by Kelsey Green
“You’re amazing,” I said breathlessly. “So, I guess we will see each other more often then. You’ll still be here a lot of the time and me back in Chicago, but we’ll have more overlap now which is better than nothing, right?” The thought of leaving him remained sad, but seeing him occasionally would be far better than nothing at all.
He grinned, a devilish gleam in his eyes. “Well you know I could always use some more inspiration.”
“What do you have in mind?” I asked, my mind immediately dashing to the naughty things I still hadn’t done with his body.
“I believe Costa Rica is said to have the best coffee. Italy the best pasta. Japan the best sushi.” I had no idea where he was going but clearly not in the gutter with me. His voice grew deeper with each word, making me ponder if a dirty ending was still in store, though, despite the strange data he was spewing off.
Loving just hearing him speak, I patiently waited as he continued naming off destinations and their known cuisines. “We could travel anywhere of your choosing and I could create recipes based on the unique ingredients each place has to offer while you blog and post about the different foods and cultures. The best of both worlds.”
Reaching the end of his offer left me even more staggered than before. I was supposed to be the brains of our operation, but evidently Chef had yet again surprised me. Mapping out a crazy route that would truly be all our own. I wasn’t meant for a life in the woods and he wasn’t a city boy. But traveling together and exploring the wonders of this world surprisingly fit us both. The perfect proposal I couldn’t believe I hadn’t created.
“We might kill each other,” I joked, settling in his arms.
“I know, but there’s no better way I’d like to go.” He smiled, placing his lips on mine.
“Me either,” I whispered in between kisses.
Jackson Keating.
Jackson Keating was my chef.
Jackson Keating was the surprise I never saw coming.
Jackson Keating was the reason I now knew why true love and all that mushy crap was worth changing your life for.
We still needed to get to know each other, and I definitely wasn’t ready to admit I loved him, but in my gut, I knew that somehow, without me realizing, I’d found my Rudolph and damned if I wouldn’t be the first to admit how much that excited the hell out of me.
Would Love to Hear From You
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Other Works
Previous Related Romance Books:
The Renegade Bid (Ace & Cadence's Story)
Mutually Exclusive (Sasha & Trent's Story)
Additional Books:
Romance: The Art of Love (Hate to Love You Anthology)
Women's Fiction & Mystery: The Desert Never Tells
Poetry & Self-Help Journal: I Am King
Horror Romance: The Undead
The Renegade Bid
#BlackExcellence
Cadence Alexander was made for lave and luxury. Literally she came from #blackexcellence. Her upper class parents worked hard to ensure she never had to, but when she bids on the handsome and chiseled, Ace Kathan, at a neighborhood auction, she’s in for a rude awakening.
World traveler Ace Kathan is always down for a thrill. So when his G-Ma, Mama Peaches, asks him to explain his date he’s happy to explain an extravagant one. But what he has planned will be anything but elegant. Nothing like testing a girls resilience and adaptability by roughing it on his rugged million dollar estate.
Excerpt: The Renegade Bid
Chapter One:
Cadence
“Ouch! Stop tugging me!” Ivory urged as I pulled her toward the stage.
“Come on, he’s almost up,” I yelled over my shoulder, keeping my stride.
Ducking under these women’s flailing arms and dodging their writhing bodies was beginning to feel ridiculous. A random spectator would surely have thought we were at one of those one-day pop-up shops, instead of a respectable bachelor auction to save Southlake Park.
Ha! Who am I kidding? Respectable went out the window along with that cat fight over bachelor number ten. We were officially at a flash sale and men were the merchandise.
“Cadence, seriously! You have dragged me into sweaty armpits, thrust me into innocent bystanders, used me as a human shield against that horrid woman … and I’m not even going to mention that fiasco from ten minutes ago.” She closed her eyes tightly while slowly moving her head from side to side.
Stopping my pursuit, I turned to face her. “I know, Ri, I know,” I said, rubbing her arms as she continued to shake her head like she could shake out the memory. “We never have to discuss that again.”
“I blame you,” Ivory whimpered. Her voice had a slight demonic tone to it. If she hadn’t been my best friend since kindergarten, I would have sworn she was possessed. But I’d heard that tone before, and it meant two things. Firstly, she was serious, and if I smiled, laughed, snarked, or moved she would cut me. And secondly, I should watch my back the next couple days.
I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, my breath caught in my throat as I began to recall the ‘incident’ in question.
Leaning my forehead against hers, I joined in her gently head shake. She could have a point. Just the memory alone was starting to make me gag a little. “We’ll just put that in the lost years box, okay?”
She took a deep breath. As her head slowly shook from no into a yes, so did mine.
“Okay … now, let’s move it!” I yelled, returning to my forward stride while still clasping Ivory’s hand in mine. I heard what sounded like a grunt come from her direction but I was too focused to care. Ace Kathan was a mysterious enigma that every girl in Chicago wanted to understand. But extraordinary people were not easily figured out by ordinary bunches like everyone else. He needed a woman like me! Not to toot my own horn, because that’s just tacky … plus, there’s no need since everybody knows who I am and tends to do it for me.
“All right, ladies, next up is Bachelor #19 … Mr. Adrenaline Junkie himself.”
As the announcer continued to sing Ace Kathan’s many praises, my eyes drifted from her to the chiseled man accompanying her onstage. I’d seen him before, I mean obviously since every great men’s magazine in the country had published an article on him. His photos always exuded such confidence, mystic … and most of all, an unwavering sexiness.
“Damn, he’s even cuter than I remember.”
“What?” I barely heard Ri’s question over my own thoughts.
“Oh, you heard that?” I smiled bashfully. “Thought I said that in my head.”
Shooting her my infamous 5th grader photo-day look, I refocused on my prize. Bidding had already begun and the vultures were looming.
“$200!” a woman wearing a pink scarf with a red bag screamed. Followed quickly by another bid and another.
“I know. That scarf and bag combo are tragic,” Ivory whispered in my ear. I let out a brief chuckle before shaking my head. “Oh I know you noticed!”
Yeah, I did, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as the woman in the corner matching her shoes to her lipstick. I mean royal purple, really? I shook the thought from my head.
“And I heard that, too,” Ivory giggled.
“I didn’t say anything,” I murmured, glancing at her.
“Purple?” she questioned with a sly smirk on her lips. “And you say I’m the mean one.”
Ugh, that’s so creepy! I hated it when she read my mind.
“You don’t know that’s what I was thinking,” I replied. “And you’re petty, not mean,” I continued, matching her smile. The bid was already up to $500. Not surprising given the reason for this charity bachelor auction. Mama Peaches, the organizer of this whole shin dig, certainly had a way of inspiring people … and their checkbooks. Plus, Southlake Park was an important part
of Chicago that needed preserving. The rundown buildings and community were never going to survive in this thriving city without some major endowments and help. Just the sort of thing my family was known for supporting.
“$6,000!” I screamed much louder than intended. The auction immediately came to a screeching and silent halt. Did I just say $600 … or $6,000?
“Um, bestie … I know we like to make an entrance,” Ivory whispered, “but six grand?” She lightly cleared her throat for emphasis, “are you crazy?”
Guess that answers that question. My eyes grew bigger with each passing second.
“They’re all staring,” Ivory stated glancing around the room.
“Mhmm. Yep, I can see that.”
“They’re making me feel dirty.” Ivory’s voice had gotten slightly louder than before. She began rubbing her left arm, while repeating the words ‘very dirty’ a few more times.
“Stop it. Stop it!” I urged, returning to a whisper, despite the realization that you could hear a pin drop in the room right now … meaning they were hearing everything we were saying.
I could literally feel my body temperature rising, under the intense gaze of the crowd. However, unbeknownst to her, Ivory was quickly pulling their unwanted attention. “Make them stop!”
I wanted to make them stop, but I was paralyzed under the glare of one single pair of eyes. Ace Kathan. His piercing, light brown eyes kept me frozen in place. He was a hard man to read. But boy, did every girl want to try. Unlike his brother, Kadaris, who was a staple here in Chicago, Ace had left over a decade ago. He was an extremely successful businessman who turned his love of traveling into a multimillion dollar enterprise. Couldn’t say much else was known about him though, besides the unique way he made his fortune.
“Well, I guess you won!” Ivory smiled awkwardly, still rubbing her arms despite nothing being on them.
The sound of the gavel assured me she was correct. More than I’d planned on spending, but I had won my prize, and if my sources were correct, I was in for the most luxurious and lavish date imaginable with one of the world’s most eligible bachelors.
Mutually Exclusive
Feisty tomboy, Sasha Allen, is blunt, bold, and knowledgeable about everything outdoors. Given her job with Kathan’s Sporting Goods - and her new comfort equipment line, CS Lave and Luxury - Sasha is building a reputable career around everything she loves. However, when walking complication, Trent Hansworth, becomes entangled in more than her business, she must determine whether work and play are as mutually exclusive as she always thought.
For sexy ladies man, Trent Hansworth, actions always speak louder than words. Therefore, it’s no surprise that the honest and lively, Sasha Allen, caught his eye from the moment he began working at the children’s camp. Like we learned in kindergarten, boys tease the girls they like the most. His reaction to her presence might read as childish and casual at times, however, his thoughts are anything but.
As long as Sasha can handle a joke or two, they have nothing to worry about. Yet, when things go from fun and games, to intensely passionate filled with stolen kisses, suddenly, things aren’t so funny anymore.
Excerpt: Mutually Exclusive
Chapter One:
Sasha
Damn. No man should look that good in a speedo. Especially a man as frustrating as him.
He was everything I knew I never wanted. Spoiled. Entitled.
The type of man who got attention before women heard his last name, and received even more attention after the fact. The type of man who reveled in his conquests and made no apologies for his bad behavior. The world hadn’t known dark chocolate men could be pretty boys until Trent Hansworth. The man with the inch-deep dimples, perfectly tapered haircut, and panty dripping smile, with a trust fund to match.
I may have avoided him for the last two years, knowing that business and pleasure never work, but that didn’t mean I was blind. The man had an eight-pack for goodness sake—looking was encouraged, especially since we were in Chicago, miles away from our home in upstate New York.
Thank you Chi-Flavor Afro-Caribbean Carnivale for awarding my first sporting line—CS Lave and Luxury—with the pleasure of providing your VIP tents, activities, and living spaces. And thank you, unreliable male Jell-O wrestler, for backing out of today’s events at the last second and thereby allowing my eyes to trace Trent’s flexed biceps and incredibly defined calf muscles. Perhaps I’d truly never looked at him before, or maybe it was the magic of the event, either way there was no denying that Trent Hansworth was any woman’s version of sexy.
“I’m sorry, honey, but I think you’re drooling a little bit,” a voice said, interrupting my thoughts. “I would wipe it off for you, but you know I don’t touch bodily fluids.”
“First off, no I’m not,” I replied to an overly bougie Ivory as she approached. “And secondly, he’s not my type.”
“Girl, don’t even front. Every girl in this tent is salivating right now. Are you seriously not the least bit interested in taking a bite from that?”
My eyes followed her direction, tracing Trent’s toned abs as she continued to badger me about my lewd yet annoying coworker.
“I know you can’t keep it in your pants, but some of us have more control than that. Trent is everything I don’t want in a man.”
“What? Sexy and noteworthy with a pedigree to match?” Ivory asked rhetorically.
“We both know that shallow list is more your speed than mine.”
“Alright, that’s harsh. But I know you’re used to dealing with just men, so I’m going to try and not take that too personally.” She handed me the second glass of champagne she’d been holding. Not my drink of choice but unsurprising for Ivory.
I shrugged, handing off the drink she’d given me to a nearby waiter. “Sorry, but I’m on the clock.”
“Okay, clearly Cadence and I have still taught you nothing,” she yelped. “We do not waste top shelf alcohol during a music festival. It’s literally in the constitution.” Her free hand flailed as she spoke, silencing my rebuttal that she clearly didn’t understand what the word literally meant. “And your job is running these cute VIP tents, areas, and activities, so helloooooo. We’re standing in the tent and these men are wrestling in Jell-O in front of this epic crowd. We call that a job well done, time to enjoy your success.”
I shook my head, knowing how futile it would be to disagree with Ivory. Her personality was authentically that of a rich, bougie gay man, stuck in a hot woman’s body. The first day I met her she insisted on giving me a makeover, and although I vetoed the high heels, dresses, and makeup, I had to admit it was fun having my first ever girl’s day at the age of twenty-nine.
My life had always been full of men. If three brothers and a single dad weren’t enough, I found myself thrust into the world of sporting goods, solidifying my reputation as a forever tomboy. Before Cadence, and her childhood bestie, Ivory, came into my life, I was wearing reading glasses all day long and had never stepped foot inside a salon. But now they were two of my closest friends. Not to mention, Cadence was the other half of CS Lave and Luxury, the outdoor comfort line that combined her lavish nature and knowledge of all things extra, with my boldness and outdoor expertise. We proved the perfect combination.
“So, remind me, what’s your issue with him again?” Ivory gestured toward Trent, who was predictably dominating the wrestling match.
“We have never gotten along. He seems to take pride in making my life harder.”
“Are you sure about that?”
I took another look in his direction as the referee declared him the winner. “The past couple years, yes he was the epitome of a spoiled toddler, however given that he stepped in and did the wrestling match without complaining, thereby saving my ass, then I’d say our hurricane has reduced to a mellowing cold front.”
“You’re talking in metaphors,” Ivory sipped her champagne, “which can only mean you like him, like him.”
“What are we twel
ve?” I rebutted. Ivory and I were both thirty-one, not that you could tell by our often juvenile back and forth.
Trent whom was thirty-three years old, far older than the young wrestler he just beat, or the child he often acted like, was accepting his trophy as I turned to better address Ivory. “I do not like him, like him,” I emphasized. “Like I’ve said, he’s the type of man you would date, not me.”
“See when you say it like that, and with that tone, it sounds like an insult.”
“That did sound like an insult,” a husky voice interjected from behind.
Dammit. Dammit. Dammit. I turned to find Trent’s light brown eyes peering down at me.
“See, he agrees,” Ivory continued, looking pleased with herself.
“Thanks, girl, I heard him.”
“Hello, I’m the man she doesn’t like, who also goes by Trent.” He extended his hand toward Ivory.
“Hi, I’m Ivory, and don’t take it personally. She doesn’t like anybody at first,” she responded, accepting his hand, before realizing it was still covered in red Jell-O from the match.
“She is standing right here, and she typically likes everyone,” I corrected.
“That’s actually true,” Ace cosigned, joining us. “Sash, when you get a moment, can you come find me?”
I nodded as he congratulated Trent on a job well done and threw Ivory a quick hug before retreating back outside.
