The Hot One(67)
“Hey, angel.”
“Hey, handsome.” She comes to my side and drops a soft kiss on my cheek. Her hair brushes against my skin.
“Mmm,” I murmur, and I’m about to tug her onto the table with me, even though she has a strict no-screwing-at-work policy.
But then, she drops to her knees.
Startled, I prop myself up on my elbow. “What’s up?”
She’s not just on her knees. She’s on one knee. She holds a black jewelry box. “This is where we started again. Where you showed up and made a grand gesture to win my heart. And you won it big time. Now I’m asking if you’re ready for the next big gesture, because I know I am.”
I blink as it registers. As the sheer enormity of this moment hits me. She’s ready. She’s fucking ready.
I part my lips to speak, but she’s faster.
“Ask me again,” she says, her voice soft but sure.
And I suppose it couldn’t be more fitting that I’m naked. I slide out from under the sheet, yank her up to the table so she’s perched right next to me on the edge, then take the box in my hand. “Will you marry me?”
She grins like the happiest person in the world, and she nods and nods and keeps on nodding. “Yes, yes, yes.”
I slide the ring on her finger, where it belongs. She holds up her hand and the diamond sparkles in the dimly lit room.
At last.
It took me nearly a decade to find my way back to her. But when the love of your life slips through your fingers, then you’re lucky enough to stumble into her life again, you do everything you can to win her back, even if you have to wait until she’s ready.
I waited. I did it step by step. I didn’t cut corners. I took my time.
She’s no longer the one who got away.
She’s the one I’m keeping close to my heart for all time.
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THE END
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Curious about Nicole? Find out who she falls for in THE WILD ONE, releasing in summer 2017!Sign up for my newsletter to receive an alert when these sexy new books are available! Here’s the sexy cover for THE WILD ONE and the blurb follows!
There are four words every guy wants to hear on the first date — “your place or mine?”
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That’s why when my hot-as-sin co-worker makes me a no-strings-attached offer that involves her place, my place, any place — as well as any position — I can’t refuse.
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After all, my job is like a coach and my goal is to help my fellow man figure out how to score a woman. My latest assignment for the good of mankind? Create a fail-safe, 100% battle tested, proven list of what to do or say to get a woman to fall into your bed — I mean, fall for you. So when Nicole says she’s game to work through my list in a hands-on way, I take her up on her deal even with her one condition.
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There’s no way I’ll want more from one woman than any position, any where, any night?
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Except . . . what if I do?
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****
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There are three little words most guys don’t want to hear on the first date.
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Not those…
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I mean these… “knock me up.”
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This single gal has had enough of the games, the BS and the endless chase. I know what I want most, and it’s not true love. It’s a bun in the oven, and I’m not afraid to hit up my sex-on-a-stick co-worker to do the job. Ryder is gorgeous, witty and wild — and he’s also a notorious commitment-phobe. That makes him the perfect candidate to make a deposit in the bank of me.
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I won’t fall for him, he won’t fall for me, and there’s no way baby will make three.
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Right?
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Stay tuned for THE WILD ONE, coming this summer!
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My next all-guy POV romantic comedy is JOY STICK and it releases in May! Turn the page for a sneak peek!
Coming Soon!
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Prologue
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Here’s something I want to know. Why the fuck does the term guilty pleasure even exist? If something brings you pleasure, don’t feel guilty.
Case closed.
But let’s just be perfectly clear—I’m not talking about stuff a dude should feel ten tons of remorse about. Like, being a dick to your boss or cheating on your woman. If that kind of shit brings you pleasure, then may all the guilt from the skies rain down on you, along with golfball-sized hail and toads too.
What I don’t get is why people feel bad about the good stuff in life they enjoy. Buying that pool table just because it looks fucking awesome in your living room. Or drinking the eighteen-year-old Scotch one night after a long day fixing an engine on a Mustang, instead of waiting for a special occasion to crack open the bottle.