Fixing You: A steamy summer romance. (You Collection Book 3)

by Roya Carmen

  Fixing You

  Roya Carmen

  Contents

  Copyright

  BLURB

  1. Act your age for a change

  2. Ten for super-hot!

  3. Let me have my fun with you

  4. I believe you get an A+, Miss Beals

  5. So Mr. Fox approves?

  6. I can’t lie… it was pretty fun

  7. See? You win either way

  8. I know you would never hurt me

  9. Sorry, I never make my bed

  10. I feel like doing something crazy

  11. I sort of… did something crazy

  12. …you’ve moved on

  13. You look well-ridden…

  14. …she’s crazy about you

  15. May I cut in, Sir?

  Epilogue

  A note from the author:

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Also by Roya Carmen

  Only You - Excerpt - Chapter One

  Copyright

  Previously published as His Fixer-Upper © Roya Carmen, 2016

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976. Copyright property of the author. No part of this content may be reproduced or distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes without prior written permission from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters and locations are either the product of the author’s imagination, or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, events or locales, is purely coincidental.

  Cover design, formatting and illustration: Calico Images

  Editing: CKMS Media

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  BLURB

  Fixing You

  The YOU Collection

  A steamy New Adult contemporary romance set in Seattle. 2.3 millions reads on Wattpad!

  Librarian Kirsten Beals is bookish, serious, and a little set in her ways. Her neighbor, tech wiz Ethan Fox, is her polar opposite; charming, smooth and playful. And she absolutely cannot stand him.

  But when Kirsten's long-time boyfriend Logan dumps her cold, Kirsten and Ethan team up to show Logan just exactly what he'll be missing.

  As Ethan works to sexy-up Kirsten, he comes to see her in a completely new light, and realizes there's more to her than nerdy glasses. And as he teaches her the ways of seduction, Kirsten realizes Ethan also has a secret identity of his own, and might not quite be the arrogant immature womanizer she thought he was.

  Author’s Note: this is an erotic romance and contains steamy sexual scenes. 18+

  This novel is a standalone, and a part of the YOU collection summer romance series.

  1

  Act your age for a change

  As fish flew at rocket-speed above Kirsten's head, she stood clustered between what seemed like a thousand tourists and realized the day was not turning out as expected. Seattle's famous Pike Place Fish Market. She had anticipated something a little more romantic. She lived and worked just a short walk away and she often came to the market for fresh ingredients to make dinner for her and her mother Lorraine. She loved Pike Place Market. But...

  When Logan had suggested they do something special with a curious expression, she had gotten all kinds of excited. This was it, she thought. The big day. They had been together for almost five years... it was time. Logan was a sweetie, a corporate lawyer, handsome in a preppy way. She thought he was quite the catch.

  But speaking of 'catch', she couldn't help but wonder if this wasn't quite the best suited location to pop the big question. Smelly men throwing slimy fish at each other? Perhaps not the most romantic spot in the world.

  But who knew? Maybe he wanted to do it smack in the middle of a crowd to make things a little more exciting. Yet, that didn't quite seem like him. He was rather a straight-arrow, as straight as they come. This was fine as far as Kirsten was concerned. After all, she was quite the straight-arrow herself. And her chosen profession of Librarian only added to the whole picture. Good Girl. Bookworm. Straight Arrow.

  She caught a quick glance of Logan and for the first time that day, he seemed to be enjoying himself, shouting along with the crowd. He had been acting weird and nervous all day, but Kirsten concluded that might have had a little something to do with the big impending question. Logan had not been himself lately. He was rather distant, an odd mix of miserable and happy. She inquired about his moods once or twice, and he told her it had to do with work.

  He caught her staring at him and nudged her shoulder. "Let's get out of here."

  She smiled wide. "Where to?"

  "Up for a little twirl in the sky?" he asked, but the concerned expression on his face confused Kirsten a little. This must be it, she thought. How perfect. A proposal on the famous Great Wheel. She could hardly contain her excitement. She grabbed his hand. "I'd love it," she almost sang.

  As they stood in line among tourists, she thought about her wedding day. What would her dress look like? Something sleek and classy, she concluded. And the flowers? Lavender and cream hydrangeas perhaps. Lavender for the bridesmaids. But who would her maid of honor be? She didn't really have a best friend. Her mother had taken on that role. As an only child, she had always been extremely close with her mom. And she also invested so much of her time with Logan, she hadn't had a chance to make friends in the past five years.

  As they stepped into the gondola car, her attention was brought back to Logan. He still seemed very jittery and she almost felt sorry for him. It must be nerve-wracking to pop the big question, she mused. They huddled close on the seat, looking out at the beautiful Seattle skyline and Elliot Bay. It was gorgeous. What a wonderful idea, she thought. She was certain there was a small velvet box hiding in the inside pocket of his jacket. She wanted to reach in and grab it. All in due time, she thought. But as they moved higher and the ride moved along, Logan was still silent. And Kirsten started to wonder.

  Finally, he turned to her. “Listen, Kirsten," he started, his expression completely serious. She was a tad surprised by his demeanor, but then again, Logan had always been the serious type. "You are such an amazing woman," he went on and her body stood to attention, wanting to rip the words out of his mouth. "You are beautiful," he told her. "You're extremely intelligent," he went on as his shoulders visibly slouched. "Any man would be lucky to have you."

  Something was off. She couldn't quite put her finger on it... but he looked so miserable. If he was just about to ask her to marry him, why did he look like he had the weight of the world resting on his shoulders? Why wasn't he happier? More excited?

  What?! Oh God... was he trying to end it? It almost sounded like it. But that couldn't possibly be it.

  "Are you..." she ventured with wide eyes, "...are you trying to break up with me?" she asked, eyes welling up. "On the Great Wheel?"

  He shook his head, completely flustered. "No, no," he insisted. "Of course not," he told her, swiftly jerking his gaze to the ocean. He did not utter another word, and neither did she.

  Just as she was about to fall into sobs, realizing there was not going to be a proposal; no velvet box, no momentous hug, no tears of joy, the attendant helped them out of the gondola car. Logan suggested they go for something to eat. She was confused. He was acting so peculiar. At first, she was sure he would ask her to spend the rest of his life with him, and the next minute, he seemed on the verge of
dumping her. What a roller coaster. Ferris wheels and roller coasters – she felt like she was at a theme park. A really crappy theme park.

  They settled down on uncomfortable wrought iron chairs in a quaint Paris-themed crêperie. Logan suggested the place, knowing how Kirsten loved crêpes. Kirsten indulged in a strawberry filled crêpe covered with extra whipped cream. Hell, she needed it.

  Logan stared down at the banana and Nutella crêpe in front of him, not touching it. He bit his lip. "Kirsten, I... I..." he started, stammering. "I lied earlier," he admitted. "The thing is... you were right.”

  She sat up straight, curious. "Right about what?" She desperately wanted to know what the hell was happening. "Please, be straight with me, Logan," she pleaded.

  He swallowed hard. "You know how much you mean to me, Kirsten..." She knew from his expression that this was it; the moment she dreaded. He was breaking up with her. "But I've been thinking about it for a while now," he struggled to add, "and I'm not sure I see you and me together in the future." He stared down at his untouched crêpe when he added, "I'm just not sure you're the one for me."

  Her heart sank. It felt like a dead weight pressing against her stomach. As she realized she was still holding her fork mid-air, the smell of strawberries filled her nostrils. This didn't make sense. Why now? So suddenly. Why? There had to be an explanation.

  "Is there someone else?" she whispered. As upset as she was, she didn't want to make a scene. But anger rose with every word coming out of Logan's mouth.

  "Uh... no,” he said, looking away. He picked up his fork and finally ventured a bite of his crêpe.

  She knew him too well. She knew he was lying. Her voice rose when she scoffed, "You're lying."

  He couldn't even look up at her when he confessed. "I'm sorry... yes, there's someone else," he admitted. "But it's not about her."

  "Hell, it's not about her," she snapped. "What a bunch of crock."

  "Who is she?" she asked, the possible culprits dancing around in her head. She couldn't pin one down. Logan had always been kind of stand-offish with women, only having eyes for her. Or so it seemed. Perhaps a woman from work?

  "It doesn't matter," he said, finally looking up at her, his big brown eyes begging for her forgiveness. "Does it?"

  "Hell, it does," she hissed. "The least you owe me right now is to give me the decency to tell me who it is."

  He tilted his head, averting his gaze. He clearly did not want to get into this. But he really had no choice at this point. "Lisa," he finally offered. "We met at the yoga center."

  Oh...

  It all made sense now, looking back. The change in his attitude had started just about then, when he had started doing yoga. She had gone once but hadn't really enjoyed it. She was a little too tense and wired to really get into it. She had actually been surprised when he seemed to enjoy it so, never missing a class. It didn't quite seem to fit. But now it was clear as day. What he was really enjoying was the view.

  "Someone in your class?”

  He bit his lip. "Actually... the instructor," he offered, the last word trailing like a lost thought.

  Hell, no.

  He might as well have punched her in the gut. A yoga instructor? She remembered the woman and her tall tanned body, easy smile, and perky ponytail. Kirsten couldn't have been more different than this yoga goddess, even if she tried. "The one with the navel piercing and butterfly tattoo on her shoulder?" She still couldn't believe it. She needed confirmation.

  Sheepish, he nodded.

  She looked down at her half-eaten crêpe. The whipped cream was melting slowly but still there. Plenty left... she desperately wanted to shove her plate in his face. But she had never been one to make a scene. She would hurt him with words instead.

  "I don't see it," she offered with a smirk. "You and her," she added with a constructed laugh. "You're so different... it'll never work. She'll be bored with you before the seasons change."

  He swallowed hard. "Don't be like this," he scoffed. "I love her. And I'm crazier about her than I've ever been about you."

  The words really hit her hard and as much as she was trying to retain her composure, she just couldn't any longer. Tears trailed to her cheeks, and she couldn't even look at him.

  "I'm sorry, Kirsten," he told her. "I didn't mean that."

  She grabbed her bag. "But you did," she cried. "I know you did."

  And with those words, she walked out of the crêperie, not quite steady on her sensible chunky-heeled Mary-Janes.

  As she waited for an elevator up to the suite she shared with her eccentric mother, she held her head high, trying to temper her emotions. She would absolutely not lose it in public. She stared at her blurry reflection in the stainless steel elevator doors, a well-put together woman with sensible black trousers, a pink sweater, brown hair in an up-do, and sleek hipster glasses.

  What the hell was wrong with him?

  I'm hot, damn it, she thought. Perhaps a little conservative, she amended, but some men like that. As she was scrutinizing her reflection, she spotted him creeping up behind her; the sleek designer suit, the sharp angles, the dirty blond hair.

  Damn, she really didn't need this right now.

  Ethan Fox. Seattle's most eligible bachelor. She didn't get it. Didn't get what the fuss was all about. Sure he was rich and gorgeous as sin, but he was such an arrogant wanker.

  Sure, she had had that hot dream about him, once or twice. In the steamy dream, he had her pressed against a huge billowy headboard and was doing sinful things to her. She was sure that was just her subconscious reacting to a serious shortage of sex. Lately, she and Logan hadn't been very close. And obviously her subconscious was not as discerning or intelligent as she was.

  He stood tall next to her. She didn't bother turning her head. After the day she had just had, she had absolutely no patience for the likes of him.

  "Hey shorty," he quipped.

  She sucked in a long breath, desperately trying to hold on to the anger threatening to burst out, in all kinds of directions. "Kirsten Beals," she said, the words clipped. "Like I've mentioned before... I have a name," she added, staring straight ahead at the people exiting the elevator.

  As they made their way in, he shot her a playful smile. "So you don't like ‘shorty,’" he observed. "I know you might be a little self-conscious about your height, so I get it," he teased, dimples stretching across his five o’clock shadow. "I apologize. I've been insensitive. So what should I call you?"

  "How about Kirsten," she offered again. "Kirsten Beals."

  He smiled wide. He seemed bent on getting to her. Boy, had he picked the wrong day. He gazed up at the elevator ceiling, his tall frame leaning comfortably against the wall. "How' bout 'butterfly'?"

  She glared at him. Oh please... she thought as visions of Lisa, the yoga instructor, clouded her brain. More specifically, the butterfly tattoo on Lisa’s shoulder. Ugh…

  Her eyes practically rolled back into her head. She had to suck in another breath to keep from literally strangling him. "How about you just never address me at all," she suggested. "Like ever."

  He jerked his head to the side, a quick move she had noticed before which she found both charming and annoying. "Okay, so you don't like ‘butterfly,’" he conceded as they exited the elevator. Unfortunately, since he lived in the corner suite next to her mother's, she was stuck with him until she reached her door. So of course, she practically sprinted, walked as fast as her heels would allow.

  "How 'bout 'dragonfly'?" he suggested, nipping at her heels. "I think that might suit you better."

  As she reached her door and he made his way to his, he shot her a wink with that annoying twinkle in his baby blues. "Yep, that works...," he teased. "You're not a butterfly, you're a feisty little dragon."

  She bit her lip. "Bye, Ethan."

  A feisty little dragon?

  She felt more like a pathetic tiny quivering mouse.

  She slammed the door as she made her way inside. Her mother peeked o
ut of the kitchen, an apple in her hand. If Lorraine was ever in the kitchen, it wasn't to cook. She was a modern day diva. And divas don't cook. Divas sustain themselves on fancy restaurants and their daughter's cooking, as was the case with Lorraine.

  As soon as she saw her mother's face, Kirsten let the tears flow and lunged into Lorraine's arms. Lorraine held her tightly. Kirsten was so happy to have her mother. This wasn't just a scrape on the knee. It was much worse. As dramatic as Lorraine could often be, she really did love her daughter. Kirsten felt this love every day of her life. And she wanted this with her own daughter one day. She sobbed even harder when she realized this might not ever happen. The possibility of marriage, a white picket fence and babies seemed highly unlikely now.

  Lorraine stroked her daughter's hair. "What happened?"

  Gulping for air through thick sobs, Kirsten could barely answer her. "Lo-Logan..." she started, "he... he broke up with me."

  Lorraine pulled away swiftly. "What?!" She gazed into her daughter's eyes. She didn't understand. It was incomprehensible.

  Kirsten bit her bottom lip, not wanting to say the words. "He met someone else."

  Lorraine's eyes grew wide. As a bestselling romance author, Lorraine usually had a way with words, but right then, she was at a complete loss for them. She had no idea what to say to her precious daughter. She just couldn't quite process the thought of Logan doing this. The boy seemed so sweet. How could he do this to Kirsten?