by Nicole Helm
“Ice it. I know.” She could let him be the knight in shining armor if he wanted to, but she wasn’t going to pretend she didn’t know how to look after her knee.
“You a doctor or something?” Alex asked, his tone teasing.
“Or something.” In spite of the fact they would be meeting her officially in a few short hours at the team’s first practice, this wasn’t how she’d imagined introducing herself. And she couldn’t bring herself to tell the Tucker Lloyd she was his new athletic trainer after he’d gone to all the effort of wrapping her up. Especially not when he was kneeling by her side, giving her such a sweet, concerned look.
“Thanks,” she said.
“No problem. You think you can stand up?” He offered her his hand.
Emmy was struck dumb momentarily when she met his eyes. She shifted her gaze, staring at his hand like she didn’t understand what its purpose was. “Stand up?” She must have still been woozy from the fall.
“Like, on your feet?” Alex suggested. “Did you sustain any head injuries we didn’t see?”
“No,” she said with forced certainty and took Tucker’s hand, letting him draw her up to a standing position. The front of their bodies brushed against each other, making her cheeks flush. His chest was hard and toned and felt warm through the threadbare material of his shirt.
Too bad she couldn’t blame her blush on an imaginary bump to the noggin. What had gotten into her? She never got worked up around famous athletes.
“I have to go.” She pushed herself off him, letting her touch linger a moment longer than was respectable before snatching her hand away and giving herself a stern internal lecture.
Bad Emmy!
Her bike hadn’t sustained any serious damage, so when she climbed back on, the frame was still in excellent shape to help her make a speedy getaway, though her knee protested something fierce.
“Hey,” Tucker called after her. “What’s your…?”
His voice trailed off as she turned a corner. She realized too late he’d been trying to ask her name, and she’d run off without so much as a backwards glance.
She’d just completely blown off Tucker Lloyd.
You are cordially challenged to a test of true love.
The Dysfunctional Test
© 2013 Kelly Moran
Growing up in her large, crazy Serbian family, Camryn Covic became an expert at shutting down her emotions in order to maintain her sanity. But when she loses her apartment, her job and her boyfriend all in one day, she hits her breaking point.
Worse, if her family finds out she’s single again, her sister’s upcoming wedding will be a disaster. The bride-to-be has a plan, though. A plan that involves an old friend, a pretend relationship…and the probability of ending up in a padded cell. This time for real.
Troy Lanske agreed to the crazy plan only because, when he was a lonely foster child, Camryn was his lifeline. But she isn’t the idealistic girl he remembers. She’s become so jaded that she doesn’t even believe in love anymore.
He sets out to restore her faith in happily-ever-afters, but his plan backfires when the fake relationship begins to feel all too real. Falling for the one woman he can’t have could mean losing more than just his honorary family. He could lose everything.
Warning: Contains a Playgirl-material hero and a woman who thinks she couldn’t be any more wrong for him. Enter one “Big Fat Overly Romantic Serbian Family”. Sit back and watch the magic happen. Enjoy!
Enjoy the following excerpt for The Dysfunctional Test:
“Cam, you’re early.”
She stood on his doorstep wearing a pair of pressed khakis and a white blouse. She surveyed him through those huge hazel eyes of hers. “Troy, you’re naked.”
“Not completely. I do have a towel.” He stepped out of the way to let her inside. “Have a seat. I’ll go get dressed.”
After pulling on a T-shirt and shorts in his bedroom, he walked down the short hall to the kitchen. Knowing her answer, he asked anyway. “Want a beer?”
“No, thank you.”
He grabbed a bottle of Miller Lite and sat across from her on the futon. “How’s Chicago treating you?”
She took her eyes away from their family portrait to look at him. “I’m moving back home after the wedding.”
With Camryn Covic, someone had to look very hard to see emotion. She had feelings, buried way deep under all the crap she piled on top. For Troy, his tell was her eyes. She had the same look now she had twenty years ago when the social worker first brought him to her parents’ house. He’d gone to bed without dinner, by choice, and she brought him a PB&J with the crust cut off.
She didn’t ask about his bruises. Didn’t ask about his torn clothes. In fact, she didn’t say anything except…
“You wanna talk about it?” he asked her now, mimicking the question she’d asked him so long ago.
She searched his face for several long beats, and then a smile traced the corners of her mouth. A sad smile, but a smile. She remembered. “No, but thank you.”
That was his response back then too. Troy took a swig of beer to dislodge the lump. Camryn was also the only person who could make him feel sentimental.
“I haven’t seen the house since you bought it. I like what you’ve done.”
“Thanks,” he said, glancing around. He’d painted the living room walls a burnt sienna. His furniture was black. Everything else screamed bachelor pad. “Heather says it needs a woman’s touch.”
“Well, then it wouldn’t be yours.”
Man, she always did understand him. Even more than her brother, his best friend. She understood how important it was, after a childhood like his, to own something of his own. She’d framed the family portrait of them from one Christmas as a housewarming gift. She’d also bought him a jar of peanut butter.
“So, Cam, what’s this proposal? Is it at least indecent?”
Her posture turned rigid. “It’s indecent all right. It’s not really a proposal though…”
“Damn,” he said, trying to lighten her mood. Futile. “Is it bigger than a…”
“I need a date for Heather’s wedding.”
Troy snapped his mouth shut, totally not expecting her to say that. Did she want him to set her up or something? ’Cause he didn’t know a man who could handle her. “And?”
Her eyes closed briefly. “Would you be my date for the wedding?”
He almost laughed until he remembered she didn’t have a sense of humor. He glanced around the room for a hidden camera anyway.
“What are you doing?”
“Um, nothing,” he said. “What about your very serious boyfriend? Fisher said…”
“It didn’t work out,” she said impatiently, cutting him off and swallowing. “Look, long story short, I’m alone. You know Mom and Dad. Heather’s worried about the family embarrassing her. I just need someone to be the guy I’ve been dating long enough to get through the trip. We’ll break up right after.”
He got up and looked under the couch. There had to be a hidden camera somewhere. A microphone. Something. Because Camryn Covic was stoically sitting in his living room, asking him out.
“Troy, what are you doing?”
“Did Heather wire the house? How’d she get you to do this?”
When she didn’t answer, he looked up from where he kneeled on the floor. Her hand fluttered to her mouth and her gaze darted to the window.
She wasn’t kidding. He was an ass. He sat back down with a measure of control. “I’ve seen this movie, you know. It always ends with them falling in love.”
“Won’t happen.”
She was right on that account. “You can get any guy you want. Why me?”
The way she looked at him had even his inner child cowering. “There’s no need to make fun of me. I know you don’t usually date women like me, but…”
“Women like you?” he repeated.
“Yes, we’re vastly different. I’m not you’re type.”
&nbs
p; Now he was interested. “And what’s my type?”
She rubbed her forehead. “Thin, bottle blonde, and a bust size bigger than their IQ.”
“Ouch, Cam. Now who’s insulting whom?”
At least he’d succeeded in frustrating her as much as she did him. Not easily done with regards to Cam. The woman could handle anything, make any person feel like an imbecile. She let out a harsh exhale and looked away.
“Why wouldn’t I date you?” Not that he didn’t know the answer, but he was curious what her reasoning was.
“Christ, Troy. You look like you’ve been digitally enhanced from the moment you get out of bed.”
“Was that a compliment?” It kinda sounded like a compliment.
She just stared at him, so he looked back. Really looked. Camryn was more cute than hot. More girl-next-door than girl-on-stripper-pole. She had a cherubic face slightly offset by a button nose. Her complexion was paler than her siblings, making her shoulder-length, cinnamon brown hair an emphasis. She wasn’t a twig like Heather, having more of an hourglass curve he could always appreciate in a woman. But her eyes… It was like she never grew into them. A cosmic mix of green and blue and brown.
If she wasn’t Camryn Covic, he probably would be attracted to her.
“You know me, Troy,” she said quietly, finally breaking eye contact. “I know what doing this will mean for you. But, please, I don’t want Heather looking back on her wedding day and only remembering how I ruined it.”
She couldn’t ruin something if she tried. More importantly though… “They’ll hate me. Your family is the only one I have. After this supposed breakup, they’ll hate me.”
She shook her head. Stared into her lap. “No, they won’t. They’ll think you temporarily lost your mind. They’ll hate me. For letting you go, or hurting you, or messing up another relationship.”
No way did she believe that. Except the defeat in her face said she did. Her lips pressed together as if trying not to cry. The Cam he knew didn’t know how to cry.
“Are you even attracted to me?”
Her mouth popped open. Her head whipped up. “Excuse me?”
“The family is going to expect us to act like a couple. Holding hands, kissing, public displays of affection.”
“I don’t do public displays of affection.”
He wondered if she did private ones. He scooted next to her and draped an arm behind her back.
She flew off the couch. “What are you doing?”
He didn’t think her eyes could get any bigger. How wrong he was. “Kissing you.”
“Why?”
Standing, he took a step toward her. She stepped back.
They did this dance until she backed herself solidly against his entryway table. He pinned her by placing his hands on either side of her waist. When he leaned in, not to kiss her but to whisper in her ear, his cheek brushed hers. The rough rasp of his day-old growth grazed her pale, soft cheek. She sucked in a breath and grabbed his T-shirt, bunching it in her hand.
And just like that, he didn’t know who was playing the trick on whom. Had no idea what his original point was in doing this. He closed his eyes and inhaled, smelling lemongrass. Light and clean and distinctly her. He couldn’t tell if it was her heart or his pounding. Either way, it wasn’t a good sign. For balance, he opened his eyes.
“Can you fake this kind of attraction, Cam? Because if you can’t, this won’t work.” He took a step back, not enough to free her, but enough to look down at her to see if she was as ruffled as he.
She stared at his chest. Swallowed. “This was a mistake. I’m sorry.” As if just noticing her grip on his shirt, she dropped her hand. “Pretend I never said anything.” She brought her arm up and brushed by him.
Was that a tremor in her voice?
With his back to her, he could hear her walking to the couch to grab her purse, and then turning the knob on his front door. In the twenty years he’d known Camryn, he’d never known her to ask for anything, even help. Especially help.
Not then. Not now. Not ever.
It had to be so humiliating for her coming to him, particularly about something like this. And he’d just embarrassed the crap out of her. After all she’d done for him…
“I’ll do it, Cam.” He turned and looked at her when she paused. “I’ll do whatever you need. I promise.”
She gazed at her hand on the knob and nodded, but said nothing before leaving.
He stared at the door. Ran a hand over his hair. Stared at the door some more.
Finally, he pulled out his cell. “A little warning would have been nice, Heather!” His voice came out way harsher than he’d intended, but he’d just been rattled three times in the course of twenty minutes.
“I know, I know. But Cam would’ve killed me.” She paused for him to speak. He didn’t. “Are…you going to do it?”
He looked at the door again. “Yes.”
“Thank you, Troy.”
Heather’s voice had gotten weepy, so he plopped on the couch and drank from his beer.
“That guy she was seeing, Maxwell, he kinda did a number on her.”
No one ever did anything to Camryn. She’d never allow it. “How so?”
“Don’t tell her I said anything, okay. She just…”
Troy set his beer down and leaned forward. “Just what, Heather?”
She paused long enough to have him worried. “She got let go from the firm and found out she has to move in the course of a day. She’s moving back home. It’s probably killing her.”
Yeah, he could tell. Strip Camryn of control and independence and she was nothing. “What does that have to do with the ex?”
“He broke up with her right before she got fired. Said some things…”
Troy stood, tension wringing his jaw tight. If it was bad enough to have Heather upset, he could only imagine what it was doing to Camryn. “What did he say?”
“I just think she needs a morale boost, okay. Tell her she’s pretty. Make her feel special. If anyone can do that, you can.”
Camryn was not one of these women men had to placate. Say empty, meaningless things to. He was pretty sure Cam would’ve punched him if he did. Heather knew that too. And they definitely weren’t real a couple, so what in the hell had happened for Heather to want to intervene?
“Heather, what did he say?”
She paused. Sighed. “He called her a robot. Compared her to a fish in bed.” Troy ground his teeth. “He was sleeping with someone behind her back.”
Troy looked at the futon like Camryn was still sitting there. That look on her face and the things she’d said started making more sense now. If Camryn was anything, she was confident. When she came over today, she seemed the same. He didn’t bother to try to understand, delve deeper.
No. He cracked jokes and…
“I’ll talk to you later, Heather. Thanks for letting me know.”
Flight Risk
Nicole Helm
Flying too close to love could get her heart burned.
Antiques in Flight, Book 1
After losing his mother to cancer, Trevor Steele has taken a leave of absence from the FBI to get his little sister through her last months of high school. But once she’s settled in college next fall, he’s leaving Pilot’s Point and heading back to Seattle.
Now if only he could keep his mind off childhood friend Callie Baker. Especially since she’s asked him for a big chunk of his spare time to help save her family business.
Once the town bad girl, Callie has had to get her act together to keep Antiques in Flight airport from falling apart. Swallowing her pride to ask for Trevor’s help is the hardest thing she’s ever done—next to trying to forget the sizzling kiss they shared two years ago.
Working side by side leads to a complicated dance of almost-moments, until their repressed urges finally break free. But just as Trevor begins to think staying for good might be the right path, Callie closes herself off, afraid to believe in promises…even Trev
or’s.
Warning: A woman who’d rather face an airplane engine than falling for her best friend, a man who’d rather face a gun to his head than going home, and a love that will test what they both want.
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They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B
Cincinnati OH 45249
Flight Risk
Copyright © 2013 by Nicole Helm
ISBN: 978-1-61921-618-1
Edited by Tera Kleinfelter
Cover by Angela Waters
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: August 2013
www.samhainpublishing.com
Table of Contents
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twekve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
