Red Hot Lovers: 18 Contemporary Romance Books of Love, Passion, and Sexy Heroes by Your Favorite Top-Selling Authors

by Milly Taiden

  At the winery, Evan and Ty were playing host, greeting guests at the front doors. Fall had arrived in Wardham and the decorations inside reflected that with colourful leaves and cranberries everywhere. They’d hired an external catering company to provide lunch and do event management but the West brothers were perfectionists and had taken special care to make their space special for Beth. Finn shook their hands, thanked them again, and when Ryan passed over his flask, shared a quick toast to his bride.

  Finn had always enjoyed weddings—for the bridesmaids, usually, but also the casual elegance and slow pace of an entire day of celebration—but his own seemed to proceed at warp speed. Before he knew it, he was standing at the top of an aisle in the foyer. They’d only invited seventy-five people, so the ceremony was in the modern double story space and lunch would be served in the great hall. He expected Beth to come in the double doors and walk down the aisle, past their seated guests, but after her mother walked in and sat down, the justice of the peace instead pointed to the second story. The music changed, everyone rose, and out from her office stepped Beth with her father, a veil hanging down her back, framing her face.

  Finn started laughing, which most people wouldn’t understand, but Beth did. A gorgeous, wide smile cut across her face as she realized he appreciated her surprise. As they slowly stepped down the staircase, his heart rate sped up.

  Her father kissed her at the bottom of the stairs then joined his wife in the front row. Beth held her hands out and Finn took them.

  “You’re shaking,” she whispered.

  “I don’t get married every day.” He blew out a long breath. “Ready?”

  “Oh yeah. You ready?”

  “I’ve been ready for months, my girl.”

  *

  The vows, a reading by Finn’s sisters, the exchange of rings and signing of the registry all swam by in a haze. Beth had been warned by many of her friends that she might not be able to take it all in, and she was glad she’d hired a videographer. She wondered how many times she’d touch her tummy in the video, and giggled at their secret news. She’d taken a random server from the catering company into her confidence and the young girl brought her custom poured flutes of ginger ale and club soda that looked just like champagne.

  They had their first dance before lunch, and at the end Finn gave a repeat performance of the big dip and halfway indecent kiss he’d planted on her at the end of the ceremony. Then it was time for feasting, although Beth wanted to sit and visit with everyone so while the others visited the buffet and tucked in, she circled the tables and thanked everyone for coming. She posed for pictures until her cheeks hurt from smiling, and when Finn wrapped his big hand around the outside curve of her waist and pointed her to their seats, she wanted to protest.

  “You need to eat, my wife,” he said, brushing his lips against her ear, his voice low and for her alone. “Feed my baby.”

  So she sat and tucked into the plate of food her husband brought her.

  ***

  Want more Wardham? There are seven other standalone romances in this series. One is always available for free! Start the series with What Once Was Perfect, a holiday reunion romance about reunited lovers. Kyle Nixon was Laney’s first everything. Now she’s back, and he’s not going to fumble his second chance at winning her heart—this time, for good.

  WHAT ONCE WAS PERFECT

  (Wardham #1)

  See WHAT ONCE WAS PERFECT at:

  Amazon

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  About Zoe York

  Zoe York lives in London, Ontario with her young family. She's currently chugging Americanos, wiping sticky fingers, and dreaming of heroes in and out of uniform.

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  Table of Contents

  Their Second Chance by Milly Taiden

  Forever Sheltered by Deanna Roy

  Kiss of Memory by V. M. Black

  The Cowgirl Ropes A Billionaire by Cora Seton

  What a Girl Wants (Rock Stars in Disguise: Rhiannon) by Blair Babylon

  Beyond Love and Hate by Zoe York

  Ripped by Olivia Rigal

  Ready to Fall by Daisy Prescott

  My First, My Last by Lacey Silks

  Azure by Chrystalla Thoma

  Wicked Little Sins by Holly Hood

  The Royal Elite: Ahsan by Danielle Bourdon

  All for Hope by Olivia Hardin

  High Risk Love by S.J. Mayer

  Rush by Violet Vaughn

  First Taste by Mira Bailee

  The Perfect Someday by Beverly Preston

  St. Charles at Dusk by Sarah M. Cradit

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  RIPPED

  by Olivia Rigal

  RIPPED

  by Olivia Rigal

  RIPPED © Olivia Rigal 2014

  Lyv wants a life far removed from her dysfunctional family and the diner they own, especially now that Ten, her best friend and lifeline to normality, is spending a semester in Europe.

  What she gets is an absent rock-star baby daddy and a difficult choice to make - unless it's ripped from her first.

  PART ONE

  1978

  CHAPTER ONE

  Manhattan is so pretty around the holidays, I'm happy Ten was able to whisk me away. I still can't believe my mother said yes and let me go with him. But then again, it's hard to say no to a Clark, especially to Tennessee Charles Clark when he puts on his charm. Ten and I have known each other forever, since my parents moved to Long Island and opened their diner. I was so young then, it seems like forever.

  In the summer the entire Clark family sets up residence in the Hamptons. It's a tradition and the Clarks are all about traditions. One of those is that the entire clan goes out for brunch on Sundays and wherever they go becomes the trendy place. My parents were lucky; James Tennessee Clark, the patriarch, stopped at their diner and liked it enough to create a new tradition. James Clark put the Main Street Diner on the map, so the Bitch knows better than to refuse anything to a Clark.

  Sometimes I think she's actually entertaining the fantasy that there could be something between Ten and me. Seriously. If she had some grip on reality she would see that I'm not his type at all. All the girls he dates are flat. They're the no-butt-no-breasts sort of girls, so androgynous looking you would not know they were female if you were standing behind them.

  I'm just the opposite. There's nothing flat about me. I'm all curves. Objectively, I know I have a pretty face but the rest of me is not fashionably thin. I'm obviously not the flavor of the decade but I try to make peace with it. Furthermore, now that Ten's in college, he dates older girls. I'm the kid sister he's never had. We're buddies.

  We ride Ten's Superglide to Manhattan and have lunch, his treat, at Rockefeller Center, looking at the enormous tree. We walk around Central Park and in the west village and go to a concert in the lower East side. I’m so excited, it’s ridiculous! But then I seldom go anywhere so this is a real adventure. Manhattan is like a different universe. Even the food doesn’t taste the same. I just look up at the Christmas lights and smile at Ten.

  “Enough with this stupid Christmas spirit,” he says with good humor, “there's this club on Bowery. Really exciting things are happening there. That’s where we’re going now.”

  He's so passionate about music. If it were not for his influence the only thing I would know about is what plays on the radio. That’s not fair to our school music teacher. The poor man is trying to broaden our horizons. He started with Chinese opera and seriously, it was like torture. A few weeks later that Oriental fiasco, he introduced us to African drums and that was fun.

  Anyway, I love soul, I enjoy pop music but I’m curious about other types of music and Ten’s a walking musical dictionary. I tease him and ask him
when he's finally going to admit that 10CC actually stands for Tennessee Charles Clark and that he wrote I'm Not In Love. He’s insulted, that’s way too mainstream for him!

  As Ten parks the bike I look around and realize we're in a really crappy part of town. I’m happy I’m not here alone. I’m happier when I see there's a huge bouncer by the door. Ten asks this mountain of a guy to keep an eye on his ride. I wonder if the man's armed because the street boasts a few crazies talking to themselves or yelling at the world. One of them is ranting about Vietnam. A veteran, I guess. The poor soul seems to be haunted by ghosts. There are also bums sleeping off their poison of choice on the pavement despite the cold weather. I see empty bottles of beer and cheap liquor. Those men are different from the Long Island drunks we have. They seem more damaged. As I remove my helmet I try not to stare but I can't, it's a morbid fascination. It's difficult to tear my eyes from them but I finally do to thread my fingers through Ten's hair to repair the flat I-just-removed-my-helmet look.

  Ten lets me do it and smiles back at me. I think he likes that I baby him a bit. His mom's a notch colder than mine. I never thought it possible before I met the woman. My mother's the Queen Bitch while Ten's mum is the Ice Queen.

  When I'm done fixing his hair we walk in the club. It's dark and busy and loud. Ten walks through the crowd with ease. I hold on to his hand and follow in his wake until he decides we're close enough to the stage. He's doing this for me. He's six three so he could probably watch the stage from the other side of the room. He pulls me in front of him. I take one step and then I become star struck.

  Actually I think Ten and I are both star struck. I freeze and Ten bumps into me. I turn around and see he’s gawking at this guy standing on the dance floor a few steps ahead of us. He's like the modern version of a classical Greek god. He must be around Ten's age, somewhere in his early twenties, and he's built like Ten. He’s tall, broad shoulders visible under a leather jacket, slim waist in 501 jeans, and biker's boots. Funny, Ten and he are dressed just the same. He also has the very same biker's flat hairdo that Ten and I wore a minute ago. The more I look at him the more I realize that they could be brothers with identical square jaws and chestnut hair, except that Greek God's eyes are a light shade of blue whereas Ten's are so dark they look black.

  But there’s a major difference between them. Ten's got this good-boy look that makes all respectable mature woman want him to date their daughters. Ten looks safe and reliable. Ten actually does make me feel protected. When I’m with him I don’t think about most of the dangers of the world. Greek God is in a totally different league. I can tell just by looking at the way he's moving around that he's anything but safe. He's seductive danger. He's attractive trouble. He’s hot as hell.

  My heart rate has quickened to the pulse of the rock song played by the performing band. I put my hand on Ten's shoulder and stand on my toes to whisper yell in his ear, “I think I'm in love. ”

  He smiles at me and bends to whisper yell in mine, “So am I. I love bad boys. ” He laughs looking at the expression of my face as I process his statement. “Come on, Lovey. Don't tell me you hadn't figured it out before. Surely you know I swing both ways,” he laughs.

  I shake my head and smile. Of course at one time I did have questions about his preferences. I had noticed him staring at some hulk that caught my eye but when he started dating his flat girls, I thought that when he looked at guys he was just being protective of me. I believed he was just keeping an eye on who I was checking out. Okay, so now I know better, he looked too because we like the same type of guys.

  “Well I kind of suspected,” I admit. I want to ask him why he did not come out to me earlier. Did he not trust me enough? As far as the rest of the world is concerned, I understand the pretense. I guess he dates girls but keeps the guys a secret because he fears his grandfather's reaction. He would probably be banished from the family circle if they knew.

  Greek God stares at us, turns around and walks away. We both watch him. Ten stands right behind me and says, “I have no idea which way this guy swings but there was a bulge in his pants as he looked at us. I wonder who sprouted it.”

  I laugh. Boys! How was he able to spot the other guy's hard on while I never saw a thing? There's an easy answer to this question. I was looking at the guy's eyes while Ten's gaze went south of his face.

  We dance. Well Ten dances and I kind of sway to the beat while the band plays. It's not my kind of music but it's not unbearable. Soon enough the winter cold is forgotten and I'm really warm. I think the place is getting so crowded it’s raising the temperature a notch. “Can you get drinks in this place?” I yell. I’m getting really hot and sweaty!”

  Ten yells back in my ear, “Ok, Lovey, save my spot, I’ll be right back. ” He leaves me to get us some drinks. I'm waiting for him to get back when Greek God comes over to me. He says something but the music's so loud I can't make out his words.

  I shake my head and make a hand gesture to indicate I have no clue what he just said. He wraps a hand around one of my arms and pulls me closer to him. I look up to his face and I'm lost. It takes all my willpower not to raise my free hand up to trace his jawline or the contour of his lips with the tip of my fingers. I want to touch such perfection to check that it's real. I think my heart has stopped and I can't do anything else but gaze into the deep sea of his eyes. He bends over to me and asks, “Lost your boy friend?”

  I take it what he's really asking is, “Are you guys together?”

  Let's not get too excited. The question can be understood one of two ways. One, he's into Ten and wondering where he's gone. Second, he's asking if the coast is clear because he's into me. Oh my god, I think he may be into me because his face stays so close to my ear even after he's finished talking. He closes his eyes and I think he's breathing me in. It's so hot when he does that. I think I'm melting. My bones are no longer solid and I almost lean into him for support. Could I have on him the effect that he has on me? I don’t know the guy and I feel so pulled to him it's frightening. I steady myself and remember I have the power of speech. Conveniently I don't have to yell since he stayed bent over. His ear is next to my lips.

  “My friend went to get us drinks. ”

  He pulls up his face and does not even try to hide the smile from his face as he says, “So, he's just a friend. ”

  I can't tear my eyes from the curve of his lips. Before I make a fool of myself, I'm saved by Ten's return. Greek God's face turns to him giving a chance to see how nicely etched a profile he has. This man is so perfect it's scary.

  “Hi, I'm Alexander. ”

  Ten smiles and says, “I'm Ten and I see you've met Lyv. ”

  “Like Lyv Ullmann?”

  I nod and I'm impressed. Most of the time I have to repeat my name and explain that, no, it's not short for anything else. It's just Lyv. My mother is an Ingmar Bergman groupie but saying this would be a stupid explanation since no one in my age group knows about the Swedish director and his star. Now Alexander's got a smug look on his face.

  His hand is still on my arm and he pulls me closer to him. It's my turn to breathe him in. There's lavender and something else that could just be him. He looks tentatively at Ten as if asking permission for something. Ten raises his eyebrows and shrugs. I look back and forth between the two of them. Their silent communication baffles me. Those two did not know each other two minutes ago and they seem able to read each other's mind. I guess it's a guy thing.

  The first band programmed for the evening show stops playing and the light brightens a bit. A bunch of guys get up on the stage to help pack up the gear of the exiting band and get the set ready for the next band. Ten and Alexander start a discussion about music. They seem to be on the same page from Blue Oyster Cult to ZZ Top. I listen to them without putting in my two cents. It’s really not my type of music, I'm into mellow stuff. These days I listen to America but my two favorite songs are King Harvest's ‘Dancing in the Moonlight’ and Van Morrison's ‘Moondance’. What c
an I say? I'm a moon girl.

  Alexander's hand moves from my arm to my waist and it feels perfectly natural. It's like I belong nestled against him. Guys, probably the members of the next band to play, get on stage. The bass and the guitar players fine-tune several instruments. The drummer adjusts his seat and on his signal the lights get dim again. I watch them settling in until Alexander lets go of my waist and places a knuckle under my chin to turn my face to him. He brushes his lips against mine and says, “See you in a bit, Love. ”

  I almost swoon as he walks away and climbs on to the stage as the band begins to play. It’s not like he’s the first guy that ever kissed me. I’ve done some more serious kissing activity a few times with boys at school but this light brush of our lips was something else. It was a tease and a promise of better things to come. Or not … maybe it’s all in my head.

  He picks up a guitar from a stand and places himself in front of a mike. They play the intro to the song and he winks in my direction. A second later he opens his mouth and blows my mind away.

  His voice is unlike any other I've ever heard. First it's smooth and velvety and sinfully tender when the band starts with a ballad. The lyrics are about sorrow and lost love. But then a hard rock piece follows and his voice turns raspy and angry. A voice like that could lead a revolution and bring a crowd to riot. Then there's a happy sexy love song and I want to be the one he sings about. Hell, I look around and everyone is in love with him. His stage presence is magical. They do five songs and when they stop the entire audience goes wild.