A steamy standalone romance featuring a swoon-worthy single dad and the one woman he absolutely shouldn’t fall in love with.
Copyright 2018 Autumn Jones Lake
All Rights Reserved
[email protected]
ABOUT WARNINGS & WILDFIRES
By Autumn Jones Lake
Sullivan
It’s a hot summer morning and I’m already running late.
I’m no one’s white knight, but when I see a damsel in distress, I have to rescue her.
I didn’t know it would be Aubrey Dorado, the girl I swore was off-limits.
Now she’s under my skin and I can’t get her off my mind.
So, I did the worst thing possible and hired her to work in my gym.
Lusting after my new employee breaks my number one rule.
But each day she tempts me with her sweet personality and clever mind.
I’ve been burned by love before.
Romance is a risk I can’t afford.
But how much longer can I resist the attraction simmering between us?
Aubrey
I don’t walk my neighbor’s dog often, but when I do, of course, he knocks me off my feet.
Even better? The one to come to my rescue has to be my swoon-worthy self-defense teacher, Sullivan “Sully” Wallace.
I’m so broke that when he offers me a job, I jump at it.
Now I’m spending way too much time with my untouchable crush.
Worse, he makes it clear he has no romantic interest in me.
And just when I think he’s changed his mind, the biggest mistake of my life returns to ruin everything.
COPYRIGHT
Warnings & Wildfires
by Autumn Jones Lake
Copyright 2018 – All Rights Reserved.
Google Play Edition
Digital ISBN: 978-1-943950-28-7
Print ISBN: 978-1-943950-29-4
Edited by: Ellie McLove
Photographer: Wander Aguiar Photography
Cover Design by RBA Designs | Letitia Hasser
Cover Model: Travis S.
No part of Warnings & Wildfires, may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photography, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written consent of the publisher and author, except in the instance of quotes for reviews. No part of this book may be uploaded without the permission of the publisher and author, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is originally published. No part of this book may be translated into any other language without permission of the author.
Warnings and Wildfires is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, actual events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters and names are products of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
The publisher and author acknowledge the trademark status and trademark ownership of all trademarks, service marks and word marks mentioned in this book.
Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. The only places to legally download Autumn’s books are from online retailers.
This is an original work of fiction by Autumn Jones Lake. Published by Ahead of the Pack, LLC.
[email protected]
ALSO BY AUTUMN JONES LAKE
THE LOST KINGS MC SERIES
Full descriptions are at the end of the book.
Slow Burn (Lost Kings MC #1)
Corrupting Cinderella (Lost Kings MC #2)
Three Kings, One Night (Lost Kings MC #2.5)
Strength From Loyalty (Lost Kings MC #3)
Tattered on My Sleeve (Lost Kings MC #4)
White Heat (Lost Kings MC #5)
Between Embers (Lost Kings MC #5.5)
More Than Miles (Lost Kings MC #6)
White Knuckles (Lost Kings MC #7)
Beyond Reckless: Teller’s Story, Part One (Lost Kings MC #8)
Beyond Reason: Teller’s Story, Part Two (Lost Kings MC #9)
One Empire Night (Lost Kings MC #9.5)
After Burn (Lost Kings MC #10)
Zero Tolerance (Lost Kings MC #11)
White Lies (Lost Kings MC #12)
STAND-ALONES IN THE LOST KINGS MC WORLD
Bullets & Bonfires
Teller and Murphy both appear here.
Warnings & Wildfires
Wrath and Murphy both appear here.
NEWSLETTER
If you think you’d enjoy the occasional update from me, sign up for my newsletter.
SOCIAL MEDIA
Visit Autumn here:
www.autumnjoneslake.com
Facebook
Instagram
Pinterest
Twitter
Book & Main
Book Bub
Goodreads
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
It’s been…a year so far. I’d be lost without the continued support and encouragement from certain people.
First, thank you to my readers. Your love of my characters, continued support, and eagerness for each new book continues to amaze, humble, and inspire me.
Iza, thank you for your continuing friendship. I’m so happy we finally met this year!
Andrea, thank you for reading this early on and encouraging me to continue.
Liz, thank you for the final seal of approval.
Daniele, thank you for those last final catches!
Thank you to my crit partners for the valuable insight.
Thank you, Ellie for a smooth editing process.
My Lost Kings MC Ladies Facebook group, thank you so much for spending time in my world. Your questions and theories fuel me and your demand for the next book keeps me motivated. I’m so grateful that you’re willing to embrace a non-Lost Kings MC book. Thank you.
Mr. Lake—thank you for everything always.
DEDICATION
If you’re still punishing yourself for past mistakes, forgive yourself.
Let those mistakes guide you, not define you.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Cover
Title Page
About Warnings & Wildfires
Copyright Page
Also by Autumn Jones Lake
Acknowledgments
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Epilogue
Excerpt from Slow Burn
A Note from Autumn
Also by Autumn Jones Lake
CHAPTER ONE
Crappy coffee beats no coffee every morning.
If I don’t stop at the post office, I can still make it to the gym on time. It would be nice if I could count on my younger brother, Jake, to open Strike Back on Monday mornings, but let’s be honest, he’s most likely running later than I am.
I push open the coffee shop door into the thick August humidity. It’s not even nine a.m. and the freshly-paved village road in front of me is already shimmering with heat.
A yellow and black butterfly flutters in front of my face for a second before flying away. A brief reminder of why I’m rushing to work. Of what’s most important to me in this world.
I’m half-way to the curb where my Jeep’s parked when a tiny figure catches my eye.
A hooded sweatshirt covers her face, but something familiar about her body keeps my attention riveted on the woman jogging toward me. Tight leggings, curvy legs, wide hips, small stature.
You don’t have time for this. Stop being a creeper.
Even though I consider myself a dog person, the big white pit bull jogging at her side makes me think twice about approaching the woman. I open my door and set my coffee in the console cup holder. Before climbing in, I take one last glance at the jogger.
Several things happen at once. A squirrel darts into the road. The pit bull’s ears perk up and he lunges after the confused critter, yanking the jogger off the sidewalk. She trips and slams into the pavement, her palms striking asphalt with a hard slap. The dog continues charging after the squirrel, leash trailing behind him.
“Gambler, no!” the woman shouts, her voice choked with pain. She seems unaware of the sports car barreling toward her at exceeding-the-speed-limit miles an hour.
At the last minute the car jerks to the right, zipping by, missing her by inches.
A startled scream tears out of her throat. My gaze darts between the galloping dog and the girl in the road.
Help the girl or grab the dog?
“Please! Get him!” she shouts.
I’m already moving toward her, but I stop and force out a loud, piercing whistle. The dog stops and cocks his head. I repeat the whistle and he breaks into a run, stopping in front of me. His whip-like tail sweeps over the pavement in a quick, eager rhythm.
“Hey, boy. Are you friendly?” Casually, I lean over, pick up his leash, give it a gentle tug, and hurry over to help his owner.
“Are you okay?” I call out.
She tips her head up and the hood slides back, revealing her face.
Her beautiful face flushed from exercise or embarrassment. Big brown doll eyes, and pink, pouting lips.
Aubrey.
I knew I recognized those sexy legs.
Shy, but sweet, Aubrey comes into my gym once a week for the low-cost self-defense class I teach. Cuter than hell, she’s too young for me, not that it matters.
My life consists of a number of rules. At the top of my list: don’t date clients. Don’t date at all, if I’m being honest.
“Sullivan?” Her cheeks turn even redder.
I offer my hand to help her up and she winces.
Dropping my gaze, I understand why. The fall ripped a huge hole in her tight, black leggings at the left knee. Blood and dirt ooze from multiple scrapes and the skin is already turning shades of red and purple.
She hisses in a pained breath and her eyes water.
“It’s okay, Aubrey.” I wrap an arm around her waist and encourage her to lean on me. “I’ve got you.”
“Ooo…it stings so bad.”
“Do you want me to take you to the emergency room?”
“No.” She glances down at the wriggling mass of muscles and fur. “Thank you for catching him. I’m dog-walking and apparently I’m not cut out for it.”
There’s a note of shame in her tone I don’t like. “He’s a strong boy. He’d be a handful for anyone,” I say, tugging the leash.
“No kidding.” Her lips twist in a pained imitation of a smile.
“Come on, my Jeep’s right over there. I’ll give you two a ride home.”
“Thanks.”
I wrap the leash up in my free hand and keep my arm around her waist. She limps the whole way and aware of how inappropriate it would be, I have to fight the urge to pick her up and carry her.
Gambler happily jumps in the back. I hold the passenger side door open for Aubrey and she hesitates. Her eyes shine. Her cheeks turn even redder.
“What’s wrong?”
She drops her head, staring at the sidewalk.
Finally, it occurs to me, she’s not sure how to climb into my lifted Jeep with her torn-up knee. “I’m too short,” she whispers.
Short my ass. She’s perfect.
“Here.” I show her the oh-shit bar in the right corner. Before thinking it through, I fit my hands around her waist and boost her up.
A squeal erupts out of her. “You can’t!”
“Can’t what?”
“Lift me.”
“I just did.” I settle my hand on her leg to stop her from turning in the seat. “Wait.”
Her big, brown, questioning eyes meet mine.
“Your knee.” I reach past her and snag a bottle of water out of the middle console. “We need to clean it up.”
“I’ll be fine,” she protests.
“You went down pretty hard. I don’t want it to get infected.” I brush her hand aside and survey the damage. Blood and dirt trail down her leg, seeping into the ragged material of her ruined pants. “This is bad,” I mutter, squirting water over the non-shredded parts of her leg first.
I grab a wad of clean napkins out of the glove compartment and dab at a few spots. Once I wash some of the blood away, I note the bits of gravel and dirt embedded in her flesh. Her injury is more than I can treat on the side of the road with a bottle of water and some cheap, paper napkins.
“How far is your place?” I ask, meeting her watery eyes.
She points down the road. “Not far.”
“Buckle up.” I nudge her into the seat and pull the seatbelt around her. She shakes her head, but buckles in while I close the door.
When I climb in on the other side, a warm wet tongue lashes the side of my face. I reach back and pat Gambler’s head. “Thanks for the tongue-bath, fella.”
“He seems to like you. You must remind him of Tyler.”
Who the hell is Tyler?
Yeah, here I am with my rigid rule about not dating clients, poor girl’s bleeding and in pain, and I’m itching with jealousy the second another man’s name comes out of her sinful mouth.
Good job, jerk.
“Is that your boyfriend?” I ask striving for a neutral tone.
Her soft laughter reassures me before she even says a word. “No. He’s my neighbor. He needed a dog-sitter, and I needed the money.”
“Where’s your house?”
She points up ahead. “Third right.”
I recognize the area. Cheap apartments contained in three square brick buildings three stories each. I follow the road around to the parking lot located in the back.
“The last one,” she directs.
I pull into a spot in front of her building and open my door.
“Oh, you don’t have to—”
“What floor do you live on?” There’s no chance in hell I’m letting her limp her way inside all by herself. I’m still not convinced she doesn’t need to go to the hospital.
“The second.”
“How are you planning to get the two of you upstairs?”
I don’t wait for an answer. Jogging around the Jeep, I open her door and help her out. “It’s getting hot,” she mutters, slipping off her sweatshirt and tying it around her waist.
Fuck me.
Hot’s an understatement. The long, loose T-shirt she’s wearing has no business being that sexy. The round neckline hints at a tight-fitting sports bra underneath and shows off a lot of f
lushed skin covered in a fine sheen of sweat, nudging the dirtier part of my mind into wondering if that’s what she’d look like after sex.
“Sully? The dog?” Her soft voice draws me away from my filthy fantasies.
“Sure. Yeah.”
I open the back and Gambler falls into my arms, body wiggling, tail wagging, tongue licking. “You’re just one big ball of energy aren’t ya, boy?” I set him down and rub his head.
Aubrey moves to take the leash and I stop her. “I’ve got him. Go ahead.”
She doesn’t protest, and I stop to dig out a first aid kit before catching up with her.
Every step makes her flinch and the urge to scoop her up comes raging back.
“Here.” She holds her hand out for the leash at the top of the stairs. “I need to let him into Ty’s place.”
How close is she with this guy? Why does she have his apartment key?
Not your concern, jackass.
I wait outside while she takes care of the dog. When she backs out of the apartment and sees me, her eyes widen.
“What are you still doing here?”
“Waiting for you.”
A brief smile flickers over her face. “You don’t have to do that.”
As if I’d leave her alone limping and bleeding. We stand there staring at each other for a few seconds.
“Well.” She points to the door in front of us. “That’s me.”
Attraction is a funny thing.
I’ve been attracted to Sully from the moment we first met. He’s never looked at me with anything other than professional interest. Even though our mutual friends Bree and Liam have hinted several times that we’d make a cute couple.
Fate has a terrible sense of humor.
Here, I’m trying to do a nice thing and walk my neighbor’s dog so I can earn extra money.
Instead, I end up falling, barely miss getting run over by some asshole, scraping most of the skin off my knee, and looking like a fool in front of my crush.
Now, he wants to come into my apartment too? Can my morning take more of a sucky wrong turn?
“Uh, sure.”
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