NO LIMIT (7-Stud Club Book 2)

by Christ Ridgway

  Table of Contents

  NO LIMIT

  Also Available

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Excerpt – OUR LAST FIRST KISS

  Christie Ridgway’s Book List

  About the Author

  NO LIMIT

  7-Stud Club Book 2

  By Christie Ridgway

  Also Available

  All In (7-Stud Club Book 1)

  No Limit (7-Stud Club Book 2)

  Ante Up (7-Stud Club Book 3), Coming soon!

  Our Last First Kiss (Heartbreak Hotel Book 1)

  Me and Mr. Jones (Heartbreak Hotel Book 2)

  My Quickie Wedding (Heartbreak Hotel Book 3)

  We Belong Together (Heartbreak Hotel Book 4), Coming soon!

  Almost Wonderful (Almost Book 1)

  Almost Always (Almost Book 2)

  Almost Everything (Almost Book 3)

  Almost Paradise (Almost Book 4)

  Take Me Tender (Billionaire’s Beach Book 1)

  Take Me Forever (Billionaire’s Beach Book 2)

  Take Me Home (Billionaire’s Beach Book 3)

  The Scandal (Billionaire’s Beach Book 4)

  The Seduction (Billionaire’s Beach Book 5)

  The Secret (Billionaire’s Beach Book 6)

  One Look (One & Only Book 1)

  One Kiss (One & Only Book 2)

  One Night (One & Only Book 3)

  One Love (One & Only Book 4)

  Light My Fire (Rock Royalty Book 1)

  Love Her Madly (Rock Royalty Book 2)

  Break on Through (Rock Royalty Book 3)

  Touch Me (Rock Royalty Book 4)

  Wishful Sinful (Rock Royalty Book 5)

  Wild Child (Rock Royalty Book 6)

  Who Do You Love (Rock Royalty Book 7)

  Love Me Two Times (Rock Royalty Book 8)

  Make Him Wild (Intoxicating Book 1)

  Make Him Want (Intoxicating Book 2)

  Make Him Stay (Intoxicating Book 3)

  NO LIMIT

  Seven Poker Night buddies are very good with their hands…and are about to lose their hearts! Each one comes to learn that only great risk leads to great reward…

  Eli King’s future looks bright. After a decade raising his orphaned sisters, the last are about to leave home and leave him finally able to indulge in a free-and-easy bachelorhood that’s always been out of reach. But one rainy night a knock on his door announces the arrival of a beautiful single mom in need…the very type of knot Eli’s sure he doesn’t want to get tangled in. But can he ignore Sloane Clarke’s smokin’ body and engaging smile, even though she comes with a little girl and responsibilities certain to tie him down?

  Sloane takes her single parenthood very seriously and knows it doesn’t allow room for romance—or even sex. But when a leaky roof sends her to the hot and tempting man across the street, a woman can’t help her mind heading off in that direction. But her heart’s too smart to give itself to a guy who’s bent on playing the field…unless Eli proves to be the kind of irresistible that even the wariest can’t withstand.

  NO LIMIT – 7-Stud Club Book 2

  © Copyright 2019 Christie Ridgway

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  ISBN: 9781939286482

  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.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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  Chapter 1

  The evening of card play over, Eli King walked the last of his poker buddies, Maddox Kelly, toward his home’s large foyer. Six feet from the front door, they halted, staring at the obstacle directly ahead. On a floral hooked rug—handcrafted by the second oldest of Eli’s four younger sisters, a fine arts major—sat a jumbled mass of duffels, wheeled suitcases, toiletry kits, and shopping bags filled to the brim with who-knew-what.

  Maddox slanted him a glance. “Is it like mold? I swear that pile grew in the four hours since I walked in and managed—with my superior skill—to win sixty smackers off you.”

  “Welcome to life with a household of women,” Eli muttered, carefully skirting a sloppy heap of scarves and hats so he could reach the worn brass knob. The porch light shone through the lace covering the windowed half of the door, a curtain Sister #2 had sewn during her seamstress phase. “And I lost that final hand because I was distracted by your last girlfriend. She texted to lament your repulsive, troll-like features.”

  They grinned at each other as Eli drew open the door, letting in the chill of a mid-April night in Sawyer Beach, a central California coastal town. Maddox sauntered over the threshold then paused to look back. “What are you going to do with yourself when all four of them head out on that road trip tomorrow?”

  Eli barely resisted rubbing his palms together in gleeful anticipation. “Two weeks without needing to herd four females with four distinct minds of their own? I’ve been planning my time since last spring break.”

  “Do tell.”

  “Engaging in bachelor behaviors that any other normal, red-blooded twenty-nine-year-old man enjoys.”

  “Ah.” Maddox said, nodding. “Eating Slim Jim sticks for breakfast and pawing through the pile of dirty laundry to find a pair of socks that might possibly pass the smell test?”

  Eli’s lip curled. “It must suck to be you. I’m talking about some social life, Mad. Late nights. Even staying up, maybe, to greet the dawn.”

  “Greet the dawn,” his friend repeated, smirking. His forefinger shot out to point at Eli, center-mass. “You’re talking about sex. It’s been a long dry spell, huh?”

  As if he’d admit it. Though it was over 300 days since he’d shared sheets with a woman, not that he was counting. “Look, I’m only willing to say that I have some ideas about how to fill my after-work hours.” Getting away from the nursery business in the spring season was a no-go, he’d discovered. Last year, he’d gone on a guys’ trip for ten days and returned to a surfeit of staffing and supply snafus.

  “Well, you have my number if you need bail, condoms, or advice,” Maddox said, “though I hope not in that order.”

  Having a good friend employed by the local police department wasn’t something to joke about. “Yeah, thanks.”

  With a final wave, Maddox headed into the night, leaving Eli to yank out his phone for a quick check of the time. Nearly eleven p.m., and four sisters not yet tucked into bed. They must have added to the mountain of belongings on their way out for the evening, while he was deep in poker play with the six friends that had gathered together for a weekly game since their stint in high school Auto Shop.

  In the dining room, he collected the bags of non-greasy snacks left on the sideboard and walked them into the kitchen. It was a large space, with lots of counters and cabinets, a farmhouse sink, and a built-in bench along with table and chairs for seating. His buddy Hart Sawyer, who led a construction business, told him he should knock out a couple of walls to modernize the place, but Eli was leaving that to the
next owner.

  As soon as the sixteen-year-old twins, Lynnie and Molly, left for college, he had the approval of the four girls to sell the family homestead. They’d all been there since their births, not moving even when their parents died in a car accident eleven years before. But his sisters claimed not to possess a sentimental attachment and the place was going to be too big for just one bachelor bent on claiming a single life. A single life put on hold since he took over for Mom and Dad as head of the King household.

  The dishwasher was on its last legs, but Eli optimistically filled it with glassware and the utensils and bowls they’d used to eat his famous chili. The host of poker night provided dinner and drinks for the crowd while the crowd contributed during-play edibles that wouldn’t leave a stain on the cards. Somebody had brought gummy bears—most likely Boone, because he had a soft spot for Eli’s sisters and would have purchased their favorite—so Eli rolled down the top of the bag and secured it with a rubber band then tossed it onto the kitchen table. Tomorrow he’d tuck it into the center console of Nora’s small SUV, the car they were taking on their drive to Seattle.

  The gummies slid across the surface of the table and fell to the floor, so he crossed to the bag with a grimace and swooped down for retrieval. He set the candy beside the map he’d picked up at the auto club—he’d joined when the first of the girls, Nora, got behind the wheel and there were now four King sister memberships. “God help us all,” he muttered, the same phrase he spoke aloud every time he thought of his youngest siblings driving.

  For a moment he hovered over the spread-out map and traced with his finger the route they’d take up the California coast and then into Oregon and Washington. He’d starred the two places he thought would make safe and enjoyable overnights along the way, despite the rolled eyes and nonstop gripes he’d received from Nora, Allison, Lynnie, and Molly.

  They could navigate themselves, they’d said. They had smartphones and cell service and a surfeit of brain matter. They didn’t need his guidance.

  They didn’t say they didn’t need him. The twins had been just shy of five, and the other two were nine and eleven when Eli had taken over the shopping and cooking and laundry. He’d been eighteen and already working near full-time at the family nursery. Instead of going away to college, he’d enrolled in classes at the local community college.

  But quickly lectures and readings had gone out the window for him and the only homework he’d become dedicated to was the homework assigned to his sisters. Sure, at times it had felt like a burden, but he’d never considered the girls themselves a burden.

  Now they were growing up and eager to try out their wings.

  Meaning it was his turn to fly.

  Full flight wasn’t for another year-plus, when Lynnie and Molly moved into dorms, but he was going to take a practice run these next two weeks. Smiling at his own eagerness, he folded the map and set the gummy bears on top of it. The feeling was a little like Christmas Eve, he realized, during those years when his folks were alive, before it was he who was staying up all night wrapping presents, assembling toys, and scarfing down the treats left out for Santa.

  The squeal and bang of the front door opening and shutting snagged his attention. Footsteps sounded, some tramping up the stairs, another quick set heading for him and the kitchen.

  Molly swung through the entry from the hallway, her cheeks flushed and small wisps of hair escaping the long French braid hanging over one shoulder. He’d taught himself how to achieve that style through internet how-to videos years ago. Now the girls could manage it themselves or had a sister or friend attend to the task.

  He didn’t miss it, he told himself.

  “Bro,” Molly said by way of greeting, heading for the refrigerator.

  “Sis,” he replied, smiling at her back. He didn’t have favorites, but Mol was the one who invariably checked in with him whenever she got home.

  “Did you win tonight?” his youngest sister asked, sliding out a colander of washed grapes and plucking a few of the green fruit free.

  “Of course,” he lied. A big brother had a rep to maintain.

  She sent him a suspicious glance over her shoulder. But he had practice at this, too. The kid had believed in the tooth fairy way beyond the ordinary use-by date.

  Pulling out his phone, he tapped to his notes app. “Who came in with you?”

  Molly turned, gave him an eye roll that he was also long familiar with. “Dude,” she said, in a censuring tone.

  “What?”

  “Please.” She shook her head. “Tell me you’re not checking us off like you usually do.”

  “What part of ‘like I usually do’ doesn’t compute?”

  “That stupid list you make every time we walk out the door is annoying,” Molly declared, in the tone of aggrieved teenagers everywhere. “And then when you make a mark once we get back home…well, that’s so Captain von Trapp.”

  It wasn’t like he could miss a Sound of Music reference, since it had been his littlest sister’s favorite movie from ages four to ten. “You know, that’s sparked a good idea,” he said. “I could assign you each your own whistle. When you come in, you just make the sound and I’ll hear it from wherever I am in the house, check you off that way.”

  Molly sighed, as he’d expected. Then she laughed, which he’d also expected. “You’re weird.”

  “The goal of all big brothers everywhere,” he said. “Add overprotective and I’ll sleep like a baby.”

  “Make that really weird,” Molly replied, and returned the colander to the refrigerator. “I’m going upstairs now. And before you ask, all four of us came in together.”

  “Great.” Eli didn’t bother trying to hide the fact that he registered each girl’s return on his phone. “Have a good rest,” he said, as she approached to kiss his cheek good night.

  “We’re off early in the morning,” Molly reminded him. “I’d say you don’t have to get up to see us go, but why waste my breath?”

  He grinned. “Yes, why?” And laughed as that got him the trifecta—rolled eyes, shaking head, and gusty sigh. As he turned off the kitchen light, he listened to her clamber up the stairs, and then began walking through the first floor to flip other switches and double-check the locks.

  At last, he stood in the foyer again, frowning at the pile, which seemed to have grown another two feet in all directions. Where did all that stuff come from? The oldest two had apartments at college and surely they’d left at least some of their belongings there.

  Ah, well. If they’d have a better spring break dragging everything they owned along with them, what did he care? It equaled, as a matter of fact, a better spring break for him.

  Thinking of the personal freedom lying ahead, he cast aside his worries over his four younger siblings and their imminent adventure.

  “Carpe diem,” he murmured, his mood as free as he was going to be in about six hours when he waved them on their way. Carpe diem was going to be his mantra. Seize the day and enjoy the hell out of each unfettered moment. The only thing that would hold him down, he decided, would be some willing lady wanting to ride him, cowgirl-style.

  Smiling at the thought, he reached to turn off the porch light. But before his fingers found the switch, a knock sounded on the door. His head snapped toward the glass and through the lace he detected the shadow of a form.

  Slight form.

  Female.

  He frowned. Who was out in the cold at this time of night?

  Instinct clamored at him. It could mean trouble, it said. Something that might dampen all this sense of pleasure-in-the-offing. Ignore the summons.

  But instead he smothered the inner voice and did what he’d been doing for the last eleven years—Eli stepped up.

  The squeal of the hinges sounded like a second warning as he swung open the front door. At the bottom of the steps stood a woman, and at the look of her his body tensed, in an instant his muscles and nerves going on high, pulsing alert. Danger danger danger.


  Which made no sense, because she was dressed in sneakers, jeans, and a long-sleeved T-shirt with scattered bleach stains. Even now she took a couple of steps back and the landscape lighting caught on a gleaming cap of blonde curls. She looked innocent. Innocuous.

  Like an angel.

  Eli suppressed an acute urge to slam the door in her face.

  * * *

  From her position halfway between the porch and her car, Sloane Clarke stared up at the lean, muscled man framed by his front door. A wash of heat prickled across her scalp and headed southward. Not good. She took a quick health assessment, concerned she might be coming down with something.

  Single mothers didn’t have such a luxury.

  But swallowing proved her throat felt just fine and her head wasn’t hurting. No other bodily aches and pains. So, dismissing the moment, she smiled. “Hi, I’m Sloane?”

  Gah. It came out with an upward inflection, a sign of insecurity leftover from her growing-up years that she’d been determined motherhood would extinguish. And it had—not since an obstetric nurse had placed infant Paige—now almost four years old—into her arms had Sloane sounded so uncertain.

  Eli King, she decided, was to blame with the way he was looking at her with such grave eyes. And maybe some of the responsibility lay with the Parade of Hotties, too, the men she’d seen through her living room window drive up to his home tonight. A throng of good-looking guys weren’t common in her world of toddlers and spreadsheets.

  Now clearing her throat, she tried again, intending to project that, yes, she was quite certain of her very own name. “Sloane Clarke.”

  His head tilted, his shoulder-length hair shifting with the movement. The stuff was smooth, glossy, and actually appeared almost as long as her own, because the curl factor caused hers to shrink a couple of inches when dry. “Sloane,” Eli repeated.

  More feverish heat swept over her as he continued staring. She gestured vaguely behind her back, in the direction of the residence across the street. “I live over there,” she said, “across the road. The small cottage? It was a carriage house, I’ve been told, for another larger place, long since gone. But I like it. It’s enough space, really, because I don’t have a lot of stuff and I enjoy it out here, it feels almost rural but still close to town.” Realizing she was babbling, she forced her mouth to shut.