ALL IN (7-Stud Club Book 1)

by Christie Ridgway

  Her resolve faltered, but then she thought of those intrepid kittens, not put off by all that muscle and the occasional scowl. They’d sensed his deep inner kindness and profound capacity for caring.

  Yes, Gemma had to lead with hope.

  She rose from the sofa on shaky legs but with a new determination.

  Instead of fear, to move forward with love.

  * * *

  Boone faced the small crowd, breathing deeply as the last of the guests took their seats. Hart sat front and center, his parents flanking him. There was one empty chair in the first row, at the very end. The unoccupied space called to him, because it was reserved for his own ass once his part was done.

  But he reminded himself not to rush.

  Everyone needed this. Today’s event signaled the beginning of the beginning.

  The start of the processing—however long that might take for each individual—of what had happened. The loss.

  The air tasted of ocean and he thought again of how he’d been avoiding the water and the beach since they’d heard the news. But today he let the salty flavor linger in his mouth. It tasted like tears and now was the time for them.

  At the back of the rows, one of the twins caught his eye and nodded to him, his signal to begin.

  His throat tried closing shut, but he cleared it, and without pause moved closer to the microphone wired to the podium and flipped it on. The soft instrumental music playing through the outdoor speakers faded away and he let the last note linger for a moment.

  “Good afternoon,” he finally said. “Hart and his family have asked me to extend their welcome to you here today.” A few more introductory remarks rolled off his tongue easily enough, and he outlined the ceremony’s short agenda. The retired pastor from the Sawyers’ church would take his turn after Boone and then the formal part of the celebration of life would be concluded with some thoughts shared by Hart’s father.

  “If you’d indulge me just a moment more,” Boone said, and hauled in another long breath. He tried not recalling that the stint at public speaking he was supposed to be prepared for was at Kim and her new husband’s wedding, as best man. Looking over at Hart, whose face seemed molded from ice, he tried communicating he was still that, always would be that for his friend.

  Shit. Why was this so damn hard?

  He remembered the poker night weeks ago, when the guys had hassled him about having a date for the wedding, a woman by his side, and now he could acknowledge that it sure as hell might make this moment easier.

  If that woman was Gemma.

  His gaze swept the crowd again, and then snagged on his empty chair.

  Which wasn’t empty. Because she was there, Gemma was there, sitting serene and incomparably beautiful, her expression open, her eyes the blue of belief, her focus on him.

  On yet another deep breath, he took strength from that and directed his gaze forward once more.

  “Love is not kind,” he said. “Love is not kind if that implies gentleness and surety and fairhandedness. Because we all know that every loving couple faces trials and tests and unfairness in the extreme. Unfairness beyond measure and what can seem at times to be beyond bearing. And yet…”

  He took a quick glance at Gemma, noting she had an old-fashioned handkerchief in hand, and of course she did, which gave him the further fortitude to plunge on.

  “And yet people love, as Hart and Kim loved, and through that gained what I think is a glimpse of heaven.”

  His gaze swept the crowd. “A glimpse of heaven,” he repeated slowly. “She’s there now, however you might think of it. Floating on a cloud, perhaps, or soaking in all the knowledge in the universe. For myself, I believe she’s in the sun shining its rays upon us today and especially upon Hart, who I hope will be warmed by them as I know he will always be warmed by the memories of what he and Kim shared and that miracle of trust they bestowed upon each other.”

  Somehow Boone ended the speech he’d been writing in his head for days, and as the pastor took his place at the podium, made his way toward the chairs. The one beside Gemma was open, Eli slipping out of it as he approached. Her hand found Boone’s as he lowered himself to the seat.

  He took hold, not allowing himself to think of what that meant or why she was here, as the pastor and Hart’s dad did their thing. Then the talking of that sort was over and the crowd began leaving their seats for the food and beverages waiting on nearby tables.

  The soft music came on again, but Boone didn’t move and neither did Gemma. He let go of her hand to stand when Hart’s father held out his for shaking. Then Hart’s mother cried on Boone’s shoulder for a moment. Hart himself drew his mother away and into her sister’s arms. Then the two friends stared at each other.

  “Fuck,” Boone said, trying to express how he felt about the situation.

  A ghost of a smile quirked his best friend’s mouth. “You were much more eloquent up at the podium.”

  “If one single person gives me shit at the next poker night—”

  “Nah,” Hart said, grabbing him for another Attack of the Grizzlies-embrace. “Thanks.”

  Then he was gone and it was Boone and Gemma, with the rest of the guests seeming to be a world away. Squaring his shoulders, he sat again and half turned to her.

  She reached up, surprising him by dabbing under his eye with her scrap of white-and-lace fabric. For a moment he thought about protesting, but if she wanted to think he’d squeezed out a tear or two…it didn’t matter.

  Her hand dropped to her lap. “That was lovely, what you said.”

  “I hope I didn’t go on too long.”

  She looked down. “It was perfect.” Then her head lifted and her gaze met his. “Why’d you come by the shop today?”

  “I think…” He shrugged, deciding he could find an excuse but the truth was easier. “I didn’t want to go another day without seeing you.”

  “Oh.” Her face flushed the pink of dawn.

  With a knuckle, he traced a line from the corner of one eye to the corner of her mouth. “Why are you here?”

  “I hope it’s okay I kind of crashed, but—”

  He pressed that knuckle against the center of her lips. “Why are you here?”

  “As a backstop?” she said, taking his hand.

  Smiling, because he couldn’t not, he glanced down at their entwined fingers. “Side stop,” he said, and then pressed a kiss to her temple.

  “Is that a sports word?” she asked. “I’m trying to get educated now that I have a guy friend.”

  “It means you’re the woman by my side.”

  Gemma leaned into his shoulder. “That sounds fine to me.”

  But he thought he’d better clarify. Hart said this next step didn’t require any special training, and Boone wanted to believe him. He needed to believe he could have more than he’d ever expected of life, of himself. “Gemma, I don’t want to be your friend.”

  She straightened, eyes wary as she looked up at him. “No?”

  Taking in a breath, he let go of the fears he’d had since four years old and the old limits he’d placed on himself. Future husband and future father? Why the hell not? If that’s what he aimed for…then he’d figure out how to make that happen. He’d take that risk if it meant he’d have a chance—for it all—with this woman. She meant too much to him not to make the gamble.

  He stared into Gemma’s eyes, a new certainty in his heart. “I’m in love with you, and there’s nothing I can do about that but want you…and want you to be happy with me as your lover. I’m dedicated to that, and I’m not walking away unless you tell me I must.”

  A moment’s pause, then a little sparkle brightened her eyes. “Been fighting yourself on that, have you?”

  He allowed himself a small grin at the teasing tone of her voice and the new gladness in her gaze. This boded well. “I’m guessing fighting about as much as one Gemma Jean Marquette?”

  She frowned. “How did you learn my middle name?”

  “Stop s
talling,” he ordered, trying on his meanest expression. “It’s your turn.”

  Her pout entranced him. “Fine. You don’t have to try and scare me into a confession. I’m in love with you, too.”

  Thrilled she trusted him with that, the vise that had been wrapped around his chest released. Closing his eyes, he reveled in the freedom to truly draw in air. Then, turning serious again, he caught her face in one hand and stared into her eyes. “I knew from the first time I saw you. It wasn’t about me not being sure that you are who I want. It was me thinking I might let you down somehow. I’m no expert at this.”

  “I’m not either, and you know I’ve had my issues too,” she said. “But I’m also not walking away. And if there’s anyone I’m willing to muddle through this new state of being with, it’s you.”

  As declarations went, Boone knew how momentous this one was for careful Gemma, with her orderly, decorated in pretty and scented with perfume, world. He pressed his forehead to hers. How he loved her.

  Then another thought struck. “Speaking of muddling…” Straightening, he grimaced and glanced around. “Declaring ourselves at what amounts to a funeral might not be the most recommended setting for romance.”

  Gemma looked up at the sky, the sunshine washing over her face and revealing faint freckles on her nose that always surprised and charmed him. Give him a spare moment and he’d count every single one. Yes, he thought, suddenly awestruck by her beauty, definitely being with the one you loved gave a man a glimpse of heaven.

  “I don’t care about what’s recommended,” she stated, with clear resolve. “It feels right to me.”

  Boone directed a smile at the cloudless blue above and then pressed his mouth to the side of his lover’s hair, drawing his lips down to press an intimate kiss to the sweet-smelling skin of her neck. “Then I’m content,” he said, sure that anyone could see that truth on his face.

  “I’m abso happy,” Gemma replied, “to steal a phrase from May.”

  “By all means, let’s.” He drew Gemma into his arms and thought he’d be going all in at the next poker night, because with this woman by his side there would be no losing, regardless what the cards read. “Let’s both be abso fucking happy.”

  # # #

  Dear Reader:

  Thank you! I hope you enjoyed ALL IN, the first book in the 7-Stud Club series. I was at a writers’ retreat when I mused to my friends, “I want a very guy-centric idea for a new series.” One said, “Well, there’s poker night, and—” Before she could say any more I shouted out, “Seven stud club!” Seriously. That fast. I think it means the series was meant to be.

  And I loved writing Boone and Gemma’s story. I love a big, quiet man with a heart of gold, don’t you? Interested in sharing your thoughts about Boone and Gemma’s romance with other readers? I hope you’ll leave a review here and look for more of my books to enjoy.

  To not miss out on new Christie Ridgway releases and to get other information about upcoming books and specials, sign up for my newsletter. You can also follow me on Facebook, Twitter, or visit my website.

  Next up is Eli’s story! If you haven’t guessed, he’s going to find himself taking a first, second, and third look at Sloane Clarke, the single mother who is everything he does not want (or so he says…). You can pre-order it here.

  I’ve also included an excerpt from OUR LAST FIRST KISS (Heartbreak Hotel Book 1)—another one of my sunny, sexy romances.

  All the best!

  Christie Ridgway

  Excerpt – OUR LAST FIRST KISS

  Heartbreak Hotel Book 1

  © Copyright 2018 Christie Ridgway

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Chapter One

  “Maybe we should check into a nunnery instead,” Lilly Durand murmured, taking in the tropical-hued walls, lush greenery, and colorful Moorish-tiled floor of the resort’s indoor/outdoor reception area. Where nuns are dressed in somber black and speak in papery whispers to match our bleak moods.

  “What’s that?” her best friend Audra Montgomery asked dully, her gaze vague. She seemed unaware of their surroundings as her fingers plucked idly at the hem of the yoga hoodie half-covering the white lace of the wedding dress she wore. The edges of its short train already appeared tattered.

  Lilly placed her fingertips at her temples and contemplated the short check-in line for the famed Santa Barbara hotel, The Hathaway at Dragonfly Beach. Rather than taking her place behind other would-be guests, she continued to hesitate, now yanking on the sleeves of the sweatshirt she wore over her silk organza maid-of-honor gown. Pretty sequined shoes pinched her toes and she decided perhaps one good thing had come out of this disaster—there wasn’t a night of dancing ahead of her in the misery-making heels.

  Suddenly, a frisson of awareness feathered down her spine. Her back shot straight and then a wash of heat cascaded over her flesh, prickling all the tiny hairs. It was an unwelcome sensation she’d become familiar with over the past few days, but surely there wasn’t the same cause of it. Not now. Not here.

  Pulse tripping, she took a cautious glance around the lobby. Through an archway she could see an elegant lagoon-styled pool in the distance, surrounded by lounge chairs and gently waving palm trees. Over her other shoulder, she caught a glimpse of a courtyard with tables and chairs surrounding a bubbling fountain. Visitors dressed in expensive resort-wear. Employees in starched white shirts and dark slacks bustling about. No tall, athletic figure lurked nearby, upsetting her equilibrium with his confident charm and roguish grin.

  Another positive outcome of the disaster, she thought, briskly rubbing her arms to dissipate the goose bumps that invariably followed that rush of heat—she’d put distance between herself and that man.

  The assertion didn’t ease the sense of foreboding that seemed to hover over her, though. Lilly decided to chalk it up to the emotional rollercoaster they’d been through that day, but it didn’t stop her from taking an additional wary look about. Across the space, in a huge mirror in an ornately carved frame on the opposite side of the room, she saw her and Audra’s reflections. Even with her face paler than usual, the other woman’s delicate beauty was undeniable. Her champagne-blonde up-do and the pale blue of her eyes gave her the look of a graceful flower in a meticulously planned and very well-tended garden—an iris, perhaps.

  On the other hand, Lilly, with her unruly dark hair, blue-black eyes, and pink-cheeked complexion was the brash, stubborn weed that managed to grow between the cracks in a neglected sidewalk.

  Despite their contrasting appearances—and all their other differences—they’d been fast friends since their first week in college. Audra was soft-spoken, generous, and prone to seeing the very best in people. Lilly talked fast, trusted few, and expected little from her fellow man. But Audra and the entire Montgomery family had always been exceptionally kind and welcoming to Lilly and in return she had given them her undying loyalty.

  Which is why she’d do whatever she could to take this bad situation and make it better.

  As if she had any certain idea on how to go about that successfully.

  Taking a deliberate deep breath, she linked her arm with Audra’s. The idea of spending some recovery time at this resort had come to Lilly in the aftermath of the disaster. Audra’s dad had opined it an excellent idea and instantly offered up his credit card. The shattered expressions on the faces of both parents of the bride had underscored that they were as devastated as their daughter.

  Audra’s mother hadn’t been able to stop crying and Mr. Montgomery declared he was going to take a cue from Lilly and go ahead with his and his wife’s already planned R & R trip to London for two weeks—as long as Lilly felt capable of supporting Audra on her own.

  Knowing that hovering and noticeably upset parents would only make her friend more distraught, Lilly had promised she could handle it…and hoped like hell she wouldn’t make a liar of herself.

  “Let’s go,” Lilly urged Audra now, stepping toward the check-in line.

 
The other woman didn’t move.

  Turning to her, Lilly swallowed hard. There was so much pain in Audra’s eyes. “What is it, Audie?”

  “Jacob,” she said in a near-whisper. “Maybe I should go back to the beach. Maybe he’ll show up there after all.”

  The beach. Where there had been a beautiful rustic arbor decorated in seashells, ribbons, and draped with blue flowers just waiting for a pair of people to promise themselves to each other for a lifetime. White chairs for seventy-five guests. A string quartet preparing to accompany the sound of the surf as the bride walked down the sandy aisle.

  “Jacob,” Lilly said, trying to control her rising rage at the thought of the jerk, “is not going to show up at the beach.”

  “He might,” Audra insisted. “When he can’t reach me on my phone.”

  Oops. That would be the phone that Lilly had hurled into the ocean after her best friend had showed her the text the groom had sent calling off the wedding. Just another of Lilly’s faults—a fiery temper, thanks to her French ancestors, she supposed. Her good arm was due to two years playing left field on the dorm softball team.

  “Come on,” Lilly urged again, forcing her friend forward. “We’re going to check into this lovely resort, strip out of these fancy clothes and pinching shoes, and get comfortable.” As she grabbed the handle of one suitcase and pushed another forward with her foot, she hoped like heck that Audra had packed something more than a bunch of bikinis and bridal lingerie—she and Jacob had been planning on leaving for their honeymoon in Tahiti the next day. According to the loathsome, cowardly text he’d sent, he’d exchanged his ticket for one on a flight that left that very afternoon.

  “Are you sure staying here is the right thing to do?” Audra appealed to Lilly again, looking lost and nothing like the capable PR executive she was for her father’s company in Los Angeles.