The Wrong Kind of Love

by Lexi Ryan

  “To the moon and back,” I say on a ragged exhale.

  “Exactly. And I know you’re the kind of person who wouldn’t let Lilly’s asshole father keep you from doing right by her.” He pauses a beat. Maybe he’s waiting for me to reply, but I can’t. My throat is too thick with tears. He wipes the tears from my cheeks. “I don’t regret my years with Elena. I loved her, even when I did it badly. And she gave me Lilly.” He shakes his head, still holding my face in his hands. “I only regret that the guilt and fear her death left in me almost made me lose you.”

  “You never lost me,” I say, looking into his eyes. “A love like this is too big to lose.”

  He lowers his mouth to mine and kisses me, and I wrap my arms around him and trust love. One more time.

  Nicole

  “It’s a turkey baster,” Ava says. She frowns at Teagan, who laughs so hard she nearly falls out of the booth.

  Ava waves the turkey baster in the air and tries to scowl at Teagan, but her disapproval isn’t very believable since she can’t stop smiling. “You’re a bitch.”

  We’re sitting at the back of Jackson Brews for our biweekly girls’ night out.

  “I guess I should make an announcement,” Ava says. She’s the guest of honor tonight as the birthday girl, and her words slur just a little bit.

  Tonight, it’s Ava, Teagan, Veronica with her newly popped baby bump, and me. Sometimes Shay comes, and those nights are always extra special, but she couldn’t make it tonight. She and Kathleen spent the day in Grand Rapids on the last of this round of chemo treatments. The woman is exhausted, but she’s a fighter, and if anyone can kick cancer into submission, it’s Kathleen.

  “I want to hear your announcement,” I say. “Spill.”

  “Since it’s my birthday, I decided to get myself a present.”

  “You deserve it,” Teagan says. Her words are a little slurred too. What can I say? We’ve been having a good time tonight.

  Girls’ night is the best night.

  Well, next to date night. And Nic and Lilly night. And just every freaking night of my life right now. I’m in a sweet spot, and I know it. I’m enrolled in classes at the community college, falling in love with a cute little town and all its gossipy residents, slowly repairing my relationship with my sister, and believing for the first time in a long time that happiness is something I can feel rather than a mask I need to wear.

  “What kind of present?” Veronica asks.

  “A baby.” We stare at her. “I decided I’m going to have one,” she says, as if that explains everything.

  “Like, immaculate conception or . . .” Veronica says.

  Ava scowls at my sister. “Okay, bitch. I’m fully aware of the missing piece of this puzzle, but I’m thirty years old, and that doesn’t seem to be changing anytime soon. But I couldn’t conceive the entire time I was married—”

  “A blessing in disguise,” Teagan says.

  “—so I feel like I should start trying now,” Ava finishes.

  “Trying . . . to get pregnant?” I bite my lip. I don’t want to be a bitch, but Ava was still single last I checked.

  “Yeah, ’cause who needs a dude to do that?” Veronica says.

  Ava shakes her head. “Listen. I swear I’m not crazy. I’ve already been married and that didn’t work. As nice as it would be to find a guy to spend my life with, it’s not necessary. But pregnancy and a baby? That’s something I want to experience.” She smacks the table and grins. “I want a family, and I’m not getting any younger, so I’m making one myself.”

  “Good for you,” Veronica says, raising her glass of water.

  “I think that’s great,” I say. “Really, really damn brave, but great.”

  “So . . .” Teagan scans the bar. “Do we get to just pick from the guys at the bar or what?”

  Ava rolls her eyes. “I’ve already talked to some sperm banks. I’m looking through donors now, but here’s the deal—what if these men are crazy? There’s no checkbox for that on the questionnaire. How do you know you’re not putting crazy-man semen up in your business? I want to love my child, not wonder if maybe his dad had some weird rubber-glove fetish.”

  Teagan nods. “This seems like a reasonable concern. Because genetics.”

  “I’m confused,” Veronica says. “You’re using the sperm bank, or you’re not?”

  Ava sighs. “I haven’t decided. Obviously, that’s the easiest way to get a baby in a position like mine, but . . .” She groans. “But ever since I got this crazy-guy thought in my head, none of the profiles are good enough. I’m nervous.”

  Teagan shrugs. “Why not just ask for some sperm from a friend? The turkey baster works the same way if the sperm is free, you know.”

  Ava arches a brow. “That’s a thing?”

  “Sure,” Teagan says. “My cousin did it. She was like you—wanted a baby, didn’t want to wait—so she just asked her best friend for some sperm, and he filled a cup for her. Nine months later, voila! A baby of her own who she knows has no rubber-glove fetish gene.”

  “That would definitely be ideal, but how do you even decide who to ask?”

  “Well,” Veronica says, “not that I get to choose, since I already made my bad decision, but if I were you, I’d definitely go after some Jackson genes.”

  “They do make some good-looking boys,” I say. “And they’re all brains, too.”

  “I’ve been friends with the Jacksons all my life,” Ava says. “Levi’s probably the hottest, and he’s easygoing and stuff, but I’m pretty sure that conversation would be awkward even with him.” She lowers her voice. “And I think he might secretly have a thing for my friend Ellie.”

  “And he’d want to actually fuck you,” Veronica says. She’s only met Levi a couple times, but I’d say her assessment is accurate. “No turkey baster.”

  “Jake’s your best friend, isn’t he?” Teagan says. “What about him? I bet he’d do it for you.”

  Ava wrinkles her nose. “It’s kind of weird, isn’t it?”

  Teagan nudges Ava’s glass closer to Ava’s hand. “Finish this and ask him to fill a cup for you.”

  “I guess it is my birthday. It can’t hurt to ask, right?” She swallows hard. “Here goes nothing.”

  That’s the moment I realize Ava is way more drunk than I realized. She doesn’t hesitate. She climbs out of the booth and goes right up to Jake, turkey baster in one hand, empty glass in the other. He leans forward as she whispers something in his ear.

  He frowns, looks at us, then back to her, and nods, then they leave the bar.

  “Well, damn,” Veronica says. “That was easy.”

  I spin on Teagan. “You know Jake has a thing for her, right?”

  Teagan’s eyes go wide. “He does?”

  “Yes, and has his whole life. As in, he’s madly in love with the woman you just sent up there to ask for his sperm.”

  Teagan chuckles and claps her hands. “Well, this is going to be fun, isn’t it?”

  I drag a hand over my face. “Girl.”

  “What’s going on over here?”

  I was so busy being mortified on Ava’s behalf that I didn’t even notice my insanely hot boyfriend walk into the bar.

  Ethan puts his hands on the table and scans the array of mostly empty glasses in front of us. “You ladies have been busy.”

  “Just water for me,” Veronica says.

  “That was mostly Teagan and Ava,” I tell him. “Though I did have one glass of Jake’s new watermelon sour.”

  He grins. “Wild thing.” He takes my hand and gives it a light tug. “We have a babysitter for another hour. Any chance I can steal you away from the girls?”

  I slide out of the booth and wave to Teagan and Veronica. “Goodnight, ladies.”

  “You’re gonna get laid, aren’t you?” Veronica says.

  Teagan scowls. “God, I hate you right now.”

  I blow them both kisses and head across the bar with Ethan, only he doesn’t go to the front door.
He grabs something from under the bar and leads me down the hallway to the bathroom.

  “This is the ladies’ room now,” he announces to the line of women, smacking the magnetic sign on the men’s room. He tugs me into the other restroom and has me pinned against the wall before the occupants even have a chance to leave.

  “Get a room,” a girl mutters behind us.

  Ethan grins at her over his shoulder, then pulls open the door to facilitate her exit. “Just did.”

  When the rest of the women file out of the bathroom, he closes the door and turns the bolt.

  “Hi, Dr. Jackson.” I grab his tie. “Did you need something from me?”

  He steps back so he can look me over—from my cowboy boots to my skirt, up to my red knit sweater. “You’re fucking right I do.”

  I release the button on his pants then slowly lower the zipper. “And do you need it stat?”

  “How could you tell?” he asks, grinning against my mouth.

  “Oh, you know, lots of experience.” I take him in my palm, and he lets out a low groan.

  “But not nearly enough.” He kisses me harder, grinning the whole time, and I agree. I’ll never get enough of this man or tire of his smiling kisses. And maybe, just maybe, I needed all the wrongs to find the right kind of love.

  Thank you for reading The Wrong Kind of Love, book one in The Boys of Jackson Harbor series. If you’d like to receive an email when I release a new book, please sign up for my newsletter: http://eepurl.com/qymaH

  I hope you enjoyed this book and will consider leaving a review. Thank you for reading. It’s an honor!

  Read other books by Lexi Ryan

  Dear Reader:

  Depression is a bitch. It’s a liar—telling us we’re not enough, whispering insidious untruths that make us want to hide from everyone, to retreat from life itself. And it’s a thief—stealing the joy from our days, and the confidence from our hearts.

  I’ve wanted to write a book about depression for a long time, but I was worried no one would want to read it. People read romance to escape, not to feel sad. Then, as I wrote Nic and Ethan’s story and learned more about my characters, I realized that I’d been writing my passion project without realizing it. And I’m so very glad I did.

  Everyone experiences depression differently and to varying degrees. Nic’s experience isn’t representative of anyone’s experience but her own. For some of us, it’s manageable. For some, debilitating. I have a sister and a niece who have been hospitalized at different times on suicide watch, and I will forever be grateful they were able to admit they needed help.

  I love that Nic isn’t ashamed of her depression. She treats it like any other diagnosis—something she must tend to and deal with diligently, but nothing to be ashamed of. I watch my niece grow into a young woman and hope she’ll be able to do the same.

  If you struggle with depression or have suicidal thoughts, please know that there is help. The suicide hotline is available twenty-four hours a day at 1-800-273-8255. You are enough. You deserve all the goodness life has to offer without darkness pulling you under.

  “Bad at Love” by Halsey

  “Use Me” by The Goo Goo Dolls

  “New Rules” by Dua Lipa

  “Something I Can Never Have” by Nine Inch Nails

  “Stay” by Zedd feat. Alessia Cara

  “1-800-273-8255” by Logic, Alessia Cara, and Khalid

  “I Like Me Better” by Lauv

  “One More Light” by Linkin Park

  “Let You Down” by NF

  “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran

  I love hearing from readers. Find me on my Facebook page at www.facebook.com/lexiryanauthor, follow me on Twitter and Instagram @writerlexiryan, shoot me an email at writerlexiryan@gmail.com, or find me on my website: www.lexiryan.com

  First, a big thanks to my family. Brian, thank you for believing in me and my stories and for understanding when they (inevitably) take more time to finish than I expect. I love having you by my side for this journey. To my kids, Jack and Mary, thank you for making me laugh and helping remember that there is a world outside the book. I’m so proud of you two! To my mom, dad, brothers, sisters, in-laws, aunts, uncles, various cousins and cousins-in-law, thank you for cheering me on—each in your own way.

  This book is dedicated to my four brothers. They tormented me, protected me, challenged me, and entertained me. Growing up, I thought that I was the coolest kid around because I could claim those four. Still do.

  I’m lucky enough to have a life full of amazing friends, too. Thanks also to my workout friends and the entire CrossFit Terre Haute crew, especially Robin, who checks up on me when I disappear too long into the writing cave and likes to remind me that taking care of myself is important too, and my coaches, Matt and Chaz. A huge thanks to Mira Lyn Kelly, who gets me like no other. I’ve gotten a lot of amazing things from this career, but her friendship tops the list.

  To everyone who provided me feedback on this story along the way—especially Heather Carver, Samantha Leighton, Dina Littner, and Janice Owen—you’re all awesome. Rhonda Edits and Lauren Clarke, thank you for the insightful line and content edits. You both push me to be a better writer and make my stories the best they can be. Thanks to Arran McNicol at Editing720 for proofreading. Clearly, it takes a village.

  Thank you to the team that helped me package this book and promote it. Sarah Eirew took the gorgeous cover photo and did the design. A shout-out to my assistant Lisa Kuhne for trying to keep me in line. (It’s a losing battle, but she gives it her all.) Thank you to Nina and Social Butterfly PR for organizing the release. To all of the bloggers, bookstagrammers, readers, and reviewers who help spread the word about my books, I am humbled by the time you take out of your busy lives for my stories. I can’t thank you enough. You’re the best.

  To my agent, Dan Mandel, for believing in me and staying by my side. Thanks to you and Stefanie Diaz for getting my books into the hands of readers all over the world. Thank you for being part of my team.

  Finally, a big thank-you to my fans. My biggest dream was to make a career with my writing, and I still can’t believe I’m living that dream. I couldn’t do it without you. You’re the coolest, smartest, best readers in the world. I appreciate each and every one of you!

  ~Lexi

  The Wrong Kind of Love © 2018 by Lexi Ryan

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this book. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from the author except by reviewers, who may quote brief excerpts in connection with a review. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to institutions or persons, living or dead, is used fictitiously or purely coincidental.

  Cover and cover image © 2018 by Sara Eirew

  Interior designed and formatted by:

  www.emtippettsbookdesigns.com