by J. W. Ashley
PRAISE FOR J.W. ASHLEY’S NOVELS
OLIVE YOU
“An enjoyable compilation of short stories about a group of girlfriends who are searching for true love. Each story stands alone, but they are interconnected. A great read!”
-Amazon Reviewer
“This book takes you through a whole year of ups and downs in their love life. Humor is woven into serious times and romance always wins out. “
-Gma L (Amazon Reviewer)
THE LUMBERJACK EFFECT
“…the type of story that clutches you at once and does not release you until you get to the end…”
-Sleep Reader (Amazon Reviewer)
“Hot, sexy lumberjack with a heart of gold? Yes please!”
-Book Lover Merci (Amazon Reviewer)
BOOKS BY J.W. ASHLEY
Standalones
Olive You
The Lumberjack Effect
Long Road Home
Home For Summer
The Whiskey Effect
The Corrupted Trilogy
Rescuing Norah
Shielding Jemma
Targeting Celeste
The Whiskey Effect
J.W. Ashley
To my one and only. There’s no way I’d be able to do this without you.
Oh! And your steak is the best.
Love you, boo!
The Whiskey Effect
by J.W. Ashley
Copyright © 2020. All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, businesses and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places, or actual events is entirely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Edited by Dawn
Proofread by Dominique
Cover Design by Pink Ink Designs
Contents
Prologue
1. Not Ready To Hang Up My Ho Hat
2. Can’t Braid This Hair
3. Good Advice
4. Beer Me
5. Lumberjacks Are All You Need
6. Clam-jammed
7. It Was A Mattress Attack!
8. Save A Horse, Ride A…Leo?
9. The Best Meat I’ve Ever Had
10. Fact: It’s Impossible To Hate A Butterfly
11. Intoxicated And Heading Straight For Dessert
12. Olive Oil Can Be Used For Just About Anything
13. It’s Been Fun
14. Dream Leo Nookie
15. My Mission…Should I choose To Accept It…
16. No Time For Heartbreak…
17. Bringing Out The Big Guns
18. Nope. Not Going There.
19. Poking The Lumberjack
20. Damn You, Leo Hayes
Epilogue
Long Road Home
About the Author
Contemporary Romance by J.W. Ashley
Fantasy Romance By Jessica Wayne
Prologue
Claudia
Casual Sex.
I live my life by those two words, doing what I want when I want, my only rule for survival: don’t get attached.
I live, breathe, drink, and fuck. Then, I wake up and do it all over again. With no emotions involved, I can lose myself in the sex. Enjoy the aftermath when my skin is slick with sweat, my body still trembling from the best kind of release. For me, the need to fuck is primal, a deep-rooted desire to feel a connection—any connection, really. And he gave me that.
Music surrounds me. The thump, thump, thump of the beat pounding straight through me. I can feel it in my bones as I sway my hips. Tears stream down my cheeks, the darkness of the club clouding me in privacy even as people surround me. I might as well be alone in the world.
Crazy.
Reckless.
Wild.
Three words used to describe me on more than one occasion, but now, I—Claudia Peterson—no longer find the thrill in the fleeting. I can no longer see the allure of a sexy stranger in the dark.
Now, my heart yearns for one person.
One man who has brought me more happiness than I ever thought I could possibly experience. Leo filled the giant hole in my heart I hadn’t even realized was there to begin with. He made me feel again, made me believe in love, in a happily ever after. Two things I know are not possible for me.
After all, love is not in my DNA. My grandmother was alone, my mother’s track record has been spotty at best. Douchebags are drawn to us, flies to shit, and have been for my entire matriarchal line.
Until Leo. Typically, when the weekend ends, so do my relationships. But with him, when the casualness slowly faded away, I was left with heart-wrenching, gut-twisting feelings.
Dammit.
The asshole actually made me want more. Had me craving his touch, desperate to spend just one more moment as the subject of his attention. And he almost had me earlier. But when he rolled over and put his arm over me, I knew it was time to go. Because if I didn’t, the past month we spent together would have been tainted with anger.
And as much as I knew the relationship needed to end, I wanted to hold on to as much of the happiness he gave me as I possibly could.
Double dammit.
“Hey there, sweetheart!”
I open my eyes as a man steps in front of me, moving his hips with the music. I shake my head and turn away. He takes it as an invitation though and grabs my hips, palming my ass and squeezing hard as if I came to this club to be his fucking object. Typically, I’d turn around and give him a verbal lashing. But I’m angry and feeling a bit reckless, so I spin and slam my fist into his chin.
Pain radiates up my arm as he stumbles back.
“What the fuck, bitch?” he roars loud enough that a handful of nearby dancers hear over the music. I turn away, shoving through the crowd.
I told Leo I didn’t want anything serious. Good, filthy fun is what I’d asked for. It’s rule number one: no strings.
But the asshole broke right through that rule as though it were a pane of sugar glass and he was an action star whose mission was to take me down—repeatedly. Which he did, wonderfully. And when I told him things needed to end, did he let me walk away? No, he sexed me into a delicious stupor where I genuinely wondered if things could work out.
So why am I here in a packed club alone as I cry my eyes out to some song I don’t recognize? I’m a coward. I ran. Bolted the moment things felt too real, and now, no matter how much I regret it, I know I can’t go back.
Part of me hopes he’ll chase after me even as the logical part of my brain tells me that I will never see Leo Hayes again.
Not Ready To Hang Up My Ho Hat
Claudia
“Anyway, with my job, I get to travel quite a bit. I’ve seen nearly all fifty states and Vegas quite a few times. A lot of people think that as a travel agent, I would have been overseas, but I tend to stay in the states. I like my routine. Plus, there are so many beautiful places here in America.”
Larrie reaches over and touches my hand. There’s no zing, no zap, not even a shred of attraction in the touch, so I force a smile and slip my fingers out from beneath his clammy palm.
“That sounds interesting. What has been your favorite place so far?” I ask, wishing the waiter would hurry up with the check already. I’m ready to slip into some sweatpants, wipe off all my mak
eup, and binge Love Is Blind on Netflix.
Now that’s an idea. I consider placing myself in the shoes of those women. Talking to men without actually seeing them—could I do that? I’m not so sure. Love that lasts a lifetime? Not a damn chance. Right now, all I’m looking for is someone to hold my interest for longer than an appetizer.
“What about you? Claudia?”
Shit. I haven’t been listening to a single thing Larrie just said. Has he seriously been talking this entire time? “Sorry?”
His brown eyes study me, a line forming between his brows. “Were you listening?”
“Yes, I’m sorry, I’ve got a bit of a headache.”
Gaze softening, he reaches across the table and takes my hand again. He’s handsome, the light steel coloring of his suit complementing his tanned skin. Dark hair short, he’s clean, well-kept, and kind. Basically, other than being boring and having zero interest to see anywhere else in the world, he checks all my boxes.
So what the hell is wrong with me?
“I’m sorry your head hurts. Would you like to leave?”
I force a smile, feeling pretty damn guilty I was being such a bitch. “I would. I’m sorry.”
“No problem.” He squeezes my hand before releasing me and lifting his arm to call the waiter over.
Not wanting him to grab my hand again, I slip it beneath the table and fold it in the skirt of my off-white dress. I honestly do feel terrible, but if I’m not feeling it—I’m not feeling it.
And with this guy, I’m not feeling it even a little bit.
The waiter comes over, and Larrie hands over his credit card.
“Oh, can we split it?” I ask, not wanting him to pay for me when I have no intention of ever going out with him again.
“No.” He smiles and shakes his head. “I’ve got it.”
I start to argue, but before I can say anything, the waiter is already walking away with Larrie’s Amex.
“I could have paid for mine.”
“Not interested, are you?” he asks, and I shake my head.
“I’m sorry.”
“No worries. To be honest, I’m not either. You’re beautiful, but—”
“No connection,” I finish, and he chuckles.
“A lesser man would be offended.”
I smile, great, so the guy is just getting interesting. “I’m glad you aren’t a lesser man.”
“Me too.”
The waiter returns with the card and hands the slip to Larrie. He signs it quickly and gets to his feet. I follow suit, grabbing my purse from the floor by my feet and hooking the thin chain on my shoulder.
Larrie touches the small of my back and guides me out of the restaurant. “Want to share an Uber?” he asks as we step out into the chilly night air.
“No thanks. I don’t live far. Think I might walk.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.” I kiss him lightly on the cheek. “Thanks for the date.”
He nods. “Nice to meet you, Claudia.”
“You too.”
With a wave, he walks toward the curb and pulls his phone out, probably calling an Uber. Technically, I live quite a ways away from here. But my best friend Lena’s place is only two blocks from here, so I start my walk.
The late May air is a bit chilly here in Boise, so I pull my wrap tighter around my shoulders and ponder the sexless mess that has become my life.
What the hell is wrong with me? I’ve been on fourteen dates in the last two months, and not a single one of them have interested me.
When was the last time? I think back over the past two months—hell, I go even further back than that. Tommy. I snap my fingers as I recall the name of the last man I felt even a shred of connection with.
We’d spent a weekend in bed six months ago, and come Monday morning, the newness wore off, and I got a glimpse at the lazy, video-game testing nerd beneath. Not that I have anything against video games. But when it’s ten a.m. on a workday and the guy is still sitting on my couch, playing the Xbox he brought from home, there’s a problem.
I may work from home, but I still work.
“Hey there, beautiful.” A man wearing tight jeans and an Affliction T-shirt winks at me as he passes. A wave of Axe body spray washes over me and churns my stomach. “Maybe cool it on the spray next time, one is enough,” I say as I walk past him.
“Bitch,” I hear him mutter to his friend.
I ignore it. I know guys like him—I’ve dated plenty of them. He’ll argue with me until he gets bored, and then we’ll both walk away pissed off.
Besides, I have my own crisis I’m trying to figure out. Like, why can’t I get my lady bits revved up over someone? Anyone?
Shit, at this point, I’ll have to binge-watch Guardians of the Galaxy and get my Chris Pratt fix to get my motor going.
I head off the sidewalk and into Lena’s apartment building. The elevator dings, and a couple gets off, walking toward me, arm in arm. They don’t even see me, too wrapped up in each other—head over heels in love or lust. One of the two.
Either way, someone looks like they’re getting some tonight. And that makes me jealous as hell.
I press the button to take me up to Lena’s apartment, and as the elevator climbs, I realize exactly what I need.
A change of scenery. A break from this same old routine. I need to feel even a shred of excitement, something that will make me feel alive again.
When the elevator comes to a stop, I climb off and knock on Lena’s door, a code we developed back when we were kids. Knock, pause, knock, knock, pause, knock, knock, knock, pause.
The door opens. “I didn’t expect to see you tonight.” She steps to the side, and I walk into her nearly dark apartment.
I’m instantly jealous. My best friend is rocking what looks like the most comfortable sweatpants in the world along with a baggy navy blue T-shirt. She’s swept her long, blonde hair up on top of her head, and she shows no traces of makeup.
“Can I borrow some clothes?”
Lena chuckles. “You know you can. Want some wine?”
“Yes. Please. A thousand times, yes.”
“You got it.”
I head into her room and raid her drawers, taking a pair of black sweats and a T-shirt in the same color before I walk into the bathroom and stare at myself in the mirror. I went all out on makeup for this date because I was sure it was going to work.
We were a perfect match on the app. Everything should have gone according to plan, and yet, here I am, in Lena’s bathroom. Reaching beneath her sink, I pull out her makeup remover and start erasing the hour I spent on my face.
As soon as I’m clear, I walk back into the kitchen where Lena waits with a large glass of wine for me.
“Thanks.” I tip it up and drink deeply. Typically, I’m a sipper when it comes to wine, but tonight, I need an instant buzz. Something to make me feel—well—anything.
Lena refills my glass, and we take a seat on the soft brown cushions of her couch. “Bad date?”
“Not really,” I admit. “Just—is Becca asleep?” My Goddaughter is a bubbly, beautiful five-year-old. But her sweet, innocent little ears have no business hearing what I’m about to say.
“She is.”
“I think my vagina’s broken.”
Lena coughs, choking on the drink of wine she’d just taken in. “You have to time crap like that better.”
“Sorry,” I mutter and take a drink from my glass.
“You think your vagina is broken? Why?”
“I can’t find a single dude to get my bits warm. I mean, seriously, it shouldn’t be this hard to get laid.”
“Maybe you need more, now. Maybe—and stick with me here—you’re bored with flings.”
I gasp comically. “You take that back right now, Lena Garza. Right. Now.”
Shrugging, she takes a drink. “You’ve been playing the field for years, maybe you’re ready to take a base now.”
“I’ve been taking bases—I love takin
g bases.”
“You know what I mean. Maybe it’s time to bring it in, switch things up. Try something new.”
“Look, I love you, but you’re missing a part I rather enjoy.”
Lena snorts. “Same.” She sighs. “I mean, maybe it’s time you start looking for something more.”
I lean back against the back of the couch and close my eyes. “I’m not ready to hang my ho hat up.”
“Ho hat,” Lena says with a laugh. “That’s a new one.”
“I enjoy my no strings. It’s a good rule.”
“Maybe it’s time for a change. You could come with me, you know.”
Lena made the decision to leave Idaho—possibly for good. She’s decided it’s time to take Becca to meet the father who doesn’t even know she exists.
I know she’s super worried about it, and I don’t know why me tagging along hadn’t occurred to me before.
“To Montana?”
“Yes. Why not?”
I consider. It would be a change of scene—and I’d just decided like thirty minutes ago that I need one. Plus, lumberjacks. Montana is full of them, isn’t it?
Bearded mountain men could be exactly what I need.
“Montana,” I repeat. “That could be fun. Plus, you might need me.”
“I will definitely need you. Even if Graham doesn’t rip me a new one and tell me to go to hell.”
