by Sami Lee
Christ Almighty, she was a knockout. She’d left him with a killer hard-on last week, and every male instinct he possessed had screamed at him to ask her out afterward, but he’d refrained by force of sheer will. He hadn’t wanted to come off too eager. Desperation was a major turnoff to women, especially women like Jasmine.
“I’m free for meetings right now, Vera.”
It was Trevor Long, one of Aaron’s best estate agents who spoke to the receptionist. Aaron had his own glassed-in office, but he kept the door open. His dad hadn’t done that, had always believed in keeping a separation between himself and his employees. But Aaron had never been overly comfortable playing the hardass, unless it was absolutely necessary. The open-door policy meant his staff felt free coming to him with issues or advice. It also meant Aaron could hear everything that was going on around the office.
Right now, Trevor had his ravenous attention fixed on Jasmine. He slicked back his already jelled-into-submission blond hair and fairly licked his lips in anticipation.
A wholly unearned sense of territoriality gripped Aaron. He covered the phone mouthpiece and called out the open office door. “Vera, when Ms. Campbell comes in, can you show her to my office?”
Vera Wilmington—a woman in her late forties with four kids and a twenty-year marriage under her belt—turned and looked at Aaron over the top of her half-frame glasses. Her gaze slid from him to Trevor and back. Her lips twitched. “Sure thing.”
Trevor’s face fell. “Oh come on.”
“The boss’s prerogative, Trevor.” Aaron grinned. “And she’s an old friend of mine who would, I guarantee, eat you alive.”
“Yeah, but what a way to go,” Trevor mumbled, returning to his desk with a serious case of the sulks.
Aaron worked at finishing up with Bill Leadbeater as he watched Jasmine walk into the reception area, perch her sunglasses atop her head and ask for him by name. Aaron’s heart performed a ridiculous little flip. She’d come to see him specifically. That was interesting.
When Jasmine walked in, Aaron nodded in acknowledgment. She took a seat in the chair across from his desk and crossed her legs, causing her black skirt to ride farther up her thighs. Aaron couldn’t help the way his attention snagged on the exposed length of supple flesh. Damn, she had great legs. Too easy and too damn fun to imagine them wrapped around his waist as he pumped into her. The images accosted him, and the stirring in his loins became more of a frenzy. Jesus. At least pretend to be professional, dickhead.
Seeing the direction of his gaze, Jasmine uncrossed her legs and squeezed them together, sitting up straighter in her chair with her hands in her lap. The pose said “good Catholic schoolgirl”, something which Jasmine had never been. At least not in any way that wasn’t thoroughly filthy.
And now he was picturing her in a short checkered skirt and knee-high socks. Man, he really had reverted to schoolboy thoughts.
“Anyway, a client just walked in, Bill. I gotta go.” Aaron waited while Bill wound up the conversation, using the time to cleanse his mind of dirty imaginings involving the woman sitting across from him. It was bad enough last time that she’d seen how strongly she affected him. If he let her see it again, she’d know he could be reduced to putty in her hands, if she was so inclined.
But then, maybe Trevor had a point. What a way to go.
At last he got rid of Bill and hung up the phone. He turned his full attention to Jasmine. “Well, hello again.”
“How are things, AJ?”
AJ. It was what his pop had called him when he was a kid, what some had called him in school, so it always made Aaron feel about twelve years old. Considering he felt a little like a pubescent boy with his first boner, Aaron figured he probably deserved the assignation right now. “All good with me, Jas. You?”
“Good. Great.” She drummed her fingernails on her knee and bit her lip. “Actually no, I’m not that great.”
Aaron’s smile dropped a little as her words sunk in. “Why—what’s wrong?”
“Business is slow.” Jasmine gestured through the glass, where they could both see Summer’s Retreat. “My sister’s business.”
“We’re heading into the cooler months. Everyone’s business slows down a bit.”
“Not yours,” Jasmine noted. “I hear AJ Sanderson’s is booming.”
“I wouldn’t say booming, not in this property market.” Aaron tried not to be thrilled that she’d apparently been asking about him. “But we do okay.”
“I hear you’ve turned into a savvy businessman. Like your father.”
Aaron was sure she’d meant it as a compliment, so he didn’t deny it even though every cell in his body wanted to protest the comparison. He’d taken over AJ Sanderson’s when his father retired last year, he sat in the same office his father had inhabited for much of his career. The comparisons were inevitable.
Usually he let them roll off his back like water. For some reason it bugged him that Jasmine, of all people, thought he was like Andrew Sanderson, even though she could have no concept of the man’s faults.
“I prefer to think I’m my own man.”
Jasmine’s face fell. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”
Aaron realized he hadn’t masked his irritation well. He held up a hand. “Sorry. The comparisons get a little old sometimes.”
“I can understand that.”
Aaron remembered how people—people like his mother and her friends—used to say what a shame it was that Rex Campbell’s eldest daughter showed no signs of the same ambition or intelligence that her father or her sister possessed. He felt like a spoiled prick. His dad hadn’t been perfect, but despite what went on behind the scenes people generally admired him. By association, Aaron had been afforded the same level of respect. The comparisons to his father might bug him from time to time, but at least they didn’t have the power to demoralize him.
Aaron wondered if Jasmine had ever been demoralized by what people said. If she had, she’d never shown it. But as Aaron well knew, people put on fronts all the time.
“So the thing is, I came to ask for your help.”
From the way she clenched her hands together in her lap, Aaron could tell that had been a very difficult sentence for Jasmine to utter. He sat forward and put his elbows on his desk. “What can I do for you?”
Three hurting hearts. Too many secrets. One chance to conquer their fears.
Rocky Mountain Freedom
© 2013 Vivian Arend
Six Pack Ranch, Book 6
Over the past year, Travis Coleman lost the two people he allowed closest to his heart. Both gave him ultimatums—then left. Hell if he needs that kind of pain again. Time to move forward without the friends he thought might save him from his dangerous cravings.
When Ashley Sims returns to Rocky Mountain House, her rambling lifestyle isn’t all she’s hoping to change. Travis snagged a piece of her, and while getting tangled in his issues again might be crazy, she hasn’t given up on him.
Nine months ago, Cassidy Jones walked away to stop his best friend from making a huge mistake. Temptation lingers, though, and when Travis shows up on his turf accompanied by a sensually uninhibited woman, the combination tosses fuel on the banked fire.
Passion flares among the three of them, as hot as the summer days. But are they willing to push the limits, and fight for love?
Warning: Dirty fighting, dirty talk, dirtier sex—secrets are coming out. Get ready for ménage a trois and cowboy-on-cowboy action, with ropes and crops and the kind of relentless love strong enough to set a man free.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Rocky Mountain Freedom:
Time to face the music. Cassidy stepped from the shadows and made his way toward the lot. Travis turned toward him, his welcoming smile fading rapidly to dismay.
“Cassidy? What—?”
He snapped his mouth sh
ut and glanced away. Lips tight, obviously fighting a rush of anger.
Shit. “That answers my first question. I wondered if you knew I was working the camp for the summer.”
Travis took a deep breath before stepping forward. “You bastard.”
Cassidy laughed. “Nice to see you again too, T.”
“Screw that noise.” Travis abandoned his bag to the ground at their side and got right in Cassidy’s face. “What the fuck?”
“I’m head wrangler. Your cousin hired me.”
Travis shook his head. “I meant what the fuck were you thinking? You were there and then you were gone. Not a trace, not a note. I had no idea what had happened. You could have been dead in some ditch for all I knew.”
“I told you I was going.”
Hands slammed onto his shoulders, fingers closing into fists as Travis grabbed his jean jacket. He leaned in, their faces only inches from each other. “You said I couldn’t have what I wanted. You didn’t tell me you were going to fucking pack up your life and never come back. Asshole.”
Cassidy stiffened his spine and refused to give in to the urge to wrap his arms around his friend and hold on tight. Focused on the job—on what he’d have to do to make it through the summer in one piece without giving in to what Travis had demanded.
Focused on what he’d have to do to avoid falling for him hard.
There was one question to ask straight out. “You want me to quit working for Trailblazers?”
“Not my damn choice.” Travis released his grasp so quickly Cassidy rocked on his feet.
He probably deserved a little of this bullshit. “I’m sorry I didn’t give you a warning. I only got the news you were coming in Karen’s place two days ago.”
“It was a last-minute decision.”
“I figured.” Time to change tack. Maybe if they pretended they were meeting for the first time, they would survive at least a few days without blowing up. Cassidy pointed over his shoulder. “You’ve got a place of your own here to set up. I can show you around, introduce you to the crew tonight. Tomorrow we can ride to Second Camp.”
Travis picked up his bag and settled it on his shoulder again. “Fine. Only let’s wait until Ashley arrives. She was only a few minutes behind me.”
Ashley?
“Oh, the photographer. Right—Karen sent word about her as well.” Good, Travis seemed to be game for changing the topic. “We won’t have many guests for the first while, so I figured she could bunk in one of the guest tents.”
Travis flashed his grin, all cocky and bright again. Warning signals instantly went off in Cassidy’s brain.
“Oh, you don’t need to find her another space. She’ll be bunking with me.”
A dart of jealousy slammed him in the gut. Cassidy beat the sensation down with a firm fist as quick as possible. He pasted on a smile. “Single cot in your cabin.”
Travis raised a brow. “We’ll figure something out.”
Bastard.
Cassidy turned toward the parking lot, deliberately ignoring Travis’s gloating expression. The sinking sensation in his stomach was stupid. This was great news. If Travis was fooling around with some woman, Cassidy had nothing to worry about. Simple.
So why do I feel as if I’ve been kicked?
He shoved his confusion aside and instead focused on the throwback-to-the-hippy-generation van rolling into the parking lot. The ancient vehicle with the artsy paint job was like something out of a sixties magazine. The blonde who stepped from the driver door twirled, her bright gypsy skirt flaring around her as she raised her arms to the sky and squealed happily.
She was wearing beaded sandals, and Cassidy laughed. “Damn, Travis, did you use a time machine to pick her up?”
Cassidy’s taunts fell away as she continued to pivot, the sunlight shining through her thin garments. Fabric pressed against her soft curves highlighting her feminine form with its high breasts and smooth upper arms. She faced them and another jolt hit hard. The woman wasn’t the most beautiful he’d ever seen, but she wore a smile full of mischief, her lively gaze darting around the area to take in everything. Full, sensual lips combined with high cheekbones. He could imagine digging his fingers into the thick mass of her blonde hair and fisting it tight, tugging to expose her long neck for kisses all along the smooth column down to the soft skin bared by the V neckline of her top.
He was staring, he knew he was, but Cassidy was too caught up in admiration to care.
Until Travis cleared his throat.
Fuck it. Cassidy tore his gaze off the woman’s curved waistline, off the hips he was already imagining catching hold of and—
“Ash, come meet the head wrangler.” Travis’s grin taunted Cassidy. “Cassidy, this is Ashley Sims.”
The wild gypsy woman lifted her eyes, and Cassidy was tossed into a cloudless Alberta sky. In her gaze the full heat of a summer day blazed down on him as she checked him over far more blatantly than his examination a moment earlier.
She hummed happily and held out a hand. “Well, well. You feel the urge to round anything up, give me a shout. I’d love to see you in action with a rope.”
Cassidy jerked to a stop, her fingers already in his, not quite sure how to respond to that comment as he accepted her firm handshake.
Travis rolled his eyes. “You want him to strip so you can look him over a little closer?”
Instead of blushing or getting embarrassed, Ashley’s eyes lit brighter. “You’re a genius, Travis.”
She stepped forward and closed the space between them, and Cassidy found his chin captured by a set of strong feminine fingers as she examined him up close and personal. “You’ve got an amazing jawline,” Ashley noted. “And the two-day stubble? Rawr. Totally perfect. I could easily snap a dozen shots of you.”
Cassidy stood like a statue as she traced fingers over his face, her gaze tightening in focus as a tickle moved over his skin.
He wasn’t sure what the protocol was for being checked out by an artist. “Umm, well, I don’t have a problem with photos. Karen told me you were going to give Trailblazers help with next year’s brochures.”
Ashley touched the corner of his temple, brushing her fingers up and into his hair as she traced the scar she’d discovered. His hat fell to the ground behind him, but she had him trapped, unable to move away from her captivating touch. “I like that you’re not perfect. You’ve got a few bumps and bruises to go with the pretty blond hair and those gorgeous green eyes.” She peered in closer, tugging on his neck to get him to bend. “You’re not wearing coloured contacts, are you?”
Cassidy felt a smile breaking out in spite of the crazy situation. “Nope, ma’am, just me.”
Ashley patted his cheek then let him go. “You’re nice. I like you.”
“He’s an ass,” Travis cut in. “But you can still like him.”
Ashley blew a raspberry at Travis. Before Cassidy could bend to recover his hat, she’d swooped in and knelt at his feet, reaching up to pass it back. “Sorry. I get a little enthusiastic at times.”
Cassidy fought to stop from peering down the front of her blouse, the creamy scoop of her breasts right there and exposed. He cleared his throat and willed his body to stop reacting like some bloody teenage boy. “No problem. I like people who get into their work.”
Ashley glanced between the two men as she regained her feet. “Hmm. Travis, come here.”
She tugged him forward, and Cassidy found himself standing inches away from Travis as Ashley looked them over intently.
Travis sighed. “You want to get unpacked before you start making mischief, sweetheart?”
Ashley shook her head. “Mischief first, last and always. You know that.”
Being this close to Travis made Cassidy nervous, and he shifted his feet to ease away slightly. “If you’re ready, I can show you where you’ll be staying.”<
br />
She didn’t seem to hear, she was too busy examining him and Travis. “I definitely need you two in shots together. God, you’ve got that angel/devil thing going on. Darkness and light, sinner and saint—”
“And we both know who the sinner is,” Travis drawled.
Her smile bloomed again, gaze darting between their faces. “I don’t know. Maybe Cassidy is one of the fallen-angel types. Looks like heaven and knows exactly how to get you to paradise.”
Travis laughed, the sound breaking over them like a waterfall. Encompassing them, ready to sweep them away. He’d shifted position, and now stood close enough his body heat brushed Cassidy.
Between Ashley’s provocative words and Travis being…Travis, Cassidy was walking a thin line of control. He took a couple of deliberate steps away and adjusted his hat. “I really need to get back to work.”
Travis’s cocky expression screamed an accusation. “We don’t want to keep you from anything important.”
Cassidy bit back the urge to call him an asshole.
A shadow crossed Ashley’s face as she stepped closer to Travis’s side, her intuitive gaze not missing anything. “Do you guys know each other?”
One three-alarm night ignites a firestorm of complications…
Erica’s Choice
© 2012 Sami Lee
High school teacher Erica Shannon isn’t a one-night stand kind of girl. Pair that with an aversion to relationships, and she’s resigned to no love life at all. Then one horrifying discovery propels her off her take-no-risks path, and into the arms of the stars of her midnight fantasies.
When his friend and fellow firefighter threatens to make a move on Erica, Corey figures he’d better get over the notion that she’s way out of his league—fast—before he has to stand in line.
