Alexa Padgett's Blog: Alexa's Blog

Magnetic Medic is Book 1 in a series inspired by Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward’s British Bedmate. It is published as part of the Cocky Hero Club world, a series of original works, written by various authors, and inspired by Keeland and Ward’s New York Times bestselling series.

To find out more about all the Cocky Hero Club World books and authors, visit: www.cockyheroclub.com.

A sexy, new brother’s best friend romance from USA Today bestselling author Alexa Padgett.

He’s my brother’s childhood friend. I’m pregnant with another man’s baby. What a time to fall in love… 

Coming home seemed like a good idea at the time. My ex-fiancé split, I was almost done with my master’s degree, and I was already working at the family architecture firm. When I move in next door to pediatrician Ryder Mackay, I’m not expecting the connection—or the passion in his eyes that I feel deep in my soul. He’s the best doctor for my baby, but he’s not the guy I need. 

Still, the way Ryder looks snuggling my puppy—and my infant daughter—to his rock-hard chest makes me wish this sexy, smart, compassionate man was mine. 

Maybe, it’s pregnancy hormones. Or…maybe this magnetic pull is forever.

Aidy

I woke with a smile on my face for the first time in…I couldn’t remember when I’d last awakened happy. Sure, it was still dark outside, and I had leg cramps, but none of that dampened my good mood—a first for me after months of consistent despondency.

Dinner last night with Ryder proved a revelation. He listened, considered what I said, and engaged me in a discussion about my green building passion. He’d showed me what I should be looking for in the people I wanted as friends. Sure, I had work colleagues, but, in those first weeks after my move, I’d needed to lick my wounds—and I’d been sure Jeff would call, begging my forgiveness. Making new connections, building relationships seemed pointless. 

But now, I’d committed to building a life in Providence. That intimated a need for companionship, and Ryder was a great first candidate. When I’d started to clear the plates, he’d told me to sit and relax, and he cleaned the entire kitchen, which was a true and beautiful luxury. I was a messy cook, which I minded more now that I was also the kitchen cleaner. 

While Ryder scrubbed, I ogled his forearms. Each time he flipped a dish to rinse, the muscles bunched and shifted. He was effortlessly sexy, and I appreciated his beauty. 

That’s what I planned to keep telling myself anyway, because I couldn’t actually let my mind go there—where it wanted. He led the candidates as my daughter’s pediatrician because I knew he would give my baby the best care possible, which made me calmer about the whole having-a-kid thing. Maybe, in time, Ryder would be a friend, but no way we’d be more than that. 

Even if I were interested in dating, and even if I trusted myself to find the right guy this go-round, jumping into a relationship now wouldn’t be smart. 

Still, not thinking of him as a potential lover would be easy if he weren’t so damned hot. And nice. And if his eyes stopped lingering on me like they could see every mussed and frazzled part of me and approved anyway.

When he left, my place expanded, leaving me adrift, so I’d brought my laptop to my bedroom. Settling back against the pillows, I shoved another under my computer and managed to complete an entire chapter of my thesis—the best one I’d written. I even outlined the next three thereafter, using my exuberance from the conversation with Ryder about interior space and its need to reflect a person’s taste as well as the exterior environment to dictate my fingers. Drilling into my area of interest made this paper easier to write.

If I stuck to a strict schedule, I might manage to complete the first draft by the beginning of February. While it sucked that I had to pay for another semester of tuition, an early February turn-around would give my advisor time to read and make further suggestions prior to the end of the semester. The idea of actually completing my degree made my face split into a smile, which widened further when I found the sticky note on my door the next morning. 

Thanks for dinner! It was so good I didn’t mind cleaning your mess.

Ryder

*

I went back into my place and scribbled a reply. 

You’re welcome. And here I was hoping for another of your corny pickup lines…

Don’t be a stranger.

Aidy.

I stuck my note to his door and headed into the office. Nico popped his head in, eyes wide when he found me standing at my drafting table. 

“You’re here early.” 

“Baby wasn’t interested in sleeping,” I replied. I continued to lean over my paper, straight-edge in hand. I completed the line and inched back to study my rendering. Sure, I could do most of this on the computer, and I would need to get the details into the appropriate CAD software in order to show the client, but I preferred the pencil-and-paper method my dad used to use. Like my love of interior that I’d inherited from my mom, my old-school methods made me feel closer to my dad.

“I don’t want you to tire yourself out,” Nico said. 

I turned to face him. 

“I thought it was best that I was here—you know, staying out of trouble.”

His lips flattened. “I’m sorry, Aidy. I don’t really think you’re trouble. Or in trouble.”

I tilted my head. “I think you do,” I said, slowly. “And I was a huge pain in high school, I know that, but I’m an adult, Nico. I’ve made choices I know you don’t agree with or approve of—”

“I don’t approve; you’re right. And I don’t think work is the appropriate place to discuss family issues.”

I gritted my teeth. My brother was such an uptight man. I let my pencil slide to the tray at the bottom. 

“You’re right. I just want you to know that trusting Jeff was a mistake. Running away from the issues I didn’t want to face prior to college was, too. I’m trying to rectify what I can.”

He tapped the door, shifting his feet. “Could you get me those plans by noon?”

I sighed. Getting through to him was harder than I expected. “Sure.”

Now that I had years between me and my angry, heartbroken responses to our parents’ deaths, I could admit my reckless partying and clandestine sexual encounters were irresponsible. Worse, those decisions nearly cost me my future. 

Nico had tried to rein me in, but I’d refused to take him seriously—until the day he dragged me from a party, kicking and screaming. It was still one of the most humiliating moments of my life. And it probably saved it as well. Or at least my opportunity to attend college and make something of myself. The girl my date went home with ended up pregnant and dropped out of school. 

I shuddered to realize how close I’d come to that fate. 

I frowned as I considered the problem from his viewpoint. 

Nico and I had years of anger, hurt, and animosity to work through.

Part of that came to a head later that afternoon.

“You can’t send Chloe those,” I implored. “That’s not the direction she wants to take.”

“These are solid designs,” he said, gesturing to the layouts on his computer screen.

“But it’s not right for their target—”

“So what do you propose, Aidalynn? This hotel is a big deal for our firm, and we have to give them our best work.”

“I agree. That’s why I think you should consider—”

“You know what? I’ll handle it. Clearly, you’re not ready for this.”

Not only did Nico use my full name—the one he knew I detested, no doubt in an effort to get me as ticked off as he was—he never even let me speak. At Nico’s request the week before, I’d been the one to field calls from Chloe, the project lead for the Macintosh Hotels, and she and I had really clicked. 

Between two working lunches and multiple phone calls, I now had a thick folder of The Mac’s current and future business plans. Corporate’s decision to go after the wealthy millennial market seemed rock solid and well thought out, which was why we’d talked at length about what, exactly, Millennial meant to Chloe and to The Mac. 

Nico wanted to send some staid, lame-ass interiors to Chloe. 

I slapped the renderings I’d done onto his desk. “You want to remove me from the meeting?” I gritted out. “What if I’m right? You could lose—”

“Go home, Aidy,” Nico said, his voice cold. “I don’t want you at this meeting.”

I drew myself up. “Fine. But be sure to show her my not-ready drawings because those are exactly what she asked for.”

I turned on my heel and walked out of the room. I made it back to my office, blinking back the tears I wouldn’t let fall. I heard Chloe arrive but continued to pack up my bag. A few minutes later, Chloe waltzed into my office, a sheaf of papers in hand, Nico trailing behind her. 

“I’m sorry you were called out and missed the beginning of our meeting, but I just had to tell you myself. These renderings of yours are splendid. Exactly the vibe we hoped for.”

Chloe’s British accent caused me to smile, and I refused to look at Nico as I answered. “I’m so glad you like them. Nico will be sure to incorporate any changes you need. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must be goi—”

“But I want to work with you,” Chloe said, sinking into the chair in front of my desk. 

I raised my gaze to Nico’s, unsure how to handle this complication. His jaw ticked, annoyance spread across his features. 

“I’m sure we can rearrange Aidy’s schedule and make that happen,” Nico said.

“Great. Because I wasn’t asking.” Chloe’s tone remained polite, but steel entered her words. The implication was clear: either she got her way, or she walked. 

Nico pressed his fingertips to the edge of my desk. “Thanks for taking this on,” he said.

A spark of warmth that Chloe felt strongly enough about my work to insist I deal with her directly built in my chest even as I hoped I wasn’t in over my head with this project. 

Nico expected me to fail—that’s why he’d pulled me from the meeting. 

I straightened my spine as I settled back in my chair, pulling a pad and pen closer to take notes. I refused to consider the possibility of failure. New Aidy was in charge, and she would not let her brothers—or herself—down.

Magnetic Medic is Book 1 in a series inspired by Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward’s British Bedmate. It is published as part of the Cocky Hero Club world, a series of original works, written by various authors, and inspired by Keeland and Ward’s New York Times bestselling series.

To find out more about all the Cocky Hero Club World books and authors, visit: www.cockyheroclub.com.

A sexy, new brother’s best friend romance from USA Today bestselling author Alexa Padgett.

He’s my brother’s childhood friend. I’m pregnant with another man’s baby. What a time to fall in love… 

Coming home seemed like a good idea at the time. My ex-fiancé split, I was almost done with my master’s degree, and I was already working at the family architecture firm. When I move in next door to pediatrician Ryder Mackay, I’m not expecting the connection—or the passion in his eyes that I feel deep in my soul. He’s the best doctor for my baby, but he’s not the guy I need. 

Still, the way Ryder looks snuggling my puppy—and my infant daughter—to his rock-hard chest makes me wish this sexy, smart, compassionate man was mine. 

Maybe, it’s pregnancy hormones. Or…maybe this magnetic pull is forever.

Aidy

I continued to whisk my sauce, unwilling to make a bigger deal about his staying. Ryder seemed a little shy and definitely off-kilter around me. While I’d been looking forward to a quiet evening alone, now that he was here, I wanted him to stay. I wanted to learn more about him, just as he seemed interested in me. 

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” Ryder said, his tone soft. 

“Yeah, me, too. Well, sort of. I mean, if he couldn’t handle the idea of fatherhood, how much worse would the situation get when he was actually a father?”

“Was he an architect, too?” 

I shook my head. “Jeff’s an aerial pilot with the forest service. That means he flies the planes that drop water or chemicals on large fires.”

“Ah. We don’t have many of those here, thankfully.”

I flashed him a small grin. “Too right.”

We were quiet, the sizzle of the vegetables in the pan a nice background to the silence. Finally, I blurted, “He was called out the day I told him about the baby, and, as far as I know, he still hasn’t returned to the apartment we shared even though I told his sister when I moved out.”

Jeff hopped from one fire to the next, offering to help in the huge Australian wildfires rather than return home to me. His sister sent me screenshots from a private group that showed just how Jeff was passing his time—and apparently he wasn’t shy about public displays of affection with other women. 

“That’s…”

“Terrible.” I sighed. “Clearly, I have terrible taste in men.”

“Had.”

My gaze flashed up to Ryder’s. “What?”

“You had terrible taste in men, but you’ve learned from your mistakes.”

I tilted my head and considered his statement. I smiled. “Right. I had terrible taste in my partner.”

After a long moment in which I began to wonder if he felt the tingle of awareness that caused my heart to patter faster, he cleared his throat, looking at the pan.

“You sure I can’t help with dinner?” 

“Nope. I like to cook. But thanks for offering. My brothers wouldn’t.” I shot him an impish grin. “Just like I never offer to help clean up the messes I make in the kitchen.”

He chuckled. “I see how you are. Lure us in with tasty treats then beat a hasty retreat when the real work comes.”

“You know it,” I said.

My smile returned. “Thanks for dropping the topic.”

Laughter lightened Ryder’s eyes and made some faint crinkles at the corner. 

“I will, once you stop bringing it up.” 

I placed the chicken in the skillet where it sizzled merrily. 

“Mmm,” I said, meeting his gaze across the pan. “Doesn’t that smell good.”

This time, he threw his head back and laughed. 

I continued to blend my sauce, grinning.

“You have a pretty smile,” Ryder said.

I rolled my eyes. “That sounds like a pickup line. Like one someone would throw out in a bar.”

He shook his head. “I was being sincere, but I work with a guy who drops those corny lines on all the women he meets.”

“Oh? Let’s hear one,” I said.

He pondered me for a minute. “You’re not a pickup-line woman, Aidy. You’re too self-possessed, too confident to fall for those.”

“Now I want to hear them even more,” I said, grinning. 

He cleared his throat. “I know a guy who says the best women have apple bottoms.”

“Apple…what? Who has an apple bottom?”

He widened his eyes. “You, of course.”

I giggled. “That’s terrible.” And super cute. He was cute. And he cuddled babies. 

I threw the pasta in with the veggies, coating it, then added the chicken, needing something to do so I stopped staring at his chest and imagining my baby cuddled there. 

“We’re ready,” I said. I heaped a plate of pasta, chicken, and veggies, and Ryder sniffed, making appreciative sounds as he headed toward the French farmhouse table I’d picked up at a flea market in Newport. At first, I’d worried it was too big for the space since it seated eight, but with the clean white lines of the kitchen, and my decision to use one couch and two armchairs around the low coffee table, I’d been able to use the large table as an anchor. It gleamed now that I’d sanded and waxed it. 

I followed after him, a warm glow of happiness settling over me. Ryder waited to sit until I had.

“Dig in,” I said, grabbing my fork. He bit into one of the tender pieces of asparagus, his eyes widening. 

“What is this?” Ryder asked as soon as he swallowed. 

I shrugged. “A lighter version of an Alfredo sauce.” I frowned. “Can it be Alfredo without cheese in it?”

“Dunno. Still, it’s great.”

I smiled. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” I paused. “I’m glad you chose to stay.”

My cheeks bloomed with color. Ryder cleared his throat, gaze dropping back to his plate. What was it about his slight discomfiture that made me want to sit in his lap and wrap my arms around him? And if I did so, would I be comforting him or would he be comforting me?

I took another bite, pondering the question to which I had no answer. Just that he affected me, and I…I liked it. 

“So…ah…how long have you been working at the family firm?” He met my gaze, and I was struck again by the beauty of his eyes. The silvery-green popped against his tanned skin. 

At my questioning look, he said, “Your brothers said you all worked there.”

I nodded as I picked up my napkin. I dabbed at my mouth and set the square of cotton back in my lap. 

“You’re the only person I know who uses cloth napkins,” Ryder said. 

His gaze swept over my dining and living area. 

“And this place is definitely a cohesively designed space. What would you call it?”

I darted him a glance. “My professors would say something like, ‘a seemingly effortless and comfortable use of texture and furniture to create sophisticated feminine decor’.” I wrinkled my nose. “Sounds stuffy and pretentious.”

He settled back in his chair, his palms resting on his taut abdomen. While all the ladder back chairs were distressed, his was red. Mine was turquoise. I also had a yellow, green, blue, and purple one. Nico didn’t like them, but I did. Plus, people could pick a color that suited their mood. Of course Ryder chose red—the bold color of power…or passion. Not that he’d been overly passionate. He’d been a gentleman. And I wasn’t interested in passion or love. We’d just discussed my fiancé dumping my ass for hotter pastures…with willing wildlife. I sighed at my shitty metaphor, which seemed an extension of my shitty life choices. 

I straightened my spine. That was the old Aidy’s thinking. I was present, focused, organized, and ready to kick ass—at my job, at parenting. At life. 

And this new Aidy was glad for a nice evening with a good looking guy. Of course, New Aidy wasn’t interested in a relationship because men failed her. No, New Aidy understood her brothers put Ryder up to tonight, and she’d make sure Ryder told Nico and Knox she was sparkly and capable. New Aidy might even test drive Ryder…as a possible pediatrician.

There was nothing else—would be nothing else—between them. New Aidy didn’t have an interest in jumping back into dating until she was positive she’d left her poor romantic choices far, far behind.

And she wasn’t sure just yet. So, she’d follow her plan—complete her thesis, prepare for her daughter’s arrival. 

“This is way better than my place with its overstuffed leather sofas and a scarred coffee table I bummed off my aunt,” Ryder said, bringing me back into the present. “I didn’t bother with a dining table because I am rarely home for dinner.”

He met my gaze, and I studied his, fascinated by the alternating flecks of green and gray that swirled around his pupils. Remember the plan, Aidy. Be charming. Show your kickass adulting but do not get caught up in possible romance—you’re not interested.

“I’m an architect who specializes in eco-friendly interiors. This…” I waved my hand, “represents my taste but also my philosophy.”

A slight confusion drifted over his face, but he nodded. “So, how long have you been back?”

“I moved back into Nico’s place in September—the week after Labor Day.”

“And Knox said something about a thesis?”

My brothers sure were chatty about my life with others. We’d need to discuss the idea of privacy. 

“That’s the last of my coursework for my master’s degree,” I said.

He glanced back at my midsection as if trying to calculate how far along I was. I dropped my hands over my belly in reflex. He raised his gaze to mine. Frustration seemed to mar his brow before he smoothed it out. 

“I’m eighteen weeks pregnant.”

His eyes widened, the green flaring brighter. “And you’re working full-time and planning to complete a thesis before the baby comes?”

“That way I’m fully certified as the firm’s resident interior architect.”

“I thought your degree was in design,” he said. 

I shook my head. “No, still architecture but I prefer to work in the interior whereas Nico, especially, likes to create the lines of the exterior. But, to me, a home is about comfort and that comes from what you put in it.”

“I see.” 

I smirked. “I bet it’s like me trying to understand medical jargon.” 

His face eased and he smiled. “Probably.”

No one really understood my passion for interior spaces, but at least Nico and Knox respected my interest and talent, especially because it dovetailed well into their skill sets. “Clean living—healthy living—starts with a healthy home,” I said. 

Energy surged through me. I loved talking about this. “My father designed buildings and houses, but my mother instilled the importance of natural fibers and reusing or recycling materials. Remember our kitchen?”

He squinted, but then nodded. “I always thought those open shelves with your mom’s dishes were really cool. So easy to grab a plate or a glass.”

“Exactly,” I said. My lips turned up as I remembered the comfort of her kitchen. “She asked my dad to reuse her old cabinets when they redid the space. But the cabinet doors weren’t in great shape. Instead of tossing them into a landfill, she sanded them all down and then smoothed on an eco-friendly wood treatment. The rest of the house followed, over time. We had organic mattresses and bamboo sheets before they were really a known thing.”

I sucked my lower lip into my mouth. “Sorry. I can rev up and get going on this topic.”

He touched the edge of his glass, sliding his finger through the condensation. “You’re passionate. That makes you spectacular at what you do.”

He met my gaze, his face earnest. “I’m glad you found your passion.”

Oh, no. No. New Aidy wasn’t interested in men. Not even handsome ones who showed genuine interest in her. That meant tonight was to show Ryder, and by extension, her brothers that she was a capable professional. Time to refocus this conversation.

I chewed a bite.

“So, Mr. Pediatrician, you really would be able to help me with my daughter’s medical needs?”

“You’re having a girl?” he asked. 

I smiled, and this one felt like it might split my face. “She’s right on track. Dr. Yao says everything looks great.”

“I know Dr. Yao. She refers many of her patients to us. We both have admitting privileges,” he said. 

“So, I should add you to my list of potential doctors to interview?” I asked. I meant it as a joke, but Ryder’s gaze slid to my belly and back up to my face. The faint frown added to his conflicted look. 

“I’d be honored to help out a Wright.”

Ah. The family connection. Maybe he was surprised I was the first of my siblings to have a child. He’d been too polite to say so, but I’d be a mom at twenty-five. That was young. New Aidy decided not to let Ryder’s possible opinions worry her. After all, New Aidy’s life choices were no one’s business but her own.

“You’re smart to interview multiple doctors. You want to be sure you trust that person with her well-being.”

And I realized I was beginning to. During the time we’d spent together tonight, I’d had a meaningful conversation with Ryder, felt like we’d connected. He was a bit stiff, a little hard to get to know, but he obviously cared about the well-being of my child, and he seemed genuinely interested in my career, in me, as a person. That felt…freeing.

That I could trust a man who wasn’t my brother was a huge step forward in healing my heart—and my confidence in myself. My baby deserved a tight-knit family who supported her. Maybe this move home, meeting Ryder, was supposed to happen. Maybe he was the right doctor for her—and a confidant for me. That was something I hadn’t realized I’d needed so much, but this dinner reminded me that closeness wasn’t to be feared. 

I’d made a friend in Ryder, and I could develop other relationships with people who would care about both my baby and me. I deserved that. 

I bit back a smile as I rose, picking up my plate. 

Maybe I was finally on the right track. 

Magnetic Medic is Book 1 in a series inspired by Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward’s British Bedmate. It is published as part of the Cocky Hero Club world, a series of original works, written by various authors, and inspired by Keeland and Ward’s New York Times bestselling series.

To find out more about all the Cocky Hero Club World books and authors, visit: www.cockyheroclub.com.

A sexy, new brother’s best friend romance from USA Today bestselling author Alexa Padgett.

He’s my brother’s childhood friend. I’m pregnant with another man’s baby. What a time to fall in love… 

Coming home seemed like a good idea at the time. My ex-fiancé split, I was almost done with my master’s degree, and I was already working at the family architecture firm. When I move in next door to pediatrician Ryder Mackay, I’m not expecting the connection—or the passion in his eyes that I feel deep in my soul. He’s the best doctor for my baby, but he’s not the guy I need. 

Still, the way Ryder looks snuggling my puppy—and my infant daughter—to his rock-hard chest makes me wish this sexy, smart, compassionate man was mine. 

Maybe, it’s pregnancy hormones. Or…maybe this magnetic pull is forever.

Ryder

The next evening, I raised my hand and knocked, creating a satisfying sharp rap-rap-rap on Aidy Wright’s door. My hair was still damp from my shower at the gym, and I rotated my left shoulder, hoping the ache in my rotator cuff disappeared soon. The doctor’s hockey team was scheduled to play a game against the Boys and Girls Club teens that weekend, and I wanted to play goalie. This was my first season with the Providence crew, but I’d enjoyed working with the kids—and playing hockey—since I started medical school. The league kept me in shape and helped me foster relationships with at-risk youth.

I waited, possibly twice as long as I would have for most people to answer the door, because she was pregnant. Aidy Wright, pregnant. I’d spent hours last night trying to wrap my head around that reality. 

Well, that and the fact that she glowed with an internal radiance that had drawn me to her even as a kid. Aidy still seemed honest to a fault and was easy to fluster. And beautiful. 

Not that I had any right noticing her attractiveness. 

“Aidy?” I called. 

I leaned more shoulder against the door frame.

Even as I’d talked to Knox last night, I’d found myself searching her face for the girl I’d once known, the sheltered younger sister of my best friend. I could’ve sworn something should have changed during the ensuing twenty years. Something huge. Well, in addition to being pregnant and seemingly single.

I’d understand if it had. I’d changed profoundly in that time, too. There were parts of my life I wouldn’t admit to her, or her brothers…or even myself some days.

What surprised me was how familiar she appeared. The mischievous gleam in her bottle-green eyes and the strawberry blonde hair, the dusting of freckles over her nose—all those features reminded me of the young Aidy I remembered so fondly. Her chin was sharper, though, and her cheeks more defined. Her mouth seemed to have a stubbornness to it I didn’t recall. 

She’d been sassy and funny last night, and I’d looked forward to chatting with her again. 

She was easy to talk to, her eyes still gleaming with the mischief I remembered from all those years before. 

I pushed off the door frame and ambled toward my apartment.

The elevator pinged. I turned to see her exiting the car, excitement pooling in my belly. She juggled a couple sacks of groceries and her purse and briefcase. 

I strode forward and relieved her of one of the bags. 

“Thanks. Those were getting heavy.”

I trailed a little behind her, enjoying the way her black skirt molded to her rounded ass. What was it my buddy and fellow physician Simon called this type of derriere? An apple bottom. I’d have to tell my work colleague and friend I’d found a lovely specimen. 

He’d tell me none were as good as his fiancée’s. 

I’d have to disagree with him.

Aidy stopped, and I nearly stumbled. Maybe I shouldn’t focus so hard on her ass. 

“Your hair is the exact same color,” I said, trying to cover up my awkwardness.

She glanced back over her shoulder and smiled. “Crazy, huh? I wanted it to darken to auburn, but no such luck.”

“Why’s that?” I asked. Still trying to recover my equilibrium. I was thirty years old, not fifteen, but something about Aidy made me feel as awkward and tongue-tied as I’d been during high school. 

She shrugged as she pushed open her door. “Why do we want anything? Probably because we don’t have it.”

She dropped her keys into a bowl set on a table right beside the door and lowered her purse and briefcase onto the bench next to the table. I would never have guessed she moved in yesterday.

The little girl I remembered had been brash and impulsive. Messes careened in her wake. This woman might have the same hair and same big green eyes, but she’d matured…my gaze trailed across her back in a leisurely swipe. Yep. She was definitely all woman now. 

She continued across her living room to the kitchen and set the bag on the counter. She reached back and took the sack from my arms, settling it next to the first. I mulled over her statement as she pulled out items. 

“Want a drink?” she asked. 

I frowned. “You think it’s smart to invite a man you don’t know into your place?”

She quirked an eyebrow. “My brother says you’re a good guy.”

I quashed the flicker of joy in my chest at those words. “Your brother doesn’t know me anymore.”

She stopped unpacking and tilted her head, studying me. “You’re saying you’re not a good man?” Her eyes sparkled. “Are you going to hurt me in some way, Ryder?”

I shook my head. “I’d never hurt you.” The mere thought caused my stomach to curdle. 

She smoothed back a stray tendril into her bun-thing on the back of her neck. “Then, I think it’s safe to invite you to have a drink.”

“Sure. Water would be great.”

“Bubbly or still?”

“What is this—a restaurant?” I teased.

“Sparkling water seems to settle my stomach better than ginger or lemons. But I know it’s not for everyone.”

“I like sparkling water.”

She turned around and grabbed a glass, then pulled a couple of cans from the fridge. I popped the top and let the water fizz into the glass while Aidy continued to unpack her groceries. She’d managed to cram a lot in those two sacks. 

“You can tell Knox you did your check-in,” she said.

“What?”

I spilled some water as I jerked the can. She grabbed a dishtowel and tossed it to me and I wiped up the mess. Nice, Ryder. Really smooth.

“Isn’t that why you’re here? To report back to Knox that I came straight home.”

“I…no…I’m not going to tattle to your brother about your life, Aidy.” 

When she remained skeptical, I shoved my hands into my pockets and rocked back on my heels, unsure how to proceed. If I were being honest, I enjoyed Aidy’s company more than the idea of catching up on my patient notes or watching TV alone. I liked her soft push-back and her direct gaze. She reminded me some of Knox but nicer—and definitely better looking. She was…comforting. She reminded me of home. Of my mother. And I wanted more of Aidy, of that feeling.

“I’ll get out of your way.”

She sighed, her shoulders tugging forward. “That was rude of me—I’m still a bit upset with Nico for a comment he made yesterday. Stay, finish your drink. Tell me about Mondays at your clinic.”

“If you’re sure—”

“I am.”

“Right. Well, Mondays are busy. We get a rush of sick kids first thing—because parents worried over the weekend.”

“Makes sense. I hear you cuddle babies in your free time.” She winked.

I chuckled. “I like kids. Always have.” I shrugged. I’d liked playing with Aidy when she was little. I’d told my mom I considered it good practice for Molly.

My good mood dimmed as it always did when I thought of my baby sister.

“Hey, don’t look so glum. I won’t beg you to babysit. I just thought we could…hang out for a bit. I’m enjoying your company more than I expected, especially for Knox’s spy.” 

I laughed. “Sorry. I was just thinking about something.”

She leaned in, her eyes wide. “A deep, dark secret?” she whispered. 

I smiled. “You look just like you did when I taught you how to catch a crab.” I picked up my drink, took a big swallow. 

She raised an eyebrow. “You’re ignoring my deep dark secret comment, so that means you must have one. Is it deep or is it dark?”

More than one, and I definitely didn’t want to share. “Don’t we all have secrets?”

I swallowed. I shouldn’t. I didn’t want her asking more about what happened after I moved—was forced from my home and everything I knew and cared about. 

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” she asked, tying on an apron. It was blue with white pinstripes and had pockets.

“No, I don’t want to impose.”

She popped the top on her drink and took a long swig from the can. I liked how unpretentious she was. How comfortable she looked in her work clothes with her hair pinned up and an apron covering her front. That brought my gaze down to her midsection. Her brothers were quick to spill her secrets. 

Men could be such assholes.

“So, you live here alone?” I asked. 

She bent down and pulled out a large enameled skillet. I remembered the set from her parents’ kitchen. 

“You can just ask me, you know,” she said. She turned on the gas burner and drizzled some oil in the pan. She turned away and brought out a large stainless-steel pot that she began to fill with water.

“Ask you what?” I hedged. 

She rolled her eyes as she carried the pot to the stove, turning on that burner. “Why I’m single and pregnant.”

“Well, I wasn’t sure you were.”

“He left,” she said, her lips turning down and her eyes dimming. She coated her chicken breasts in some seasoning. 

“What do you mean, left?” 

“The day I told him about the baby. He left me.” She shrugged, but I saw her touch the ring finger on her left hand. I’d noted yesterday she wasn’t wearing a ring—right after I realized she was pregnant. 

Sure, I was an asshole for looking. Her words led me to worry that the guy she’d been with hurt her more than she’d let on. I’d planned to report back to Knox—he’d asked me to check in on Aidy, and my loyalty was to him, no matter how attractive I found her—probably because I found her desirable. That was wrong on so many levels as was my desire to spend more time with her. 

I didn’t push her to share more, though my curiosity ate at me. Her betrayal was more recent than mine, but those kinds of wounds could take decades to heal. 

And with the single swipe of her thumb over her bare finger, protectiveness reared up. I wanted to hug her and make sure she knew she didn’t deserve that level of hurt. 

“You know what? That smells great. I’d love to stay.”

Magnetic Medic is Book 1 in a series inspired by Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward’s British Bedmate. It is published as part of the Cocky Hero Club world, a series of original works, written by various authors, and inspired by Keeland and Ward’s New York Times bestselling series.

To find out more about all the Cocky Hero Club World books and authors, visit: www.cockyheroclub.com.

A sexy, new brother’s best friend romance from USA Today bestselling author Alexa Padgett.

He’s my brother’s childhood friend. I’m pregnant with another man’s baby. What a time to fall in love… 

Coming home seemed like a good idea at the time. My ex-fiancé split, I was almost done with my master’s degree, and I was already working at the family architecture firm. When I move in next door to pediatrician Ryder Mackay, I’m not expecting the connection—or the passion in his eyes that I feel deep in my soul. He’s the best doctor for my baby, but he’s not the guy I need. 

Still, the way Ryder looks snuggling my puppy—and my infant daughter—to his rock-hard chest makes me wish this sexy, smart, compassionate man was mine. 

Maybe, it’s pregnancy hormones. Or…maybe this magnetic pull is forever.

Aidy

I stood in my new condo, my first home and my present to myself this holiday season. Placing my hands on my ever-expanding bump, I took in the sparkling white appliances and mellow oak floors that created a seamless transition from dining, living, and kitchen areas.

Satisfaction bubbled up as I took in my accomplishments…until that niggling pang of loss slammed into me. Jeff should be here. Rather, I should still be in Houston, as we’d planned. But my plans no longer included Jeff or Houston. 

I focused on my home—my own home. I’d waited a couple of months to buy because this specific condo had two bedrooms and it was the last to be completed, so no more workers would be traipsing through the building—a security consideration necessary for a young, single woman. 

Nico, my oldest brother, set down a box and glanced around the room. “You’re hustling on emptying those boxes,” he said. 

“I have to,” I replied. “You carry them up so fast.”

“I’m up five boxes on you, Nico,” Knox, my middle brother, taunted. “You’re getting soft, old man.” 

I smiled at Nico’s scowl as he slid out of my door. Those two had always been competitive. I hoisted the box onto the kitchen counter, ignoring Knox’s protests, and began unpacking it. 

“Don’t you have more to bring in?” I asked. “I’m almost done in here, so I’m unpacking faster than you’re hauling, old man.” I winked at Knox’s frown. Those two were so easy to rile up. My brothers were tall and broad, but Nico’s hair was the color of an acorn instead of Knox’s honey-blond. They both had piercing eyes, though in different shades of gray, and long lashes from our mother. 

Nico ran in with two boxes, which he set down, then dashed back outside. I laughed even as I cut through the tape and started pulling out my bakeware. 

Fine. I was just as competitive as my brothers. 

Knox set another box on the floor near the dishwasher, which I began to load with the bread pans I’d pulled out from the box Nico had brought up.

I might be back in the frozen tundra of Providence the week after Christmas, and I might be pregnant and alone, but I would finish my master’s degree, and I would definitely make something more of myself than the single mother cliche Jeff seemed to think I’d become. 

I was more than he gave me credit for, and I was so not going to be a cliché. I might have moved back to my home town but I’d jumped back into my research on eco-friendly interior architectural elements last month and had stacks of research for my thesis. Once my brothers left, I’d pull it out and start writing. 

“We’ll get the last of your stuff on this trip,” Nico said.

Nico had always been my champion, and since my parents died, my father figure. Seven years my senior, he’d been forced to grow up too soon and continued to act like a stuffy middle-aged man instead of a cool business owner of thirty-one. Of course, since he’d had to slide into the parent role, he was not the first person I’d wanted to tell that I’d just found out I was pregnant and that Jeff left me—all in the same day. And he wasn’t, but none of my friends in Houston had any experience with my current situation. In fact, they’d all been more freaked out than I was. 

I’d broken down the next day and called Nico, hoping he’d be the brother I needed—not the one I’d left behind with a huge sigh of relief when I drove to Houston to attend Rice University. Nico had been silent for a couple of breaths before he asked me what I wanted to do.

I’d opened my mouth, but no words came out. 

“Come home,” he’d said. “You can work for Wright and Associates.”

“W-what?”

“Come home, and you’ll work with us. Just like I’d always planned. Like Dad wanted. We need another full-time architect, especially with your eye for the interior. Eco-design is a growing field. You’re an asset, Aidy. Plus, you’re technically a partner already.”

Technically. Because our dad left the firm to all of us, equally. 

Nico had rattled off a sum that was substantially higher than my current salary, one that would let me buy my own place and pay for childcare.

“And you can stay with me and I’ll help you find a place to live.”

“You’re sure?”

The silence was long, but eventually, he said, “Yes.”

So, I packed up my bags and drove out of Houston’s muggy heat and headed back north—back to the brother I’d been more than glad to leave six years ago. 

My brothers dropped the last of my boxes inside my new digs. 

“You win,” I said with a sigh. “I couldn’t get all the boxes in here unpacked as fast as you could carry them.”

Knox gave me a side hug. “Well, you were destined to lose since we had to bring them in for you to unpack.”

I smiled. Knox might be the most competitive, but he also had a big, soft heart, and I loved him for that.

“I think you’ll like it here, and you’re growing your net worth,” Nico said. He settled on my sofa and threw his arm across the back, looking around with satisfaction. “You were smart to take advantage of the opportunity.”

Yep. Old man banker talk right there. Nico needed a life. 

My smile widened as I pulled muffin tins from the box. I’d dealt with all the paperwork from the bank and mortgage company myself. I’m sure Nico would have helped, but I needed to prove I could handle my finances. And I did it. At twenty-four, I owned my own place and was a partner in a well-known architectural firm.

Granted, buying a condo was beneficial for all of us. I’d lived in Nico’s guest room for the past few months, which threw our typical ignore-each-other coping mechanisms into disarray. I might have asked Knox instead, but he’d been a grumbly mess since the Melinda Incident, and I decided to take my chances with Nico.

My oldest brother put up with my books scattered around his pristine bungalow, and he’d been correct that I should wait for a space that I loved, even as he frowned at my personal items littering his living room. Once again, I smiled at my new living space—that pride of homeownership bubbling up through my tummy. 

The sensation spread through my midsection again. Not happiness. My daughter. I’d found out last week at my checkup that I was having a girl. 

I gasped, tears springing to my eyes. Both my brothers jumped off the couch, faces tight in concern. 

“It’s fine,” I murmured, blinking back the wetness as I smiled. I touched my tummy. “She’s moving. I hadn’t really felt it before.”

“I hope she takes after her Uncle Knox and loves to ice skate,” Knox said.

“If you take her to the rink, she probably will,” I said.

“Like Dad did with me. I’m going to turn her into the hockey-lover you never were,” Knox said.

He grinned wider. He moved to the fridge and pulled out a beer I’d stored in there when I’d arrived this morning, raising another to Nico, who nodded.

I closed the overflowing dishwasher and set it to start, thankful most of my dishes: glasses, mugs, and silverware would soon be clean and stored in the appropriate cabinets and drawers.

Knox tugged at a chunk of my hair that had escaped my ponytail, his easy-going smile masking the pain that always bubbled up when we discussed our parents. 

“You found a cool place.”

“I like it. I’m glad it was within my budget.”

“We’ll have to pay you more once you finish up that thesis.” Knox glanced down at my belly, his brows tight in the start of a scowl. 

“If I finish my thesis,” I said. Because I hadn’t managed to do so last semester, as I’d hoped. Nico freaked out when I told him I wanted to take a leave of absence, flat-out refusing to let me work at the family firm—and get the internship credits I needed to complete my degree—if I didn’t promise I’d finish my thesis course. 

He’d been right to push me, but that last email from my advisor still sent shame coursing through me. I refused to meet Knox’s eyes because I didn’t want him to know my advisor called me out on my lackluster performance since September. His comments were deserved since I’d spent my first few weeks barely able to file documents without sniffling. 

But this was the new Aidy. I was strong, capable. No longer a weepy disaster who let a man’s rejection keep me from achieving my goals. And I planned to prove I could ace my thesis, starting tonight. As soon as my brothers left.

“I ordered pizza as a thank you,” I said. “But then I’m kicking you out. I want to work on my thesis.”

“I could eat,” Knox said, making us all laugh.

“You can always eat, Mr. Former Cornell Hockey Star,” I said.

When the knock on my door came, I elbowed both my brothers back, refusing to let them pay for the pizza. I opened the door with a triumphant laugh. 

The pizza delivery kid was flustered by my belly. “Can you carry these?” he asked. 

He held the four boxes of pizza away from me. 

“I’m pregnant not an invalid,” I said, with a smile. I mean, he was a teenager, barely old enough to drive, and I guessed I should be glad he was looking out for me. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t give him some gentle advisement on independent women. 

“And last time I checked, pizza wasn’t as heavy as my purse or my briefcase that I manage to carry all by myself each day.”

“Right,” the kid stuttered, his cheeks flushing. 

I kept my smile in place to take the sting out of my words. I heard a snort as I grabbed the boxes from the delivery guy and handed him the cash. He ambled off, giving me a clearer view of a man stopped at the door across the hall. 

The guy turned to smirk at me. His nose and chin reminded me of the Spanish-Moroccan model, Abdel Abdelkader, the Men’s Health model who’d created a juicing empire. I had bookmarked that issue. For the article on juicing, of course. 

After I managed to move past that chiseled jaw, his eyes snagged my attention. They weren’t gray and they weren’t green, but a light, interesting combination of the two—like the underbelly of a new sage leaf. The color popped all the more against his tanned skin. 

He smiled, those firm pink lips parting enough for me to catch the white teeth behind the fuller, lower, totally bitable one, and my gaze dropped to the dimple. Only one. On the left side, leaving a groove in his cheek. The faintest hint of dark scruff shadowed his mouth and chin, letting me know he’d shaved earlier but that he could grow that delicious scruff if he went away with a woman for the weekend. 

“Aidy?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said, meeting Mr. Tall, Dark, and Oh-so-handsome’s gaze. “Who are you…I know you, I think.” I blinked again. Those eyes. He looked familiar, and his smile seemed intimate, like I shouldknow him, but I couldn’t place him. 

He tilted his head. “You do. I’m Ryder Mackay. I lived down the street from you…” he trailed off, his face freezing in a partial grimace. He cleared his throat. “That was a long time ago. I moved when you were in, like, kindergarten, maybe? You look the same.” He smiled.

My breath caught in my throat. He was better looking than Abdel. Maybe a bit taller, definitely more chiseled…at least the parts I could see. 

I wanted to tuck a thick strand of hair behind my ear but I was holding the pizza boxes. “Um. Thanks, I guess.”

“Yeah, it was the hair that caught my attention,” he said with a laugh. 

I was a true strawberry blonde—emphasis on the strawberry. People tended to do double-takes when they saw me for the first time. For the most part, I enjoyed the attention. Nico complained I was both the moth and the flame. 

“How are you?” Ryder asked. His gaze dropped to my tight T-shirt—tight because I hadn’t bothered to buy maternity clothes. My boobs looked good in it, but it also showed off my bump, which was where Ryder’s gaze slid. For some reason, I didn’t like the brown-haired god staring at my obvious baby belly—and learning about my failed relationship. 

But I didn’t know him, so why should I care? Still, as I leaned against the doorframe, I settled the pizzas in front of my belly, blocking his view.

“I’m okay. So, you knew Nico or Knox?” 

“Knox and I played in the tree fort your dad built. Or on the beach. Nico was too cool to hang out with Knox and me.”

“Oh! You’re the boy who moved to Boston,” I said, remembering some long-ago conversations about Knox’s bestie who’d gone to live with his aunt. 

“And you’re the little girl who loved to play with crabs,” he said with a chuckle.

I wrinkled my nose. “My finest moments,” I said, my tone dry. 

His smile widened. “I liked catching them with you. In fact, I was the one who taught you because Knox was always afraid they’d bite him.”

We shared a smile. I felt a pang in my chest.

“I wish I could remember that,” I said. 

“Who are you talking to?” Nico opened the door wider. 

“I was trying to invite—”

Nico followed my gaze and his eyes widened. “Ryder? Is that you?” 

“Dude!” Knox called, his voice barreling into my ear. “Come in here. We need to catch up.”

Nico took the boxes from me as Knox enveloped Ryder in a bear hug. I hovered in my doorway, unsure whether to follow or back up and give the guys time to reconnect.

“It’s damn good to see you. It’s been…”

Ryder’s gaze touched on mine before he met my brother’s. “Close to twenty years.”

“Yeah. Man. Time flies. What have you been up to? I think I heard from someone in the old neighborhood that you went to medical school.”

Ryder nodded. “I just finished my residency and took a position at a clinic nearby.”

“Come inside Aidy’s new place. You can tell us about your job and everything.”

I wanted to throw up my hands in frustration. Sure, I planned to feed my brothers but then they were supposed to leave immediately after so I could get on with my thesis—not find a long lost friend and stay for hours catching up.

“What’s your specialty?” Knox asked. 

“Pediatrics,” Ryder said.

“You’re a pediatrician?” Nico asked. He raised his brows, his gaze boring into me. Yes, yes, I heard that this old chum was a baby doctor. I glanced at Ryder’s hand, noting he wasn’t wearing a ring. 

Hot baby doc was single. I bet that made for lots of happy mommies.

“Excellent!” Knox said. “You hear that, Aidy? Ryder’ll take care of your baby.”

I smiled a little in their direction but didn’t bother to reply. Ryder’s eyes had widened, and he seemed a bit overwhelmed that Knox was planning out my life. 

Welcome to the world of baby sister with two overprotective brothers, Ryder. The path is always bumpy.

“Hey,” Knox said, noticing the consternation that had to be stamped on my face. I had a plan—feed them and get them out so I could realize the new Aidy’s dream of a completed master’s degree.

“Do you need to sit down?” Knox asked.

I shook my head. “I’m fine. Just need to pee.”

Knox wrinkled his nose and disappeared into my kitchen. Oh, god. I said that in front of Ryder. My gaze darted to his and his laughing eyes met mine. 

Ryder leaned in closer as Knox made a disgusted sound. “I don’t think you three have changed much in twenty years.”

“I don’t think we have either,” I whispered back. “But, still, I shouldn’t have said that in front of you.” My cheeks flamed. 

He chuckled. “I’m a doctor, Aidy, one who deals with babies. Pee is pretty much a constant in my life.” 

Knox called out, asking if Ryder wanted a beer. He raised his eyebrows to me, and I appreciated his silent question even as it annoyed me. Ryder seemed nice enough, and he was good looking, but I’d bought this place because I wanted to live alone. 

I needed to prove that I could. And I would, just as I’d complete my thesis and get my degree.

*

When I returned to the living area, my brothers were already snarfing down food—without plates or napkins. I cringed at my brothers’ boorishness and beelined to the kitchen for paper towels I’d already slid onto the under cabinet rod I’d attached earlier. 

See? New Aidy was organized. Adult. Responsible.

All the words Nico would have never used to describe me even a couple of years ago.

“Where’s your friend?” I asked. Ryder. Not like I’d forget his name. He was the most attractive guy I’d met in ages. 

Nico chewed his bite before he answered. He even grabbed a napkin and wiped his fingers and lips.

“He had to go up to the hospital. Apparently, he’s set up a baby-cuddler program for the ICU.”

Ryder, the hot guy with the fabulous eyes, cuddled babies. Pretty much all my insides melted at the mental image. 

“I got his card for you. And he’s going to stop by tomorrow to make sure you’re all set,” Knox said.

“He doesn’t need to do that,” I murmured. 

“He said he wanted to,” Knox said, ripping me from my fantasy of Ryder, shirtless, a cherubic-faced girl resting against his powerful chest. At least, I assumed he was all sculpted muscle from my fleeting glance at his firm butt. And he snuggled babies. 

Knox opened the box with the pesto chicken pizza that I loved and slid two slices onto a paper towel. 

“Thanks,” I said. 

“Eat,” he replied, tipping his head toward my plate and casting me a stern glare. “And I’m glad Ryder lives across the hall. Now I won’t worry as much about you living alone. I always liked him.”

I shot him a look. “You last saw him when he was, what? Nine?”

“Thirteen,” Knox said. “His aunt and uncle brought him back one summer after he moved to Boston.”

“He was a nice kid,” Nico said. “Quiet. Didn’t always agree with the crazy shit you wanted to get up to.” 

“Probably smart,” Knox said.

I took a bite of my pizza, trying to quell the concern I felt at the idea of living across the hall from one of my brother’s old friends—a spy across the hall. 

“Did you know he lived here?” I asked Nico.

He shook his head, chewing his bite. Once he’d washed it down with most of the can of bubbly water he must have pulled out of my fridge, he said, “Can’t say I’m sorry to know someone will be keeping an eye on you.”

“What do you think I’m going to get up to?” I snapped. “I’m at the office for ten hours each day, and then I work on my thesis.”

Nico settled his drink on the table with quiet care. “Well, then I guess us keeping you busy is a good thing.” He dropped his gaze to my belly. 

I stood up from my chair on shaking legs, my jaw tensed as anger coursed through me. “Oh, no, you don’t. You don’t get to make me feel bad about my choices in my own home. Time for you to go.” I pointed to the door. 

“What the hell?” Nico asked, his face scrunching in surprise. 

I shook my head. “I get you’re unhappy with me, and I know our relationship has been rocky for years, but there is no way—no way—you can judge me like that in my home.” I shoved two of the pizza boxes in Nico’s chest and marched over to the door. I stood there with it open, fuming. “That makes me feel…” My lip quivered. I swallowed. “You really hurt my feelings.”

“Aidy…”

“Out,” I snapped. I looked over at Knox. “Thank you for helping me move. You can take the rest. I shouldn’t eat it anyway. There’s a lot of sodium in pizza, which isn’t great for my baby.”

Knox gathered the boxes, his eyes dripping with an apology. He pressed a kiss to my cheek and nudged Nico out of my place. I locked the door with a flourish and sagged against the wall.

“Was that necessary?” Knox asked, his voice raised enough for me to hear through my door. 

I couldn’t hear Nico’s response, but Knox’s voice carried down the hall. “No wonder Aidy went to Rice instead of Rhode Island School of Design,” Knox said. “You can be such a judgmental dick.”

“I wasn’t trying to be,” Nico muttered. 

“That’s the problem. With Aidy, you just are, and it clearly upsets her,” Knox said, surprising me as he came to my defense again. 

I leaned my head against my locked front door and blinked back the tears Nico’s thoughtless comment produced. I inhaled and stood up straight.My brothers were gone, and I could now work on my thesis, as I’d wanted. Just not how I’d wanted to accomplish my goal.

All secrets come with a price in this page-turning romantic suspense by USA Today Bestselling Author, Alexa Padgett.

Someone will stop at nothing to silence her…

Ethical hacker Tawny Reed chose the FBI over a possible criminal record….and gave up any semblance of a life to meet her handler’s stringent demands. But getting stabbed in the line of duty wasn’t part of the plan: she deals in code and algorithms, not the blood and violence that cost her father his life.

Biology professor Colt Rippey rushes to save an injured woman on the side of the road. That white-knight act tumbles him into Tawny’s world of power built on lies–and people’s lives. When Tawny reveals she has nowhere to go, Colt suggests they hide in his cabin deep on the Olympic Peninsula. There, he hopes to save Tawny and even give his life some meaning.

Danger stalks Tawny and Colt, making it difficult to know who they can trust. The sanctuary Tawny finds in Colt’s arms and bed is temporary. Isolated in a remote cabin, hunted by figures who want to silence her, Tawny must outpace and outmaneuver the men who destroyed her life years before. The hunt is on…will Tawny’s timebomb explode while Colt risks his life and future to keep Tawny safe?

**Disclaimer: The following material is copyrighted and subject to change.**

Colt

Sunday

“Kara’s engaged? That can’t be right,” I said. “She told me last night that her live-in boyfriend dumped her.”

“That’s what her social media says—engaged. Wait. Wow, that was quick. Married.”

“What the actual… You know what? I don’t care.”

Except her words, the desperate look in her eye, rankled. Why would she come to me last night?

To make her boyfriend, Hugh or Harry or whatever it is, jealous. Dammit. She’d used me again. Apparently, to get engaged. 

That hurt. Again. Even more evidence I needed to get off this Kara-train and focus my life. 

Instead of waiting for opportunities to come to me, I needed to search them out. I’d considered heading out to my family’s cabin last night. There wouldn’t be a better time than now. 

I pulled out a suitcase and slammed it on the bed. Some of the residual anger and shame from my encounter with Kara seeped into my motions as I threw clothes in willy-nilly, much against my normal fastidious manner. Underwear, socks, sweatpants, jeans, T-shirts, and a couple of sweatshirts. Oh, and a coat. The water by the cabin always made the temperature feel cooler. I grabbed my favorite down jacket, a beanie, and some gloves and shoved them in the top of the bag along with a pair of sneakers and my hiking boots.

There. I could spend a week or more out at the cabin and think through my goals and where I wanted my life to go.

First order of business: time to start living my life. I’d chill for a few days while I came up with my perfect-woman list. 

I hauled the bag down to my car. 

***

I glared at the setting sun about an hour later, which had the audacity to settle right into my still-hungover-as-hell eyeballs. 

“Fuck,” I moaned. “Stupid bright star. My head is never going to be the same.”

It had been hours since I heard the news. I should be feeling better by now. But I wasn’t, and I refused to consider my physical lamentations had anything to do with Kara’s engagement. 

So what if she’d tried to wheedle back into my good graces? So what if she’d lied—tried to manipulate me to her will again?

We’d broken up ages ago. She’d moved on. I had, too, and I’d proven that last night.

Now, I needed to consider this job in Laramie. Cassidy was in remission. My parents…well, I wasn’t sure what they were, but it wasn’t as if I’d be able to fix their relationship, no matter how much I wanted to. 

And Clay was married to his soul mate. He was settled, happy. 

He had everything I’d ever wanted, and he’d thumbed his nose at…at least until he met Abbi. 

Not his fault that he found love first. Maybe it wasn’t in the cards for me. Much as I hated to consider that option, I feared I’d end up as that weird, forgetful professor that students whispered about. I pondered this possibility, not liking that future.

Maybe what I really needed was to shake up my situation. 

That’s when I saw the body on the edge of the highway.

All secrets come with a price in this page-turning romantic suspense by USA Today Bestselling Author, Alexa Padgett.

Someone will stop at nothing to silence her…

Ethical hacker Tawny Reed chose the FBI over a possible criminal record….and gave up any semblance of a life to meet her handler’s stringent demands. But getting stabbed in the line of duty wasn’t part of the plan: she deals in code and algorithms, not the blood and violence that cost her father his life.

Biology professor Colt Rippey rushes to save an injured woman on the side of the road. That white-knight act tumbles him into Tawny’s world of power built on lies–and people’s lives. When Tawny reveals she has nowhere to go, Colt suggests they hide in his cabin deep on the Olympic Peninsula. There, he hopes to save Tawny and even give his life some meaning.

Danger stalks Tawny and Colt, making it difficult to know who they can trust. The sanctuary Tawny finds in Colt’s arms and bed is temporary. Isolated in a remote cabin, hunted by figures who want to silence her, Tawny must outpace and outmaneuver the men who destroyed her life years before. The hunt is on…will Tawny’s timebomb explode while Colt risks his life and future to keep Tawny safe?

**Disclaimer: The following material is copyrighted and subject to change.**

Tawny

Sunday

The man who I’d let into my home wanted to kill me.

The moment he pulled the knife from behind his back, I couldn’t take my gaze off the glinting sharp edge—not even as I inched along the wall. 

I needed to buy some space.

I needed to buy some time.

I needed the possibility of a choice.

Nothing presented itself.

I glanced at the door, and Howie smirked. No way I’d make it, and we both knew it. Not only was he closer, but he also had longer legs, longer arms.

“I could have given you everything, Tawn,” he drawled. “I would have given you the world. Hell, if you wanted, I would have married you.”

“You came to me with a job.” I shuddered. “We weren’t dating.”

Howie shrugged. “I dumped my girlfriend for you. I came here to tell you that.” His voice turned wheedling. “I wanted to give us a shot. With your skills and my connections, we could own the world. Literally own it. Kara couldn’t give me that.” His voice dropped, becoming silkier. “But you could. You still can. Just fix that little problem and we’ll pretend it never happened.”

My mouth dried out, and I shuddered as he stepped closer to where I was pressed against the wall of my cabin. The man was clearly deranged.

When Howie approached me about a potential job, Agent Russo seemed pleased, telling me I could help lure him in, get more information. He’d told me he’d gotten my name from a colleague, which wasn’t unusual. I kept a small stable of clients outside the FBI work to keep up appearances and give me better cover, but I hadn’t liked how he seemed to know more about me than I knew about him. That’s probably why I’d started looking into his email history as opposed to the firewall. 

Well, that and Agent Russo wanted to know everything about Howie. Again, not unusual, but something about this case caused me to feel…cold. I’d been thrilled to send my initial findings to Agent Russo, hoping that would mean my interaction with Howie would be over.

Until he’d shown up a few moments before. And, stupidly, I’d let him into my cabin. I’d been so stupid.

I couldn’t take back the messages I’d just attempted to send to Russo even if I wanted to. Hopefully they are already on a secure FBI server, but I didn’t get a chance to see if the download was complete. I wanted Howie to pay for his crimes. And for scaring me, and for now wanting me dead.

Like I could ever trust him Not that I ever had, but he’d proven when he’d drawn the blade that there was no way he’d keep his promise to me—the promise that I’d be safe, and we’d be together. No way in hell.

My hand fumbled against the window ledge and my knees weakened. My head swam for a long moment as I nearly sobbed with relief as my finger closed around the latch. It wasn’t a door, but if I could give myself a few precious seconds, maybe I could climb out the window. Better make it dive out. 

I kept my mouth shut, which was a massive undertaking for me. Not that I was normally talkative—hello, computer geek, here—but I was also curious. Clearly, that saying about curiosity and the cat was true in my current predicament.

I wanted to ask him why he’d cheated the company out of millions of dollars. He’d been cheating for at least six months from what I’d gathered during my weekend of investigating. Probably longer. 

Howie was known to be one of Seattle’s biggest financial players. No one knew how he’d gotten his money. Except me. I knew how he’d gotten some of it, and now—soon—someone at the FBI did or would…when they read the messages I’d sent to their server.

But that wouldn’t help me now. Not with the knife in my face and my cabin located hours from the city and any help that could arrive. 

I never should have let Agent Russo talk me into working this case in the first place. Perfectly safe, she’d said.

Well, my ass was about to be sliced up, so I disagreed strongly with Agent Russo’s assessment. That damn curiosity again… Agent Russo had raised questions I couldn’t ignore that led me to uncover that IP address. 

Fine. Howie led me to the IP address because, unlike me, Howie wasn’t good with technology. I’d used his email account to deposit the door I needed into his company. And all that information was available on the laptop sitting on the end table, mere feet from me. Feet that would put me closer to Howie…and his sharp, scary knife.

Something hit the roof—probably a pinecone—and Howie turned slightly, no doubt to make sure we were still alone—like anyone was coming to save me. Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, I lunged forward and grabbed my laptop. Howie turned back toward me and I swung the computer at his head. 

I resisted the urge to check on him and held my computer tightly. It was my evidence—well, my back-up evidence, in case my message didn’t go through.

I bolted back to the window, threw it open, and began to wriggle out. The need to turn from my hips to my stomach to fit through the narrow space probably saved my life. I shifted just as a knife blade shredded my jeans and tore across the front of my thigh before clattering to the floor. I screamed in agony.

He’d stabbed me. That cheating, lying asshole stabbed me. Evidently, I hadn’t hit him hard enough. I bit my tongue until I tasted blood, unwilling to cry out again or faint from the pain in my thigh.

I pulled my good knee forward and drove my heel back into his chest with as much force as I could manage. 

My kick landed on his belly. Howie grunted and stumbled, falling hard against a bookshelf.

I watched as he struck his head against one of the shelves, creating a meaty, head-ache-inducing thunk. Praying this time he wouldn’t get back up, I managed to toss out the laptop, then crawl out the window, tumbling to the porch surface in an untidy heap. I gritted my teeth as I staggered to my feet, holding back another sob as pain tore through my leg. The front of my jeans were destroyed, but maybe the wound was superficial?

No such luck.

The slash was a couple of inches above my knee. I couldn’t see bone, which was a good sign. The leg could also bear my weight, even though the cut burned and bled with each jostle. 

I paused for a moment, allowing some of the dizziness from the shock to pass. My stomach felt like a lead cannonball tied to the world’s largest helium balloon. The disconcerting trick to my middle caused more lightheadedness to ensue.

I opened the laptop case, cringing at the creaking noise and unsurprised to find the screen cracked—and blue. Shit. That wasn’t good. Not at all. Still, if I were lucky, the hard drive would be intact, and I could remove it from this shell and install it in another. 

I closed the case and clutched the machine to me, a talisman of when life was normal and good. I hoped those files went through to the server, but if my hotspot wasn’t able to connect and transfer the data before Howie had shown up at my door, then… The answer to that was unclear until I could check. 

And here and now wasn’t the place or time. Not with Howie planning to cut me to shreds. I shuddered, stomach convulsing at the idea of more of my blood leaving my body. 

Think.

I didn’t have the keys to my vehicle. And going back in to get them seemed foolhardy. Howie might awaken at any moment. That left walking, either on the path, which I immediately nixed because, again, if Howie woke, he’d easily find me there, or the nearby woods. 

Blood saturated my jeans below the cut. 

Okay, if my jeans absorbed the blood, then I wouldn’t leave an obvious trail. Since I had only my long-sleeved T-shirt on to protect me from the cold December night when it fell in a few hours, I didn’t want to tear it up for a bandage unless I had to. 

Woods it was, then.

I straightened my spine as I limped into the trees. I’d figure a way out of this conundrum. It was a logic problem, something I excelled at.

At least I used to. 

I stumbled through the woods, unwilling to stop, worried I’d fall into shock, even as my legs weighed me to the ground and my shivering increased. My eyes slid closed and I forced them open, just as I forced myself to move forward. I took another step, and another, heedless of the tears streaming down my cheeks. 

I needed a drink of water. I needed a blanket. I needed medical attention.

After stumbling my way through the underbrush, for what seemed like forever, I hit the narrow strip of Highway 101 that would eventually lead out to Lake Quinault. Unfortunately, that just led me deeper into the Olympic Peninsula, and more exposed to Howie’s violence when he found me. If he found me. I shuddered and gagged as my mind replayed the crack of his head against the bookshelf.

Safety. I needed to be safe. I stood for a moment before turning south. Seattle. The FBI. That was my best chance. I began to walk close to the road, but not too close. I needed to be able to dart back into the woods at the first sound of a vehicle.

I stumbled again. So tired. My limbs and lids must weigh thousands of pounds.

I’d never been hurt before—violence was new to me, and I really, really didn’t like participating in it.

“I’m a statistic,” I muttered. “A domestic violence number.”

My toes caught under a root and I tripped, sprawling. I cried out as my wounded leg jarred against the ground. I managed to turn so I landed on my shoulder, protecting my laptop from the brunt of the fall. I couldn’t lose the work there. It was my ticket out of this mess—my best chance to finally leave this work and head out to Wyoming.

I’d made promises to my mom, and I really wanted to keep them. But I had to complete this project to be in a position to follow through. 

My mother lived in Laramie now and needed help, sandwiched as she was between her ill parents and the kids she’d started fostering a few years ago. 

We hadn’t spoken in years, but she had reached out to me a while back and now she wanted my help. And I wanted to give it, to prove to her I was more than the mistakes of my past. But that meant getting up and walking. 

Except I couldn’t manage to rise again. I was tired and cold and scared.

This wasn’t what I’d signed up for. 

I snorted. I didn’t get to decide what I’d do for the Bureau. That was what I’d signed up for: to do whatever they needed. 

I had less than three months left on my contract. If I could survive this case.

But Howie wasn’t going to let me go—not without trying to silence me again. Fear and shock overwhelmed me, and my eyes slid closed. 

All secrets come with a price in this page-turning romantic suspense by USA Today Bestselling Author, Alexa Padgett.

Someone will stop at nothing to silence her…

Ethical hacker Tawny Reed chose the FBI over a possible criminal record….and gave up any semblance of a life to meet her handler’s stringent demands. But getting stabbed in the line of duty wasn’t part of the plan: she deals in code and algorithms, not the blood and violence that cost her father his life.

Biology professor Colt Rippey rushes to save an injured woman on the side of the road. That white-knight act tumbles him into Tawny’s world of power built on lies–and people’s lives. When Tawny reveals she has nowhere to go, Colt suggests they hide in his cabin deep on the Olympic Peninsula. There, he hopes to save Tawny and even give his life some meaning.

Danger stalks Tawny and Colt, making it difficult to know who they can trust. The sanctuary Tawny finds in Colt’s arms and bed is temporary. Isolated in a remote cabin, hunted by figures who want to silence her, Tawny must outpace and outmaneuver the men who destroyed her life years before. The hunt is on…will Tawny’s timebomb explode while Colt risks his life and future to keep Tawny safe?

**Disclaimer: The following material is copyrighted and subject to change.**

Colt

Saturday

I glanced back at the bartender, then at the wedding guests. The music throbbed through me. Two women tried to catch my eye. I downed a good portion of the scotch and set it on the counter, gesturing for another. Amber liquid splashed into the glass. The bartender leaned forward and slid a small piece of paper into my pocket.

“In case you’re awake…and need a ride later.”

I turned my attention back to the bartender. Her uniform of dark pants and blouse was prim. Her hair, though, was a wild cascade of large curls, and she’d done that cat-eye thing with her eyeliner, making her eyes stand out. They were pretty. A rich, dark brown I could drown in. 

I liked them. I liked her.

And if I took her up on her offer for a ride, how would I look into my mother’s eyes, knowing how she felt about one-night stands? How they’d shattered her trust and her confidence?

Did I want a meaningless fuck with a woman I had no intention of seeing again? How did that make me better than Kara?

She’d looked hot tonight, just as she’d intended. What pissed me off wasn’t how good she looked—I’d been attracted to her from the start for that very reason. No, Kara weaponized her looks and body to get what she wanted, but I’d been too horny to notice before. Kara was still Kara, but something in me had changed.

I clasped the crystal tumbler, trying to drown out the rising noise of the crowd.

I needed to get out of this situation. I needed to understand why I hadn’t seen Kara clearly while we were dating. Sure, I was angry with her, but a lot of that was self-directed. I’d brought her into my life—into my family’s lives—because I must have been a shallow prick who thought more with his dick than with his brain. Clearly, I needed a break from everything.

Maybe I should visit the cabin at Lake Quinault. There, I could think more clearly about the request for an interview I’d received last week for a tenured position in the science department at the University of Wyoming.

“You know what? I’ve changed my mind,” I said to the bartender. 

I pulled out her number and dropped it into the glass. She didn’t bat an eyelash, which surprised me.

Instead she smiled a little as she took the glass and emptied it behind her. “Wasn’t my number,” she said.

I raised an eyebrow.

“I wondered what kind of guy you were. Had me worried for a minute I’d misjudged you.” 

“What was it, then?” I mumbled. My vision was a bit fogged. How much had I had to drink? Too much.

“That was the number for a cab company.”

“Why do some women use their bodies and looks to get what they want?” I asked. 

The bartender shrugged. “No shame in using what you got. This is a tough world.”

“You’re smart,” I said.

“You’re drunk,” she shot back.

“A little.”

She poured me a glass of water and shoved it into my hands. “Drink it. I’ll get you another. Call someone to get you home.”

“I have a room here. If I decide against that, I’ll get a ride.” I raised my hand at her wary look. “Promise.”

“Good.” She smiled. “I saw you with your mom. I listened to what you said in your speech to your brother and his wife. I think you might be one of the good ones.” 

I drained the glass, set it on the bar, and she refilled it. “I want what they have,” I murmured. 

We both turned to look at Abbi and Clay, who were once again on the dance floor, faces shining with love.

“Then, go out and find it,” she said. “And remember your promise about getting a ride.”

I pulled out my wallet and dropped a fifty in her tip jar. “Well, what-ever-your-name-is, you’ve given me a lot to think about. So, thanks.”

She smiled and then turned to help another customer who’d ambled up to her station.

I looked around the room again.

 Abbi, my mom, and my sister were lovely both inside and out. That’s what Kara was missing—the internal beauty that went beyond selfishness. The brilliant bartender was right. Kara used her assets to get ahead in the world. But her skin would wrinkle and sag with age, and her body wouldn’t be as tight or hot as it was today. Then, she’d have to rely on a personality that left a lot to be desired. When that happened, good luck to her.

I wanted what Clay had with Abbi—what my father was trying to rebuild with my mom.

I wanted that kind of love.

So I did the only thing left to me: I walked away. Away from the liquor, away from the easy, meaningless sex, away from the party…from all of it.

I’d take a break and get my head on straight. Then, I could go out and look for a woman, once I knew exactly what I wanted in her.

I headed upstairs to the room my dad insisted I take, glad to crash onto the bed, which I did without bothering to remove my shoes. 

I awoke five hours later, thanks to my pounding head. My mouth tasted of cotton dipped in formaldehyde. I made a cup of coffee and showered. As I brushed my teeth, I grimaced at the face that stared back at me in the mirror. 

I looked like shit. Part of the reason was because I’d drunk too much but also because I let Kara get to me so deeply. Much as I hated to admit it, I’d planned out my future with her—down to how many kids we’d have—while she planned to drop me for the next best thing.

Making assumptions was frowned upon in my line of work, and clearly should be in my personal life, too. 

No one else would be awake this early, so I decided to forgo breakfast with my family and head back to my small, well-appointed apartment near Northwestern’s campus.

I bummed around Sunday morning, my head aching too much to do more than flop on the couch and check my social media accounts. I’d defended my dissertation last week. For the first time in what seemed like a decade, I was finished with my responsibilities at Northwestern. 

One of my buddies DM’ed me asking if I was okay. 

“Why?” I wrote back.

“Just saw Kara’s new status. Wanted to make sure you were handling her engagement.”

All secrets come with a price in this page-turning romantic suspense by USA Today Bestselling Author, Alexa Padgett.

Someone will stop at nothing to silence her…

Ethical hacker Tawny Reed chose the FBI over a possible criminal record….and gave up any semblance of a life to meet her handler’s stringent demands. But getting stabbed in the line of duty wasn’t part of the plan: she deals in code and algorithms, not the blood and violence that cost her father his life.

Biology professor Colt Rippey rushes to save an injured woman on the side of the road. That white-knight act tumbles him into Tawny’s world of power built on lies–and people’s lives. When Tawny reveals she has nowhere to go, Colt suggests they hide in his cabin deep on the Olympic Peninsula. There, he hopes to save Tawny and even give his life some meaning.

Danger stalks Tawny and Colt, making it difficult to know who they can trust. The sanctuary Tawny finds in Colt’s arms and bed is temporary. Isolated in a remote cabin, hunted by figures who want to silence her, Tawny must outpace and outmaneuver the men who destroyed her life years before. The hunt is on…will Tawny’s timebomb explode while Colt risks his life and future to keep Tawny safe?

**Disclaimer: The following material is copyrighted and subject to change.**

Colt

Saturday

Watching my younger brother stare into his new wife’s eyes as they shared their first dance sucked massive donkey dick.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved my brother, and Clay and Abbi were perfect for each other. Perfect. And I was a jealous sack of shit who couldn’t shake the envy rippling across my skin and the soul-deep frustration that my baby brother found his bride before I managed to land mine.

Everything had been cool until Kara, my ex-girlfriend, walked into the reception venue, stopping at an archway covered with small red flowers and berries that, as my little sister Cassidy pointed out, matchedAbbi’s bridesmaids’ dresses and bouquets. 

The effect, especially against the wood-beamed ceilings and the gauzy white cloths that hung around the outer edge of the space, created an epic winter wonderland—a gorgeous backdrop to Clay and Abbi’s perfect night. 

The night that my now-ex, who I’d spent part of the last year trying to forget, was trying to ruin for them.

I was pissed off and shocked. For the record, that’s hard to do when your father was an international rock star. Still, she showed serious audacity, showing up at my baby bro’s wedding reception like that. No way in fuck was she invited. And where was the security my parents spent so much money on each month? Stopping breaches at important events was the whole point of having a private army.

Damn Kara for her audacity. At one point, I’d found that attractive. Not anymore. A while back, I’d thought Kara was the one. Apparently, she still managed to turn me inside out, even though I knew what a scummy person she was. This…this was why I’d sworn off women. Because I couldn’t trust myself to make good emotional decisions where she was concerned.

As I watched Kara take in the beautiful room full of famous, powerful people with a greedy stare, the last of my hope to find someone who loved me for me—not for my dad’s fame and money—shattered.

With these thoughts, I bee-lined over to Kara, my blood pressure escalating as a small smile bloomed across her lips. As if she expected me to fall in line with her plan to…I assumed…get back together. 

No way. I wanted her out of here. Pronto. 

The closer I walked, the more I noted the red of Kara’s flattering dress. It made her tits look amazing and had been designed to emphasize her sensuality and delectable curves. Kara’s dark hair fell in a long cascade down her back, the front swooping dramatically over her brow. She was dressed for seduction, not for celebration. Part of me was turned on. A larger part of me was pissed off that I was turned on. Kara was beautiful and smart, but she was also calculating, and clearly, those seduction tactics had worked before on me. So much so, she’d just door-crashed my brother’s wedding.

Clearly, nothing with this woman was sacrosanct. And that shit didn’t fly with me.

As I passed him, my father tossed me a look, eyebrows raised.

“You okay to handle her, Colt?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“All right, then. Holler if you need any help.”

As soon as I reached Kara, I gripped her upper arm and led her straight back out the way she’d come.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I growled.

I wasn’t a growler. I was the thinker—a scientist, the logical, rational one in my family of artists. But, right now, I was lit up brighter than the sparklers we would use to send my brother off to start his happily-ever-after. The one this woman could ruin if I didn’t get her out of there, stat.

“I wanted to talk to you,” Kara said, fluttering her lashes. “To discuss our…future.”

I paled, worried for a moment that she was pregnant. Wait. No, she’d definitely be showing a substantial bump if I’d gotten her pregnant.

And, if anything, she looked better than she had while we were together. I also knew she never mentioned a child or had a pregnant belly in these last months before I’d stopped checking her social media photos. That was when I’d been trying to understand how she could dump me for a man twice my age. 

Awareness pumped through me as I remembered that greedy look she’d cast when she entered the room. I’d never been the prize she wanted. Power, prestige…that’s what Kara craved.

I was simply a teaching assistant at Northwestern, working on my Ph.D. A nobody with a famous father. She’d latched onto me for my name—my pedigree—and when I failed to produce the desired results, she dropped me faster than a hot potato. How I’d been so hoodwinked, I couldn’t say. But more with each passing second, I realized I’d dodged a bullet.

“So you thought it would be appropriate to crash my brother’s wedding?” My voice turned more menacing. 

The hurt I’d carried around all this time morphed into righteous anger. How dare she take something important to my family and trivialize it? 

Kara blinked, her lips parting slightly as if she were finally beginning to understand I was pissed. 

“Y-you wouldn’t answer my calls. Or return my texts.”

I straightened so I stood at my full height. I let go of her arm and stepped back, still blocking the entrance. No way she would get another look at my family, more gossip to share with her friends.

“There was a reason for that,” I snapped. “I don’t want to talk to you. Or look at you. Or ever see you again.”

“Colt—”

“There isn’t one thing you can say to me that will make me forgive your selfishness tonight,” I said.

“I’m sorry for how I ended things. I-I want to get back with you. We were so good together.” She tilted her chin and met my gaze with hers. “Let me prove how much I want us.”

And I felt…nothing. 

“I loved you,” I mused as I studied her.

She shifted, no doubt thinking she’d won this round, expecting me to fall into her bed and beg her to spend my family’s money. Yeah, that was a huge part of my appeal. Kara wanted my parents’ wealth and prestige, which would never be mine. They expected me to work for what I had, and I did. That wasn’t to say they didn’t provide me with great perks, because they did, but I adhered to a budget and refused additional offers of financial assistance. I wanted to make my own way, wanted my parents to be proud of me. Once Kara realized that, she dumped my ass for some investment broker asshole. I hoped the sex was terrible. 

“I still love you, Colt.” She stepped closer; palm raised to lay on my chest. I shifted my weight and crossed my arms to block her attempt. No way would this woman touch me. She didn’t have permission to breathe my air, let alone put her hands on me.

“Bullshit.” My voice cut deep and hard, and she flinched. “You never loved me, which was why you dumped me—”

“I wanted to keep things casual. You were so intense, wanting to tie up our future. I was…” She licked her lower lip, no doubt shooting for seduction, but only managed to look nervous. 

“I don’t care what you were. Or what you are now. We”—I pointed between us—“are over. We have been since the moment you fucked the banker. It just took me longer to find out.”

“Don’t do this to us, Colt,” she whispered, eyes filling with tears. “Don’t throw our great love away.”

From the corner of my eye, I caught bodies moving in our direction. Security. I grimaced. Their job had been to keep crashers like her, and all the press, out in the first place.

“You did that. You. Grow up and live with your choices.”

“He left me.”

I shrugged and stepped back as three security officers in suits swarmed around us. 

“Sorry, Mr. Rippey. She told us she was your date. Had pictures of you together.”

“She’s my ex. And always will be. Make sure she doesn’t get back in the venue or get anywhere near my family—any of them—again.”

Their frowns deepened as they realized how much they’d fucked up. What had she offered them? A kiss? A blow job? Just a view of that tight, sexy body? I slid my hands into my pockets. Well, clearly, the males of our species weren’t as clever as we wanted to believe if so many of us were blinded by female curves.

“Colt—” Kara pleaded.

“Don’t ever—and I mean ever—contact me again.” I turned on my heel to re-enter the venue. 

But the doorway was blocked by my mother. She frowned, a slight crease between her brows. Her makeup was flawless and natural-looking, her wild hair, that I’d inherited, tied back in a complicated style that suited her elegant neck and pointed chin. Her dress was long and silky, flowing over her frame without being clingy or suggestive. My mother owned grace and dignity, creating an even starker contrast to Kara’s blatant sexuality. Even the guards noticed, shifting again, no doubt realizing they’d thought with their dicks. 

My heart rate escalated as I noted the fire in my mother’s eyes.

“Lee?” Mom said. One of the security personnel peeled off, heading back toward my mother. “If she isn’t gone in under a minute, I’m firing you.”

My mother was sweet—one of the nicest people ever. But she wasn’t happy, and she was making sure the staff understood the depth of her displeasure. 

“And, Kara,” my mother added, raising her voice. “If you don’t abide by Colt’s wishes, and if you decide to make trouble at my child’s wedding or in any of their lives in the future, the entire city will find out what a diabolical bitch you are.”

Kara gasped, her gaze shooting to mine. I stood, stone-faced, as the two remaining guards ushered her away. Lee brought up the rear as Kara looked back. My mother tugged me inside. 

“I never liked her, Colt. I just want to point that out.”

I smirked. “Diabolical bitch?”

Mom smoothed the front of her dress, her hands trembling. “She dumped you, then when the going got tough in her new relationship, thought she could slither back into your bed and good graces. Seemed like the term fit.”

Ah, hell. My mom wasn’t really talking about me. She was transferring her anger and resentment and other ugly emotions about my father’s affairs onto Kara. No, it wasn’t fair, but my mother couldn’t do anything about those other women. Yeah, he’d had more than one sexcapade in his years of touring—that had come out when Clay broke up with Abbi, fearing he’d end up like our dad. I didn’t know all the details, but I was glad Clay and Abbi patched up their relationship and that my father took ownership of his shitty decisions.

And it seemed that my mother had just taken out her need for revenge on Kara. While I wasn’t sure her choice was healthy, at least I could understand her reasoning.

I pressed a kiss to my mom’s cheek, hoping to relieve some of the tension sizzling off of her. “You were a badass.”

She smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes, and her face appeared pale. My father started toward us, but I shook my head, making sure he saw the warning in my expression. He nodded, his facial features pulling taut as he must have realized what set my mom off. Dad’s infidelity was a painful undercurrent to my folks’ relationship—one that seemed to be getting worse, not better.

Dad knew he’d fucked up, literally. My mother was brave enough to tell him so and then to forgive him, or at least try to. How she found that strength, I wasn’t sure. And now that I witnessed her anger and continued pain, I wondered if she would ever be able to truly let Dad’s affairs go. The possibility of my parents failing to reconcile and return to a loving marriage left me with a hollow, haunted feeling in the pit of my belly.

None of those thoughts should be going through my head on my brother’s wedding day. I should be focused on Clay’s love for Abbi, not the implosion of my love life and the continued fallout from my dad’s bad decisions.

Even if those realities gave me yet another good reason to steer clear of romantic entanglements.

I pulled my mother to the edge of the dance floor and into my arms. “I need to dance with you, BAM.”

“What’s that?”

“BAM—Bad Ass Mom.”

She smirked, some of her color returning. I glanced down at the violet dress she wore so well. My mother was a lovely woman. Her hair gleamed under the lights. I knew she dyed it, but she didn’t have many grays to begin with. Her features were delicate without being fragile and her eyes held humor and secrets that would probably break me.

She let me take her fine-boned hand and lead her in a waltz. 

Mom was hurting. Dad was, too. Maybe you got a shot at real love and maybe it fucked you over. I glanced at Abbi and Clay, hoping they had the lasting kind, the kind I wanted so badly I could taste the tang of envy on my tongue.

But I’d give up my own eternal happiness for my brother and my parents. In a heartbeat. Maybe less. So, it was time to stop being a jealous ass and start paying attention, start being a better brother and son.

By the end of the dance, both Mom and I were in better moods. My father appeared at Mom’s side, his eyes questioning. I handed Mom off to him and he held her close to his chest like the treasure she was.

Good. At least they were enjoying the wedding. I looked around for my younger sister Cassidy, who was in an animated conversation with Abbi’s thirteen-year-old stepbrother, Mason. They were the same height, but that wouldn’t last long. Cassidy’s dark hair hit her shoulders, such a difference from the fly-away blond locks of her youth and before her cancer treatments. 

Clay and Abbi sat at the head table, grinning at something Abbi’s mom, Dahlia, a beautiful woman with serene gray eyes and long reddish hair, and her stepfather, Asher Smith, said to them. Both Asher and Dahlia beamed as they looked at their daughter and son-in-law.

Clay and his bride sparkled brighter than a Times Square billboard. My parents joined them; their smiles effervescent. 

As I watched, Clay raised their clasped hands and pressed a kiss to Abbi’s knuckle, right above her wedding ring. She met his eyes, her smile warming. Her hair was tucked back in some intricate twist thing with curls touching her temples and the back of her neck. Abbi looked like the picture-perfect bride, but it was more to do with how she looked at Clay than what she was wearing.

I inhaled deeply, then exhaled. Getting rid of Kara once and for all felt good. Damn good. As did setting a course for my life. Like I was finally letting go of my past and ready to take steps toward my future. 

I snagged a glass of champagne and lifted the flute, draining the liquid in two gulps. Not my first glass and it wouldn’t be my last—I wanted to release the residual tension from my flare up with Kara. I’d already given my speech and planned to let loose. I wouldn’t ponder how Clay managed to try to throw away love, and yet got it so right, while I utterly failed at relationships. I glanced at the open bar Asher Smith so generously provided. I lowered my glass and ambled over, winking at the pretty bartender who smiled back, flashing a dimple even as she plucked a clean glass and a bottle of champagne from the row lined up in front of her. 

Up close, she was prettier. Desire pooled low in my belly.

Nope. Not acting on that, no matter how pretty she was. Had I learned nothing from my altercation with my ex? From my parents’ continued struggles?

“Got any scotch back there?” I asked.

Her brows pinched but she nodded. 

“Great,” I said. “Fill ’er up.”

“Um…”

I winked. “I’m the brother of the groom.”

Her mouth twisted, her eyes cooling. “And you’re in love with his bride?”

My jaw dropped, slack with shock. “What? Fuck, no.” 

She shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time I had a jilted brother having a drink and sobbing out his woes at my station.”

I was deeply offended she thought I’d ever do something so callous and unbearably stupid. 

But I did yearn…no that wasn’t a strong enough word. I burned for a woman to love with the same all-consuming passion and focus that Clay and Abbi shared.

“My ex showed up tonight,” I said, my voice flat.

“That’s uncool—unless you wanted her back.” The bartender leaned forward on her station.

“Nope. I don’t take back cheaters or liars.”

A dimple flashed in her cheek. “Smart man.”

“Allows me to avoid some emotional baggage. I hope.”

“Will it?” she asked.

I stared down at the glass as the amber liquid began to glug into it. I didn’t want the liquor. I didn’t want anything to dull the way I was feeling now. Remembering how terrible I felt as my old love tried to reinstate herself in my life—that was my best line of defense.

One I needed to remember.

“Fuck if I know.”

Giveaway ends February 11, 2020.

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