Tamed

Tamed by Emma Chase




This one is for all the “nice” guys and “crazy” girls in the world. May you find each other and enjoy the roller coaster ride of life together.





Acknowledgments


By the time Tamed is released it will have been one year since Tangled, book #1 in the Tangled Series, was published. What an amazing, beautiful year it’s been! I’m tremendously grateful to be able to work with so many talented and dedicated individuals, who believe in me, my writing, and these fun, heartfelt stories.

Thanks to my super-agent, Amy Tannenbaum, and everyone at the Jane Rotrosen Agency for your wonderful guidance, encouragement, and support. Thanks to my editor, Micki Nuding, publicists Juliana and Kristen, and the entire Gallery Books family for all you’ve done to make these books more than they ever would’ve been without you. I’m always grateful for Nina Bocci of Bocci PR for your superb advisement and enthusiasm. Thanks to the tireless online bloggers for helping so many readers discover and fall in love with these characters—please never stop doing what you do!

I am so grateful for my readers—the best in the world. Thank you for each online post, email, and message—I read every one! Your excitement is humbling and inspiring. Thank you for loving these characters every bit as much as I do.

Finally, to my husband, my children, and my whole family: I love you. Thank you for your unending patience and encouragement—and for giving me a lifetime of golden comedic material.





Chapter 1


During the last few weeks, it’s been brought to my attention that sometimes women actually like to cry. They cry over books, TV shows, those awful abused-animal commercials, and movies—especially movies. Sitting down to purposely watch something you know will make you unhappy? It makes no frigging sense.

But that’s okay; I’m just going to chalk it up to another thing I will never understand about my girlfriend. Yes—I said girlfriend. Dee Warren is officially my girlfriend.

One more time for those in the back—girlfriend—Delores—mine.

Repeating it might make me sound like a Harry Styles–obsessed prepubescent girl, but I don’t give a damn. Because it was a hard-won victory—if you knew what I had to go through to make her mine, you’d understand.

Anyway, back to what I was saying. Chicks like to cry—but this isn’t one of those stories. There’s no dying best friends, no dark tortured pasts, no hidden secrets, no sparkly vampire breakups, and no kinky f*ckery.

Well . . . okay . . . there’s some kinky f*ckery—but it’s the happy kind.

This is a story about a player, who meets a slightly crazy girl. They fall in love and the player changes his ways forever. It’s a story you’ve probably heard before, maybe even from my buddy, Drew Evans. But the thing is, while he and Kate were figuring their shit out? There was this whole alternate universe going on with Delores and me that you don’t know about. So stick around, even if you think you already know the ending. Because the greatest part of a road trip isn’t arriving at your destination. It’s all the wild stuff that happens along the way.

Before we start, there’s some background info you may need to know. First off—Drew’s a great guy, a true best friend. If we were the Rat Pack, he’d be Frank Sinatra, I’d be Dean Martin. Although Drew and I are tight, we differ in our opinions about women. At this point in our tale, he sees himself as a bachelor for life. He’s got all these rules about never bringing a chick to his apartment, never dating someone he works with, and the Cardinal Rule: Never hook up with the same woman twice.

I, on the other hand, don’t care where I get laid—my place, her place, the observation deck of the Empire State Building.

That was a great night.

I’m also not opposed to seeing someone from the office—though most of the girls in my line of work are stressed out, chain smoking, coffee-obsessed women with an unpleasant chip on their shoulders. I have no problem hanging out with the same woman on multiple occasions, as long as the good times keep rolling. And someday, I imagine myself settling down—marriage, kids, the whole deal.

But while I’m looking for Mrs. Right? I’m having a blast with all the Ms. Wrongs.

Secondly, I’m a real glass-half-full kind of person. Nothing gets me down. I have a great life—a good career that lets me enjoy the best man-toys on the market, awesome friends, a weird but loving family. “Emo” doesn’t exist in my vocabulary, but YOLO should’ve been my middle name.

Next up is Delores Warren—Dee, if you want to stay on her good side. By today’s standards it’s an unusual name, but for her it’s a perfect fit. She’s unusual—different—in all the best kinds of ways. She’s brutally honest, emphasis on “brutal.” She’s strong and doesn’t give a rat’s ass what people think of her. She’s true to herself and makes no apologies for what she wants or who she is. She’s wild and beautiful—like an undomesticated thoroughbred that runs best without a saddle.

And that was where I almost went wrong. I wanted to tame her. I thought I had the patience for it, but I pushed too hard and pulled too much on the reins. So she broke them.

Are you offended that I compared the woman I love to a horse? Get the f*ck over it—this is not a tale the PC police will enjoy.