by Elise Faber
He laughed and kissed her gently, putting every bit of emotion and love into the contact, knowing that he was the luckiest man on the planet to somehow have found his way back into Kels’s life.
“You do a lot of nude shoots, huh?” she asked as she pulled back.
“I’m going to kill Tom.”
But he didn’t get a chance because right then the police showed up.
Nineteen
Kelsey, Three Months Later
She was waiting on the beach, toes in the sand, as Tanner picked his way through some tide pools several hundred feet away when suddenly he straightened and gestured for her to come and come quick.
Heart skipping a beat, she jumped to her feet and ran over.
Was there something wrong? Or was there something really cool?
She couldn’t tell from his expression.
But then she got close enough to see and immediately relaxed. Not wrong, something in the cool column.
“Look,” he murmured, dropping his lens and pointing slowly to the small pool of water.
“Oh.” Her breath caught as the cutest little hermit crab poked his head out of his shell. Long spindly legs, a pair of tiny eyes, and good lord, adorable little skittering as it made its way across the rocky bottom.
“He’s so cute.”
A tug of her ponytail. “How sexist to presume it’s a boy crab.”
Since he was right, she chose not to acknowledge him.
“Either way, it is cute. But I wasn’t calling you over for that.”
“Okaay.” Her heart skipped another beat, and she fought the urge to bite her bottom lip. She’d been thinking a proposal was coming. Okay, well she’d snooped and found a ring, but it wasn’t her fault he’d hid it in his T-shirt drawer. She liked to wear his shirts to sleep in. Still, with the waves crashing and the sun setting behind them, this would be the absolute perfect place for a proposal.
Tan pointed down again. “I think he or she is the answer to your delivery problem. Look how it maneuvers easily across the uneven surface.”
Disappointment slid through her even as she watched the crab move and processed what he was saying. “Holy shit, Tan. You’re right! If I could get engineering to model the legs after something more like this, we could study the movement and build in some of the better adaptations. This could really help—”
She glanced over, but he wasn’t crouched next to her anymore. And when she spun to find him, her breath stuttered to a stop in her lungs, she found him down on one knee, camera in one hand, a ring in the other.
“Tanner?”
He lifted the camera, and she heard the click of the shutter. “Baby,” he murmured, letting it hang from the strap around his neck, and reaching for her hand. “I love you more than life. I know that we’re new and all, but will you—”
“Yes!”
Cue her impulsivity ruining whatever speech he had planned. But Kelsey didn’t need it. She knew he loved her, knew they were meant to spend the rest of their lives together. She didn’t need more words.
She just needed Tanner.
He grinned, nonplussed that she’d probably ruined a moment he’d been planning for a while, and slipped the ring on her finger. Then they were both on their feet and his mouth was on hers, the camera pressed between them.
Before she could adjust it, a wave slammed into them—well, mostly into Tanner’s back—and later, when she saw the pictures, Kels was thrilled the precious piece of equipment had been safely stowed between them.
Her hair over one shoulder as she’d studied the crab.
Her surprised face when she’d seen him on one knee.
The love in her eyes when she’d said his name.
He’d captured them all.
Just as easily as he’d captured her eight-year-old heart with a Band-Aid and an ice pack.
Just as surely as he held her heart now.
And Kels knew she’d never want it any other way.
Epilogue
Trix
She watched her friend, Tanner, kiss his fiancée again, then checked her watch, wondering two things.
First, why she’d come back to California in the first place.
And second, what the hell kind of drugs she’d been on when agreeing to this date in the first place.
The only good thing about it was that she had buffers. Tanner and his fiancée. Heather, her half-sister and the only decent member of her family, along with Heather’s husband, Clay, who was pretty to look at and not too annoying. For a man.
Probably not the best attitude to have going into a blind date, but she’d shown up, hadn’t she?
Anyway, the dinner had also meant she’d been able to see Tanner. She’d met the photographer in sub-Saharan Africa almost five years before while she’d been working and he’d been documenting the health crisis for the Red Cross. They’d kept in touch, and he’d invited her to his wedding. It had been a surprise to both of them that they each knew Heather.
But that was the way the O’Keiths worked.
Invading their way into everyone’s lives.
Even if they didn’t want it.
Regardless, she was back in California for the time being, ready to begin a new chapter in her life.
Apparently, that meant starting by dating.
At least that was Heather logic.
Or maybe her own brand of stupid.
Whatever it was that had convinced her to come, she was there now and was going to make the best of it. Or at least that was her thought until she recognized who was approaching the table.
Him.
Trix slammed her eyes closed and counted to five.
It could not be him.
Could not—
She opened her eyes.
Clay was on his feet, shaking the man’s hand, shaking Jet’s hand, and making introductions all around. Heather looked thrilled, probably because Jet was gorgeous and funny and smart—
“And this is Heather’s sister, Trix. She’s a nurse.”
Jet knew that.
Because he knew her. Intimately.
The doctor and the nurse. So cliché. So stupid on her part to think that things in her life might have turned out differently.
He’d been smiling as he turned to meet her, and it was almost comical to see his expression darken to fury. Or it would have, if that fury hadn’t been directed at her. By then his hand was in hers, mid-shake and fuck if his touch didn’t still make sparks shoot down her arm.
She went to pull back, but he held fast then jerked her forward, as though he were giving her a hug in greeting.
No one at the table could see that he was hissing in her ear.
“What the fuck are you playing at, Trixie?”
She did some hissing of your own. “Nothing. I had no idea this date was you because I sure as hell wouldn’t have come,” she snapped, ignoring the way his scent coiled in her stomach, sending little tendrils of heat down between her thighs. “You’re the last person I’d want to see at this table. And that includes my parents or maybe even Hitler, you freaking asshole.”
“Trixie,” he began.
“Fuck off, Jet,” she said then pulled back and plunked into her chair, not about to ruin everyone’s night just because she couldn’t stand the man she’d been set up with.
She’d endure.
It was what she did.
Jet sat down next to her, and she tried to force herself not to look.
She didn’t succeed.
And what she saw on his face wasn’t fury, not any longer. It was confusion and hesitation.
Good. After what he’d done to her, she deserved a man treading around her with a bit of hesitation. She’d been hurt before—heartsick and sad, a few times even devastated—when her relationships had ended.
But Jet had broken her.
He was the one man she’d let in, who she’d shared her baggage and hopes, her pain and desires. Then he’d shown about as much care with her exposed and vulnerable hear
t as a physician tossing a soiled bandage onto the floor.
For a nurse to pick up.
Because that was all she’d ever been to him.
A convenient place to stash his dick before he’d tossed her aside, dirty and used, and she had to cobble herself together enough to throw away those pathetic hopes she’d been hanging on to.
“Trixie,” he murmured.
She smiled brightly and picked up the menu. “I’ve heard the prickly pear margaritas are delicious,” she announced to the table at large.
As she knew it would, that turned the conversation to Kelsey, who began bantering with the table at large, and pretty soon, the waiter came over to take their orders.
All through dinner, she managed to keep the conversation light, to keep her physical and verbal distance from Jet while still pretending to get to know him enough to satisfy the others at the table.
Her fatal flaw began when she slipped away to use the bathroom.
Because when she came out, Jet was standing in the hall.
Sniffing, she started to move past him.
His hand on her arm stilled her.
“What Jet?” she snapped. “What could you possibly have to say to me?”
A growl. “Nothing.”
“Good.”
“Everything.”
He kissed her, and the world went topsy turvy.
Bad Blind Date
Coming April 19th, 2020
Preorder Trix and Jet’s story here.
Billionaire’s Club
Did you miss any of the other Billionaire’s Club books? Check out excerpts from the series below or find the full series at www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07JVRRGCT
Bad Night Stand
Book One
www.books2read.com/BadNightStand
Abby
“I’m the best friend,” I said and lifted my chin, forcing my words to be matter-of-fact. I’d been through this before. “You might be fuckable to the nth degree and perfect for Seraphina, but I refuse to set her up with a liar.”
In a movement too quick for my brain to process, my stool was shoved to the side and I was pinned against the bar, heavy hips pressing into me, a hard chest two inches from my mouth.
Seraphina whipped around at the movement and I could just see her over Jordan’s shoulder, her blue eyes concerned.
“Hi, Seraphina, I’m Jordan,” he said, calm as can be, gaze locked onto my face then my eyes when mine invariably couldn’t stay away. “I’m going to borrow your friend for a minute.”
“Abs?” she asked, and I knew she’d go to bat for me right then and there if I needed her to.
“Weasel or no?” I managed to gasp out. For some reason, I couldn’t catch my breath.
Not that it had anything to do with Jordan.
No, it had everything to do with him.
“Weasel?” he asked.
I shook my head, focused on my best friend. Weasel was our code name for the men trying to weasel, quite literally, their way into my pants and then into hers.
I was just about ready to say fuck it—or me, rather—even if Jordan was a Weasel. He smelled amazing. His body was hard and hot against mine.
And it had been way too long since I’d had sex.
“No chemistry on my part—” Seraphina began.
“Your friend isn’t who I’m attracted to,” Jordan growled out. “You are, and it’s fucking pissing me off that you don’t believe that.”
Bad Breakup
Book Two
www.books2read.com/BadBreakup
CeCe
“You’re even more beautiful than I remember,” he said, and the rough edges of his accent hacked at the words, making them more of a growl rather than a soft sentiment.
Her breath caught, and she found her eyes drawn to the stormy blue of Colin’s.
And she stared again, utterly entranced before she remembered how it had all ended.
Her in a white dress.
Alone, except for the priest who’d given her a pitying look and invited her to stay as long as she needed.
But it had always been like this, Colin’s gruff words winning her over. They were unexpected from him—he was typically so reserved and taciturn. And that compliment, freely given as it was, chipped away at any defenses she managed to erect.
The problem was that his words weren’t always followed up by action. In fact, they were typically trailed by pain for her and fury for him.
The hurt of those memories—of Colin so angry, her so broken—helped shore up her resolve.
“Don’t say things like that,” she snapped and started to pop her earbuds back in. Her friends at home had filled her phone with a slew of romantic audiobooks and she decided that she much preferred fictional heroes at the moment.
At least if they broke their heroine’s heart, it was only once.
Colin had already broken hers twice.
She wasn’t looking for a round three.
—Get your copy at www.books2read.com/BadBreakup.
Bad Husband
Book Three
www.books2read.com/BadHusband
Heather
“I’m getting drunk,” he said, but allowed her to pull him inside the car so that her driver could shut the door behind them.
“You’re already drunk,” she said.
He stiffened. “More drunk.”
“Fine,” she said, half-worried he was going to launch himself from the sedan. She’d never seen Clay like this. Usually he was so cold and uncompromising, impenetrable even under the toughest of negotiations. He was . . . well, he was typically as Steele-like as his last name decreed.
She wrapped her arm through his in order to prevent any unplanned exits from the vehicle and gave the driver the name of her favorite bar. “If you really want to drink, let’s do it right.”
And then she’d drop him at his hotel.
Except it didn’t happen that way.
Yes, they hit the bar.
Yes, they drank.
Yes, they got plastered.
But then they woke up . . . or at least, Heather woke up.
Naked.
With a softly snoring Clay Steele passed out next to her in bed.
That wasn’t the worst part.
Because Heather woke up naked and with a softly snoring Clay Steele in her bed and she was wearing a giant diamond ring on her left hand.
Still not the worst part.
That came in the form of a slightly crumpled marriage certificate tucked under her right cheek.
And not the one on her face.
She pulled it from beneath her, a cold sweat breaking out on her body, dread in every nerve and cell.
She still wasn’t prepared for the horror she found.
The marriage license had been signed by . . . Heather O’Keith and Clay Steele.
Holy fuck, what had she done?
—Get your copy at www.books2read.com/BadHusband.
Bad Hookup
Book Four
www.books2read.com/BadHookup
Rachel
The man didn’t take the hint. He didn’t leave.
Why won’t he leave?
She dropped her chin to her chest.
“So,” he finally said after another lengthy—and silent—moment. “Gay, taken, or not interested?”
“Oh my God,” she moaned, one hand coming up to push her bangs off her forehead. “This is not happening.”
“I—” A beat then his voice was incredulous. “I know that moan.” Warm fingers grasped her wrist, tugged until she could see him in all his yumminess.
Her moment of weakness. Her hookup because she’d been feeling desperate and lonely and—
“It’s you,” he said softly.
Yes, it was her. Rachel, the good girl who didn’t sleep around, who certainly didn’t hook up with random strangers in a bar.
Rachel, who had hooked up with a stranger.
The sex had been damned good. Incredible, actually.
“I—” She tugged at her wrist. “I need to go.”
—Get your copy at books2read.com/BadHookup.
Bad Divorce
Book Five
www.books2read.com/BadDivorce
Bec
Bec really didn’t expect to see another person waiting for her when the doors opened with a soft ding and she stepped off.
But there was another person waiting just outside her front door.
A person she never expected to see again.
Luke Pearson.
Her ex-husband.
It was one-fucking-thirty in the morning, and her ex-husband was sitting on the floor outside her apartment.
Asleep.
Fuming, she marched over to him and kicked his shoe. Hard.
“Luke. Why in the ever loving fuck are you here?”
His lids peeled back and sleepy green eyes met hers. “Becky,” he murmured. “You’re gorgeous as always.” The drowsiness began to fade from his expression. “Did you just come from work?” He glanced down at his phone. “Do you know what time it is?”
“Of course I know what time it is—” Bec bit back the words. Fuck, but wasn’t this conversation an exact replica of the broken record one they’d had way too many times over the course of their relationship?
She crossed her arms. “Never mind that.” A glare that had withered balls much bigger than Luke’s “Why did you break into my apartment?”
He stood. “First, I didn’t break into your apartment. This is the hall. Second,” he hurried to say when she opened her mouth to argue semantics, “I didn’t break in. You used our anniversary as the code.”
