was. I slowed the movement of my fingers, but I didn’t pull them away until she sagged against me.

“Are you cold?” I murmured into her ear as I held her tighter.

She shook her head. “I don’t feel anything right now except pure and unfiltered bliss. I think maybe I’m floating.”

I chuckled. “That good?”

“Mmmmm.” She hummed and lay her head on my shoulder. “But this isn’t fair to you. I’m all about reciprocity, but no way in hell am I getting down on my knees out here.”

“That’s okay. We’ll bank that IOU for the next time we’re together, okay?”

Amanda sighed. “Which will be . . .”

I snorted. “With that kind of incentive promised to me? Soon, baby. It’ll be soon.”

Preorder Here!

Books2Read/Amazon/iBooks/Nook/Kobo/Google

1 2 3 5