Especially when the player is the sinfully handsome, foul-mouthed Holden Sanders… my new library assistant.
The benched bad boy needed an image makeover, I needed to save my job, and his star status was just what the library ordered to raise awareness for our fundraising campaign. The press can’t get enough of Mr. Growly reading to kids.
It’s win-win and completely platonic.
Until I need a shoulder to cry on after drowning my heartbreak in too many margaritas. I only typed that invitation to his brawny biceps and perfect pectorals for fun–I never meant to hit send. Holden isn’t the kind of guy to care about tears and feelings, least of all mine. He’s made it clear good girls aren’t his type.
But he shows up–with his strapping shoulder, a box of tissues and a supersized bag of Doritos.
That’s when I realize there’s more to him than meets the eye.
One soulful, smoldering mistake of a kiss has me craving more, and the heat between us quickly builds to a blaze neither of us can control.
But I’m not the only one guarding secrets, and Holden’s might push us to the breaking point.
Even if I’m surrounded by books, I know better than to believe in storybook endings. And yet, I want to believe… Because I know he’s a keeper
“Mare, I had no idea what I was in for when you stormed out of the library that day, looking to kill me for skirting my parental responsibilities.”
She squints, then her expression turns wry. “I’d never kill a person.” She tilts her head from side to side, considering. “Well, unless you burned a book.”
Nodding, I kiss her softly. “I respect that. And I want you to know you can trust me. I know people have left you behind in your past, but I hope you believe me when I tell you I’m not going anywhere. I’m here for you.” As I say the words, I believe they’re true. If I move to England, I hope she loves me enough to come with me. Even if she hasn’t said the words.
I don’t know what I’m expecting. Maybe relief or acknowledgment that she’s not going anywhere either. I want to believe she feels the same way.
I don’t expect her forehead to crease and her eyes to glisten with tears, which swell until they can no longer be contained and roll down her cheeks before she buries her face in my shoulder.
Turning us to the side, I wrap her in my arms, as the flow of tears turns to quiet sobs. I smooth her hair and give her the outlet she needs, even though I feel guilty for making her cry.
With a sniff, she leans her head away and meets my gaze. Her wet eyes glisten above pink cheeks. I wipe a remaining tear away with the pad of my thumb and rub her back gently.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“You didn’t,” she whispers, wiping her eyes. A moment later she laughs at the lie. “It was stuck inside me. You just let it out.” She exhales, tucking the emotions away.
“You okay?” I want to tread carefully until I know where she is in her head.
Nodding, she reaches for my cheek and cups the side of my face. “Thank you for saying that. I’d never ask that of you, but thank you. I love you. So much.”
I’ve been waiting to hear those words. For a moment, I’m convinced that everything between us can stay this easy. We’re both cautious, but we can cross each new line together. It feels powerful to be able to do that with her.
“I know you’d never ask. That’s why I said it. I wanted you to know.”
“I’m not going anywhere either.”
I’m struck by a foreign but welcome feeling, a realization that I can’t go backward now. I can’t be okay without her in my world. I need to tell her about the Premier League, but it can wait another day. She likes to live in the present.
She loves me.
Everything between us is still so fragile and new and good. I don’t want anything to change us. One more day won’t hurt.
It’s a rough world out there, and we all sometimes need a good, romantic beach read, even if we can’t make it to the beach. I’ve spent many lazy days walking the streets of Paris and other gorgeous European cities, and if I’m doing it right, I’m bringing you a dash of romance and a vacay fantasy.
I can’t sit still, so when I’m not hiking, biking or running, I’m playing a very average game of tennis. Background music for writing undoubtedly features some U2, Lizzo, Billy Joel, Pink, Taylor Swift, and Led Zeppelin. Not necessarily in that order. And if I could only eat one food group, it would be cheese. Or wine. Or bread. Are those food groups? Whatever.
Fame. Money. Status. An infinite number of women standing ringside in hopes of one night with him. These are all the things Carter Reynolds loves about being MMA royalty. As a UFC Heavyweight champion, and the son of the illustrious Matt Reynolds, Carter thinks he has everything he could ever want.
Until he comes face to face with Emma Jameson—the one who got away. The pair are bonded by a secret from their past, one that none in their inner circle can ever know about…
Thanks to her father, Emma is no stranger to the MMA world. UFC Middleweight champion, Ryley Jameson, is known far and wide for his scandalous antics in and out of the ring. His fame put her in the spotlight at a very early age. It even led to her lucrative modeling career and the opportunity for her to travel the world. Now Emma is back with the family of fighters she left behind and quickly discovers a darkness that has wriggled its way into the MMA fold.
Someone demands retribution for the sins of the past, and they’ve chosen to make Emma their first target. Determined to keep her safe, Carter will do whatever it takes to protect her, even if that means putting his life on the line.
As hidden truths are revealed, Carter and Emma find that no one in their circle is safe… and this is only the beginning.
Out of all the jobs I’ve had to do in my lifetime, this one was the hardest. I couldn’t concentrate with Carter’s hands on me. My photoshoot with Ryan only lasted a few minutes, but it felt like an eternity with Carter.
Chris clapped his hands. “All right, we’re done. You two sure did steam up my camera.”
Heat rising to my cheeks, I walked away to put distance between Carter and me, but he followed close on my heels. “We need to talk,” he demanded.
I jerked around, wishing like hell I didn’t have to look in his eyes. They were easy to get lost in, which was the last thing I needed right now. “About what?” I challenged, knowing he would keep following me if I didn’t acknowledge him. “You have your own life, and I have mine. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
Carter’s eyes darkened as he looked down at me, his body towering over mine. “It’s what you wanted too. Or am I wrong? You seem pissed, and for the life of me, I don’t know why. I did exactly what you wanted.”
That wasn’t true. At the time, I was too afraid to tell Carter what I truly wanted. It was best to cut ties and lose him for good than really get my heart broken. Sadly, who was I kidding? It broke anyway.
A laugh escaped my lips, but there was no humor to it. “That’s for damn sure. The second I left for New York, you ended up cock deep in every woman you could get your hands on.”
Carter stepped closer, and I had no choice but to back up. “And you ended up with that fucktard downstairs. Are you two getting back together?”
The audacity was mind-boggling. Carter had no right to be angry about anything. Crossing my arms over my chest, I shot him a nasty glare. “That’s none of your business.”
The door opened, and Aleah came out, carrying my bag. What was she doing? She waved at me with a sheepish grin on her face. “Hey, girl. I’m going to be a while finishing up the interview with Ryan. Do you mind if Carter gives you a ride back to my place?”
“Wait, what?” I gasped, panic rising in my chest. “No, that’s not going to work.”
“Please,” she begged. “I don’t want you having to stay here. You’ll be bored out of your mind.”
Shaking my head, I said no a million times, but she completely ignored me. Aleah handed my bag to me and quickly took off for the door, waving as she hurried away. “I’ll see you later,” she shouted, the door shutting behind her.
Everything happened so fast that all I could do was stand there in shock. “This can’t be happening.” But once the shock wore off, I stormed to the door. “I’m calling a cab.”
Carter ran up beside me and slammed the door when I tried to open it. “No, you’re not.”
My eyes burned so hot I could feel the fire in my veins. “Like hell, I’m not. Get out of my way, Carter.”
He kept his hand on the door. “I heard about the letter, Emma. It’s not safe for you to be out and about alone.”
Of course, someone had to tell him. “I’m fine,” I snapped. “I can take care of myself. If you want me to show you, I can.” Carter smirked, and I shook my head. “Never mind. You’d probably like that too much.”
Carter shrugged. “Maybe so. But right now, you’re coming with me, even if I have to haul you over my shoulder and carry you right past your boyfriend. That’ll end up a giant fucking mess. He’s already told me you’re off-limits. I’d hate to have to break his legs before his next game.”
Carter had always been true to his word, and I had no doubt he wouldn’t hesitate to follow through on his threat. I couldn’t let that happen. “Fine,” I grumbled. “Take me to Aleah’s. The sooner we get out of here, the faster I can get away from you.” Carter opened the door, and we stepped into the elevator, his body so achingly close. “Seriously? Can you give me some space?”
“Nope. I like where I’m standing,” he countered, his tone smug.
Much to my dismay, I liked it too. “You’re such a pain in the ass.”
Carter chuckled, his laugh sending shivers through my body. “Me being this close never bothered you before.”
I didn’t want to hate Carter, but I did. Yes, I decided to move to New York, and I knew something serious wouldn’t work between us, not when he was about to start competing in the UFC. The distance would’ve torn us apart. I never realized how angry and bitter I’d become seeing him with all those different women. Over time, it was easier to despise him than hold onto my true feelings.
When the elevator doors opened, I stepped out into the lobby and glanced over at Carter, still bare-chested in his athletic shorts. “Don’t you have some clothes you can change into?”
“Yep,” he answered. “That’s why you’re coming with me to the hotel.”
I stopped right in the middle of the lobby floor. “I’m not doing that.”
Carter turned around, his face grave as he moved closer. “Believe it or not, Emma, but I’m honest to God, truly worried about you.” Quickly, he glimpsed around at the people in the lobby who’d all stopped to watch us. “Now that I’m here,” he said, his voice smooth and deep, “I’m not leaving you alone for something to happen to you.”
His protectiveness was what made me fall for him in the first place. He had always been the serious one out of our group, but he was gentle when he needed to be. Hearing his words only confused me more.
“Why do you care?” I breathed.
Carter brushed a thumb over my cheek. “Because I do.”
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author L. P. Dover is a southern belle living in North Carolina with her husband and two beautiful girls. Before she began her literary journey she worked in periodontics, enjoying the wonderment of dental surgeries.
She loves to write, but she also loves to play golf, go on mountain hikes and white-water rafting, and has a passion for singing. Her two youngest fans expect a concert each and every night before bedtime, usually Christmas carols.
Dover has written countless novels in several different genres, but her favorite to write is romantic suspense. However, she has found a new passion in romantic comedy, especially involving sexy golfers. Who knew the sport could be so dirty and fun to write about.
Writer of all things untamed, romantic and free, Ivy Wild never planned on becoming a romance novelist. In fact, she hated romance as a kid and was quite proud of that fact. Basically, life is weird.
Married to her own alpha hero, she currently lives in various places of the world at various times thanks to his military career.
