We’re celebrating the release of TWISTED TWOSOME by Meghan Quinn! Check out the excerpt below!

We’re celebrating the release of  TWISTED TWOSOME by Meghan Quinn! Check out the excerpt below!

TWISTED TWOSOME

NA Romantic Comedy

 Purchase: http://hyperurl.co/99udeh

Add to Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2uarCWF

 

From the first day I met Racer McKay, I knew our interaction was going to be incredibly brief. First impressions really do matter and unfortunately, I didn’t make a very good one.

At the time, I didn’t think much of it. I was never going to see this man again, right? 

Wrong! When I’m met with the opportunity of a lifetime, there is only one man in the state of New York who can assist me. And can you guess who it is? 

But what I don’t realize is he needs me just as much as I need him. I have money he’s desperate for, and he holds the key to making my dreams come true. 

So, we reluctantly join forces.

Our pranks turn from sarcastic banter, to sexual tension and lust-filled glances. Bickering matches quickly morph into slow burn moments. We’re hot, we’re cold. We push and pull. I need him, I don’t want him. We’re on the verge of combusting with an agreement dangling dangerously between us. Neither one of us can afford to lose one another and yet, we’re finding it quite hard to decipher the line that rests between love and hate.

*Twisted Twosome is a stand alone romantic comedy.

 

**GEORGIANA**

“So, are you ready for tonight?” Madison asks. 

 

The heat of the sun intensifies with the mention of tonight. It’s beating down on

me, building up the pressure, circling me in an inferno of what’s to come. 

 

Tonight. 

 

I don’t think I’ve ever been more nervous in my entire life. Even when I was

forced to go with Danny Leshay to senior prom because it was part of my

father’s business deal with a client. My dad buys out a lumberyard, and in

return, I have to go with the guy’s son to prom. Thoughts of being stabbed and

murdered on the side of the road by someone I didn’t know terrified me.

Thanks, Dad!

 

“I’m prepared but so freaking nervous.” I turn on my side and face Madison. “I

have that sinking feeling he’s going to say no.”

 

“How can he say no, G? You’ve run through your presentation a million times.

I’ve seen it. You are solid with all your numbers, with your projections; it’s an

easy yes.”

 

“To any other businessman, my presentation is an easy yes, but to my dad . . . I

have this horrible feeling it’s going to be a hard pass.”

 

And that’s the honest truth. He’s a good man, but when it comes to me, I’m his

little girl, not an aspiring entrepreneur. 

 

“You might be surprised.” Madison takes a big sip from her drink. “He wasn’t

happy at first about you going to Northwestern and earning your master’s in

business, but he changed his mind about that.”

 

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, because on paper, I’m more appealing to one of the

‘husbands’ my dad has chosen for me. An educated girl is a girl with goals and

motivation, one that will be able to participate with knowledgeable

commentary in dry, pointless conversations at charitable events. My entire life

leading to this point has been a long and drawn-out finishing school run, and

operated by my father, preparing me for the very moment I meet the one man I

can stand at his side, woo his clients, and be the trophy wife I’ve been morphed

into.” I set my drink on the table between us and rest my hands under my

cheek. “I want so much more, Madison.”

 

“If you had red hair and was brushing it with a fork right now, I would think

you were the little mermaid.”

 

“I’m serious.” I laugh just as cursing from a thousand men breaks up our little

conversation. 

 

From the side of the pool where renovations for the pool house are taking

place, the lone construction worker is holding his finger between his jean-clad

legs. 

 

Madison sits up and lifts her sunglasses to get a look at the commotion. “Did

you hammer a nail into your finger over there?”

 

The man who’s been working on the building for a few weekends looks up at

us. His head is covered by a backward black baseball cap, his chest is bronze

from working many hours outside this summer, and it’s hard not to notice the

corded muscles wrapped around his entire body, from his chiseled stomach to

his powerful biceps. To be honest, it hasn’t been a chore watching him these

last few weekends.

 

What’s-His- Name looks up and pops his finger in his mouth, sucking on it as

his body ripples under the brightness of the sun. 

 

“Damn,” Madison mutters under her breath just as the man pops his finger out

of his mouth. “Mama likes.”

 

Unable to hear Madison slowly discredit his self-respect, he gruffly says, “I’m

good.” Not giving us a second thought, he shakes his hand and turns back

toward his project. 

 

Never having spoken to the man—I’ve only seen him around—I cautiously say,

“You sure? Kind of looks like you’re hurt.”

 

Slowly he turns his head in my direction, his eyes cutting me a look of

indignation. “I’m good, Princess. No need to set your cocktail down to check

on me.”

 

Pardon me? Was that attitude?

 

I sit up, my legs straddling my lounge chair and tip my sunglasses up so he can

see my dissatisfaction in his choice of words. “It’s Georgiana, not princess.”

 

Picking up his hammer, he shoves it in a holster attached to his side and says,

“Could have fooled me.”

 

“Oooooo,” Madison says as if she’s in grade school. “Burned.” She sits back in

her chair, taking a sip of her drink as if she’s preparing for the show of a

lifetime, one she might just get. 

 

Slowly, I set my drink down and stand. I adjust the fabric of my swimsuit

bottom so it’s covering my ass and saunter over to the man, now sorting nails

as he casually glances in my direction. 

 

When I stand in front of him, I watch his eyes travel over my barely covered

frame until he meets me head-on. His staggering height doesn’t intimidate me,

even though he towers over my petite frame. He appears strong and powerful

with a hard set in his jaw. 

 

“What did you say?” I ask, a hand on my hip. 

 

Not giving me his complete attention, he says, “You heard what I said or else

you wouldn’t be over here trying to put on a front.”

 

“Put on a front?” My voice sounds a little shrill from the accusation. “I’m not

putting on a front.”

 

“Yeah?” He pulls a rag from his back pocket, lifts his hat, and wipes his brow.

His blond hair sticks up in all different directions with beads of sweat at the tips

that aren’t covered by his hat. “So you’re not trying to act intimidating in front

of your friend? You know, push around the hired help to make yourself feel

better?”

 

“Excuse me?” Two seconds ago I was irritated, now I’m mad. “How dare you

make such an awful accusation about me. You don’t know a thing about me.”

“I know enough,” he answers and turns around to nail another board for the

new siding. His incessant hammering has ensured a headache all morning.

 

“Hey.” I poke his sweaty back, trying to ignore how amazingly tight it feels

under my index finger. “I suggest if you want to keep your job you show a little

respect.”

 

Whoa, can we all say it together? Georgiana, you’re a bitch. The words felt

dirty leaving my mouth. I really don’t act like this, like my—gulp—parents, but

I’m tired, anxious about meeting with my dad, and irritated. It’s a cataclysmic

combination and when that happens, nothing good comes from it. I’m about to

apologize when he starts to go off on me. 

 

“Respect? You want to talk respect?” He spins on his heel and holds up his

hammer. “What do you know about respect, Princess? From where I see it, you

know nothing. Every weekend I’ve been here, you’ve ordered people around,

watching them wait on you hand and foot, complained about not having any

money, gossiped about every bad boob job in town, and have yet to be pleasant

to anyone who stands an inch beneath you.” He goes to hammer again but turns

around once more and says, “And the heels you just had to wear out to the pool

ripped a fucking hole in my nail gun hose, giving me no other option than to

nail these boards by hand, adding on time I can’t afford. So, Princess, excuse

me for upsetting you, but I’m sticking with the nickname. It fits you to a T. Oh,

and just so you know, sandals. Sandals are the proper footwear you should be

wearing around the pool.” He rolls his eyes, turns around, and starts hammering

another nail into the siding of the pool house. 

 

How dare he!

 

“That’s what you think I am? Some whiney brat?”

 

“If the unnecessary high heel fits, Princess.” 

 

Unsure of what to do. I stomp my foot and say, “Well, I’m not.” 

 

Pretty sure my reaction just solidified his assumption. 

 

“Tantrums don’t work on me; try your daddy.” He continues to hammer away,

his back muscles shimmering with each movement. 

 

“Maybe I will. We’ll see what he has to say about this little conversation.” 

He places another nail against the board and starts hammering. “Wouldn’t be

shocked if you did. You step on my hose, ruin my chances of getting this

project done today, which only prolongs my time here, cutting down on my

chance to make more money since I’m getting paid a flat rate, and now you

want to get me fired. Sounds about right. Can’t take the blame for anything.”

 

No one has ever been so disrespectful to me. 

 

“How was I supposed to know I stepped on your stupid hosey thing?”

 

“Maybe if you pay attention to people and objects around you, you may have

noticed.”

 

“You’re a jerk, you know that?” He has me all wrong, and it is really bothering

me that he pictures me as a spoiled, inconsiderate, self-consumed brat. That’s

not who I am at all. 

 

“How do you figure? Because the way I see it, you’re the jerk.” His body fully

turns around to face me, challenge in his eyes, maybe a bit of humor at the

corner of his lips as he awaits my answer. 

 

Holding my chin high, I say, “Because, instead of having a hissy fit like a

petulant child, you could have come over to me and said, ‘Miss Westbrook,

sorry to bother you, but you seem to have poked a hole in my hose.’ But instead

you decided to stew over here and then pick on me when I was trying to see if

you were okay from your inability to hammer a nail into a piece of wood

properly. It’s called being an adult.”

 

He studies me, hands on his hips, not showing any kind of reaction. “Being an

adult, huh? And you think you’re an expert at that?”

 

“I would say I’m well-versed in the topic.”

 

He nods, his teeth biting down on his lower lip as his eyes flick to where

Madison is sitting. “Well-versed, interesting. Tell me, when did adults start

eating dinosaur chicken nuggets for lunch?”

 

Just when I’m about to reply, Madison calls out, “Nuggies are ready, G. Come

eat T-Rex’s arms with me. Roar!” 

 

I shut my eyes tight, willing for this moment to disappear, maybe praying for

the ground to swallow me whole due to Madison’s poor timing. The infuriating

man says with a smile, “Your nuggies are ready, Princess. Don’t want them

getting cold.”

⭐ ⭐ ⭐ IT’S LIVE – ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ The MEAT MARKET Anthology

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📚Blurb 📚

When Jason Somers inherited the family butcher shop, he had no idea he was taking the helm of a sinking ship. With the help of his younger brother Jaxson, a plan emerged to save The Meat Market.

What better way to earn some extra cash than to target one of their biggest customer group’s most basic needs.

All they needed were some willing men and some clever marketing.

The Meat Market is now the go-to place to order prime cuts of meat, both for human consumption and companionship.

The women of Chicago know where the best cuts can be found.

Come into The Meat Market and order whatever looks appetizing.

Novels from Authors ➻

Sarah O’Rourke

ML Rodriguez

Riann C. Miller

S Van Horne

Winter Travers

Tracie Douglas

Gwyn McNamee

Trinity Rose

Mary B Moore

Mayra Statham

Surprise Cover Reveal

THE BEAUTIFUL NOW

M. Leighton

Coming September 26, 2017

 

Dane James worked my stepfather’s fields. He was the boy next door. 

 

Strong. 

Hardworking. 

Forbidden.

 

From the moment we met, we were star-crossed lovers—always wanting, never having. We loved each other for most of our lives, but right from the beginning Destiny had other plans.  She knew we would fall in love.  She knew we would fall apart.  Over and over again, like the curse of a recurring nightmare.  Or the hope of a familiar dream.  

 

Our past was tumultuous.  Our future was bleak.  But the one thing we always had was the beautiful now.

 

Until that was taken from us, too.

SIGN UP FOR MY NEWSLETTER TO GET AN EMAIL THE MINUTE IT GOES LIVE:  http://smarturl.it/MLeightonNews 

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Enforce by Rachel Van Dyken is FREE for a limited time only!

Nixon knows that Trace, the beautiful new student at Eagle Elite University, is totally off-limits — but he can’t help wanting to claim her… An explosive romance from a #1 New York Times bestselling author!

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Are you ready for Racer?

We’re celebrating the release of  TWISTED TWOSOME by Meghan Quinn!

 

 

TWISTED TWOSOME
NA Romantic Comedy

 Purchase: http://hyperurl.co/99udeh

Add to Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2uarCWF

From the first day I met Racer McKay, I knew our interaction was going to be incredibly brief. First impressions really do matter and unfortunately, I didn’t make a very good one.

At the time, I didn’t think much of it. I was never going to see this man again, right?

Wrong! When I’m met with the opportunity of a lifetime, there is only one man in the state of New York who can assist me. And can you guess who it is?

But what I don’t realize is he needs me just as much as I need him. I have money he’s desperate for, and he holds the key to making my dreams come true.

So, we reluctantly join forces.

Our pranks turn from sarcastic banter, to sexual tension and lust-filled glances. Bickering matches quickly morph into slow burn moments. We’re hot, we’re cold. We push and pull. I need him, I don’t want him. We’re on the verge of combusting with an agreement dangling dangerously between us. Neither one of us can afford to lose one another and yet, we’re finding it quite hard to decipher the line that rests between love and hate.

 

 

*Twisted Twosome is a stand alone romantic comedy.

 

 

 

Excerpt:

“Thanks for lunch, I haven’t had a fine peanut butter and jelly sandwich in quite some time.” Racer takes a giant bite from one of three sandwiches I made him. The man can eat; I just want to know where he puts it all. “What is this, crunchy peanut butter?” He looks over the sandwich, studying it intently.
“Yes, it’s crunchy with mixed berry jam.”
He nods and takes another bite. He talks with his mouth full, which for some weird reason makes him oddly adorable. “Nice touch, George. The peanuts add a nice texture.”
“Are you going all food critic on my PB and J skills right now?”
Lifting his shirt, he dabs away some of the sweat that’s collecting on his forehead, beneath his backward hat. His abs flex with the movement, drawing my attention. Each divot calling out to me to touch, to examine . . . to lick.
“I think every human should be judged on their PB and J skills.”
I pull my eyes away from his stomach just in time not to get caught staring. “Why do you think that?”
“Because,” he takes another bite, “I think building a peanut butter and jelly sandwich is in everyone’s repertoire, but only the truly skilled know how to make a proper one. And I want to be friends with the truly skilled.”
“Is that so?” I take a drink of my green tea and study him for a second, watching the way the muscles in his jaw move with each bite and swallow. It’s sexy.
His neck is sexy? Is that possible?
“So where do I land on your scale of sandwich artists?”
He smiles from my term, and I realize how much I adore his boyish charm. Pulling his eyes away from me, he examines one of the sandwiches I made him and starts assessing it. “Good ratio of peanut butter to jelly. Nice choice in bread. The crunch you added has been a pleasant surprise, and the mixed berry jam is fucking delightful.” I giggle from his girly term. “But . . .”
I perk up; there’s a but? “But what?”
He quirks his mouth to the side, almost to say, “Sorry, but you’re not quite perfect.” “The bread, it should have been toasted. Toasting it would have taken you to boss level when it comes to the PB and J.”
“Toasting it?”
He nods and takes another bite. “When you don’t toast a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, the peanut butter and bread form a paste on the roof of your mouth. Even though it tastes good, it can get quite irritating.”
“But I didn’t have a toaster.”
“Rookie mistake.”
“Well, If I knew I was going to be critiqued, I would have sprung for bacon.”
He pauses mid bite and stares at me over his sandwich. “You’re a beast for bringing up the option.”
I polish off the rest of my sandwich and wipe my fingers. “Well, maybe next time you’ll communicate expectations better. I’m not a mind reader, Racer. Frankly, the fact I didn’t make boss level is on you, not me.”
I stand and gather my trash as he stares me down. “Don’t you turn this on me. You didn’t have a toaster. The toaster is what’s key. This is on you, Georgie. This is on you!” he calls out as I make my way to the back, laughing to myself the entire time.
About the Author:
Born in New York and raised in Southern California, Meghan has grown into a sassy, peanut butter eating, blonde haired swearing, animal hoarding lady. She is known to bust out and dance if “It’s Raining Men” starts beating through the air and heaven forbid you get a margarita in her, protect your legs because they may be humped.
Once she started commuting for an hour and twenty minutes every day to work for three years, she began to have conversations play in her head, real life, deep male voices and dainty lady coos kind of conversations. Perturbed and confused, she decided to either see a therapist about the hot and steamy voices running through her head or start writing them down. She decided to go with the cheaper option and started writing… enter her first novel, Caught Looking.
Now you can find the spicy, most definitely on the border of lunacy, kind of crazy lady residing in Colorado with the love of her life and her five, furry four legged children, hiking a trail or hiding behind shelves at grocery stores, wondering what kind of lube the nervous stranger will bring home to his wife. Oh and she loves a good boob squeeze!
Find me on Goodreads:

 

Cassy Maria’s Review of Twisted Twosome

Meghan a Quinn has done it again!!! Twisted Twosome is beyond amazing!
Georgiana is not the wealthy snob everyone makes her out to be, she dreams of making it on her own and opening her own business. Enter Racer McKay, from the moment the two meet sparks fly and they butt heads but when Georgiana’s father blacklists her from using contractors, Racer is the only one who can help her out. Racer needs money and taking second jobs is the way to get it, but working for the sexy as hell Georgie is going to be harder on him then he expected. There really is a fine line between love and hate.
Alright I need to find a Racer of my own, Meghan Quinn has written the perfect book boyfriend in Racer, he’s sweet, sexy and good with his hands. Let me tell you the chemistry between Georgie and Racer is phenomenal the banter is priceless. I loved seeing some familiar faces and meeting some new lovable characters. In true Meghan Quinn style Twisted Twosome is a laugh out loud romantic comedy but also have Kleenex on hand while reading is at it brings on all the feels and you will be crying. Twisted Twosome really has been one of my favourite reads this year and I cannot wait for more.

 

Chapter Reveal

Chapter Reveal – In the Crease (Assassins #12) by Toni Aleo

Coming August 22nd

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Jensen Monroe is a unicorn. As handsome as any model, as polite as can be, a goalie of unmatched skill, and the best friend anyone could ask for. But he longs for a particular special someone to make his life complete. He’s been in love with Wren since he was a teenager, but as his best friend’s sister, she’s always been off-limits.

Wren Lemiere has prided herself on being a love ’em and leave ’em girl her whole life. She’s all about equal opportunity in the battle of the sexes. Why should guys like her brother and his best friends get to be the only ones allowed to play the dating game? One wrong move, however, and she finds herself in violation of her own rules.

In need of a fake husband and baby daddy for her unexpected bundle of joy, Wren finally accepts Jensen is the logical one to ask for help. Except he has a counteroffer…one with so many strings attached, they may just find themselves wrapped up in ties that bind. Forever.

Prologue

Five months earlier…

Wren Lemiere felt awful.
The kind of awful where you felt like you were dying.
Not that she had ever been the victim of an almost-death, but she was pretty sure it felt like what she was feeling.
Why she came back home to Colorado when she was this godforsakenly sick was beyond her, but then she hadn’t felt like death when she got on the plane. It was once she got off and for the following three days that the death hit her. She didn’t know what was going on, but she just wanted some drugs to make the excruciating nausea go away. That was all. Just some drugs.
Holding her face in her hands, she inhaled a deep breath before letting it out in a whoosh, begging the turning of her gut to stop. She wasn’t sure what she ate or what bacteria she picked up, but when she found out whatever did this to her, they would suffer. Slowly and painfully. It was probably Vaughn, her brother’s best friend. He was a walking cesspool. Ugh. She had never been so sick in her life, she swore it, but then again, that time she had the flu, she was sure she’d thought the same.
Either way, she was dying.
Plain and simple.
“Ugh,” she moaned as she swallowed back the bile that was threatening to come up her throat. When the door opened and the doctor stepped in, she cried out in relief. “Please, give me something. Anything. Knock me out if you have to.”
Ryan Churner laughed. They had gone to school together, dated briefly, but they’d been just kids. Now, he was married and happy—with lots of kids of his own. Wren, though, was living the single, carefree life. Much to her mother’s dismay. Her mother wanted grandbabies, and since her brother, Wells, was gay, it was easy to say it was Wren’s job to give her mother babies. Which was not going to happen. Wren would suck as a mom. Plus, she couldn’t find a decent guy to love her large ass. So that left her brother, and Wells could adopt. Yeah, he should do that. Take some of the pressure off her. She needed to call him about that.
“I’m afraid there are no drugs for what you have.”
Wren threw up her hands. “It’s a virus?”
He laughed. She didn’t like the sound of that laugh. Or the way he said, “Um, no.”
Her face wrinkled in confusion. “Then, what?”
He grimaced a bit before looking up at her. His dark blue eyes held her gaze as a grin pulled at his lips. “When was your last period?”
She shrugged. “Like six months ago. I have polycystic ovary syndrome, though.” She added while pointing at him, “Not sure that’s in my chart.”
He nodded. “It is, but I hadn’t realized it had been that long.”
“Yeah.” She had maybe two periods a year, possibly three. It was a problem, but her problem. One she was blessed with when she was younger. Her PCOS kept her a little on the thicker side and also wreaked havoc on her hormones, but she managed. She wasn’t going to let it bring her down or dwell on it. She already did that enough.
“Okay, well, are you in a relationship right now?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Are you sexually active?”
“Always,” she said with an exaggerated wink. Then she paused. “Wait, I’m not hitting on you.”
“I know.” He laughed and she grinned, though, it was brief before she felt a wave of queasiness. “But your pregnancy test came up positive.”
Wren could only blink as her body went cold. She started laughing because surely, she’d heard him wrong. “You weren’t this funny when we were younger.”
“I’m not joking.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Your pregnancy test came up positive, but sometimes with PCOS, you can get a positive result. So I want to do an ultrasound.”
“For what?”
“To see if you’re pregnant.”
“Pregnant? Me?”
“Yes.”
“But…really?”
“Yes,” he said with a smile before he stood, walking to the door. “Well, usually when you have sex, a baby can be made as a byproduct of all that passion.”
“But…” She trailed off, her heart jumping into her throat. Surely that wasn’t the case. She couldn’t be pregnant. They’d used protection. “I have sex with condoms, and I’m on birth control.”
“Are you consistent with your birth control?
She shrugged. “Sure.”
He raised an eyebrow. “That’s not believable, Wren.”
Her face wrinkled more as he called out to the nurse. Sitting there, she tried to remember when this could have happened. She was home last month and had seen him…a lot and all of him, but they’d used condoms. Hadn’t they? Shit.
Soon a cart was brought in, and she was asked to take off her pants. It was all a blur, lying there with a drape over her bottom half and Ryan shoving some damn probe up inside her. Staring at the ceiling, she didn’t know what to think. She hadn’t even thought this was a possibility. With her PCOS, it was supposed to be hard for her to get pregnant. Not to mention, she didn’t want to be a mom. She would suck as a mom. And he would suck as a dad. They were selfish.
“Yup, there it is.”
Turning her head, she looked at the screen to see a little peanut. Seriously, a peanut, or at least, that’s what she assumed it was. But in the middle of the peanut was a little flicker. It was so small, almost undetectable, but she was sure she could see it. Was that the heartbeat?
“That’s it? I’m pregnant?”
“You’re pregnant.”
Blinking hard, she gasped. “Oh, fuck.”

~*~

“I’m pregnant.”
The words felt funky.
“I am pregnant,” she said to her reflection in the rental car’s visor mirror. “We’re having a baby.” She tried saying it while waving her hands. But that felt weird too.
Holy shit, she was pregnant.
She was almost thirty. She had a good job, and she was in a good place. It was not even the least bit expected, nor was it good timing since she wasn’t thirty yet, nor was she married. But it was fine. They would get a quickie marriage, and bam, they’d be good. No one would have to know she was pregnant before they decided to elope. It would be fine. Everything would be fine; her inheritance wasn’t in jeopardy.
But, shit, she didn’t want to move back to Colorado. She would have to because he wouldn’t be able to leave his job. He owned the damn firm, while she was contracted by the Nashville Assassins, the professional hockey team back in Nashville, Tennessee. Her gig was awesome, so damn awesome, and she loved it, but it wouldn’t work. She’d have to be the one to move. Damn it. She’d finish out the season for sure, but that meant she couldn’t sign the five-year extension that was sitting on her desk back home. With the lovely bonus that was going to pay off her car early. Damn it.
She wasn’t sure how he was going to take it, but they were good. They had known each other their whole lives. Been fucking for years, so it was time. She loved him. Ish. Kinda. Well, obviously a little since she continued to sleep with him, but he was a cool dude. And even if marriage was the last thing she wanted, she knew she had to do it.
She needed the money from her inheritance that her dad was holding, which had been passed down from her grandfather. When she turned thirty in October, it would be hers. The only catch was she couldn’t have a baby out of wedlock before she was thirty. It was stupid, and it was barbaric in her opinion. But it was what her grandfather had written up, and her father was standing behind it. It was annoying, to say the least, but if she wanted to pay off all her debt and live pretty damn comfortably for the rest of her life, along with providing a comfortable life for Wells, she had to do what she had to do.
She just hoped he didn’t let her down.
Getting out of the car, she swallowed hard as she walked toward the doors that read Washington, Fieldsman, and Barnes. When she opened the door, she was greeted by the receptionist, and Wren shot her a quick, curt smile. She was nervous. Why was she nervous? Crap, was she going to puke?
Yup.
Dipping into the bathroom before his office, she threw up the rest of her guts and sat there shaking her head. “You’re lucky I love you, kid.”
Wow, that was quick.
Wren had never seen herself as a mother. She’d thought she was going to grow old with lots of money and dogs. She hadn’t seen love or babies in her future. She’d seen lots of fucking, but that was about it. She didn’t have the best luck in love and really hadn’t imagined this coming, but now, she saw herself holding a baby.
Problem was, she still didn’t see him in her picture.
But that would change…right?
Surely.
Crap.
Washing her mouth out and then popping some gum, she walked out of the bathroom and right into another person. “Ah!”
“Crap! I’m sorry, Wren.”
Wren clammed up. Shit. “Hey, Shanna. What you doing here?”
“I had to see Bradley. What are you doing?” her best friend for her whole life asked.
Dammit, Wren hated lying to her.
“I have a meeting with him. He has to go over my contract for the Assassins.”
Shanna lit up. “Cool! Are you still coming for dinner tonight?”
Wren was shaking. Why was she shaking? Shit. “Shan, I texted you. I had to move my flight up, remember?”
“Oh, yes. My bad. Next time.”
“Of course,” she said before Shanna embraced her. Squeezing her eyes shut, Wren knew she would have to tell her. But Bradley had wanted to keep them under wraps. Plus, Wren knew how overprotective Shanna was of her baby brother. Wren had known better, but the dude was hung like a horse and hot to boot. She just hoped she wouldn’t lose a friendship over this. But Shanna would be excited. They’d be sisters like they’d always wanted, and there’d be a new baby. Shanna would love that.
Right?
Right.
Don’t freak out. This is fine.
Saying goodbye, Wren waved as she walked toward his office before knocking on the door. “Come in.” As she opened the door to the huge, posh office, he stood behind his desk, looking every bit as gorgeous as the day was long. His suit was pressed and clung to him. His blond-brown hair was brushed to the side, while a bit of stubble dusted his jaw. She only saw it because the sun was kissing it, shining on it ever so sweetly. He was a good-looking man, beautiful even, but still, she couldn’t see herself married to him. Shit.
Wren smiled though, and when Bradley looked up, heat filled his gaze. “Hey, you.”
“Hey,” she said, shutting the door as he came around the desk to her. Gathering her in his arms, he kissed her hard on the lips, dipping her back slightly as she clung to him. This had to work. He was a great guy.
Pulling back, he kissed her nose. “You look hot.”
She laughed, waving him off. “I look and feel like death.”
“Still?” he asked, concern filling his handsome face. He was a year younger than her, and growing up, they’d called him the baby. Though, he didn’t look like a baby. When he had first kissed her, eons ago, she hadn’t expected it. And even though they had both been with other people over the years, they somehow always gravitated back to each other.
Always.
But that was about to change.
“Yeah. I went to the doctor today.”
Moving his thumb along the inside of her palm, he smiled. “Is it contagious?”
She shook her head, her face filling with heat. “No.”
“Oh, good,” he said, gathering her in his arms and pressing his lips to hers. “So we can take this discussion to the couch.”
She stopped him as he tried to pull her to where she knew they would likely have all kinds of hot sex, but she needed to get this out. “Not yet.”
His brows pulled together. “What’s wrong? Don’t feel up to it?”
She swallowed hard. “It’s not that. It’s…um…” Inhaling deeply, she met his gaze. The gaze she had known her whole life. Though right now, she felt like she was going to puke, her nerves were so bad. “I’m pregnant.”
She watched as his eyes widened, his jaw dropping before he dropped her hands. “Pregnant?”
“Yeah.”
He only blinked. “Is it mine?”
She nodded. “You’re the only guy I’ve been with for the last six months.”
He blinked once more, his eyes burning into hers. “Are you sure?”
She gave him a deadpan look. “I think I’d remember if I happen to fall, pussy first, on a cock other than yours.”
He didn’t laugh like she wanted, nor did he look her in the eye. Instead, he chewed his lip, looking anywhere but at her. “So, no other chance it isn’t mine?”
Her brows drew in. “It’s yours, Bradley.”
Turning his back to her, he walked away, going to the windows as he looked out of them, his hands folded across his chest. “I didn’t expect this. We used condoms.”
“I know.”
“And you’re on birth control, I thought.”
“I am, though I don’t take it as often as I should.”
He looked over at her. “So you trapped me?”
She glared. “You’d better be joking.”
He didn’t answer; he just looked away as her heart started to speed up.
This didn’t feel right.
As he started to pace, she watched him, her blood beginning to boil. She didn’t like his comment, nor did she like the way he wouldn’t look at her. Clearing her throat, she watched him as she said, “Okay, well, I know this is a lot at once, and it’s a lot for me too. But we have something that could pose an issue—my inheritance.”
His face wrinkled up as he snapped, “How does that have anything to do with me?”
She glared at the side of his face. “It has to do with you because your baby is inside of me, and I’m not thirty yet. So if I have this baby before I turn thirty and I’m not married, I’m fucked.”
“Then don’t have the baby.”
Her jaw dropped. Actually dropped, almost catching flies. “Excuse me?”
Still looking out the window, he shrugged. “Go get an abortion.”
“What?”
“Listen, I don’t want this. I don’t want a kid, and fuck, this is going to mess everything up.”
Her heart was in her throat. “Mess up what?
Turning to her, he yelled, “I’m marrying fucking Fieldsman’s daughter.”
It was as if he’d hit her. Reaching out, she braced her hand on the window. He had been seeing the girl, but he swore it wasn’t serious. They were just cool; it was business as he said. But marriage? “What? You said you didn’t want to get married.”
“I know, but I have no choice.”
“You do. You can marry me and help out the mother of your child.”
“No, I can’t. I was going to tell you tonight, that we had to break this off. For good.”
Drawing in a breath through her nose, she shook her head. “Wow.”
“Yeah. So listen,” he said, walking around her and to his desk, but she didn’t move as the tears gathered in her eyes. “Go get an abortion. It’s for the best. Here, this should cover it.”
When she opened her eyes, he was filling out a check before holding it out to her. Shaking her head hard, she muttered, “I don’t want your money.”
“Take it, Wren. Please. I can’t have this fuck up what I’ve got going for me. I’ll have more stock in this firm once I marry her.”
Her lip started to tremble. “But I’m having your baby.”
“I don’t want it,” he said simply. “I don’t want any of it. She will get pissed. She’s already so jealous and thinks I’m fucking around.”
“You are!”
“I know, but not anymore. So, please, get rid of it.”
“I can’t.”
“Wren, come on!”
“You can’t do this. We’ve known each other our whole life.”
“I understand that. So please do it.”
“No.”
“Don’t be stupid, because I’ll deny it. You fuck around. Everyone knows it, and I’ll deny the kid is mine. You’ll have to take me to court to prove it. But by the time that happens, you’ll already have it before your thirtieth birthday, so you’ll be fucked anyway. Just do the right thing. Get rid of it, Wren.”
She wouldn’t let her tears fall. Not for this fucking douche. “I thought I knew you, you selfish asshole.”
The words didn’t even faze him. He glared at her. “I thought I knew you. How could you let this happen? We were never serious. We were just fucking.”
Looking down at the ground, she bit into her lip to keep the tears from falling. Yeah, he was right, but she thought she’d meant more to him than just a fuck. “Just fucking, huh?”
“Yeah, it isn’t like we love each other. I mean, come on. You’re not even my type.”
“Your type?”
“Wren, come on,” he said simply, holding his hands out. “You’re not trophy wife material.”
She was going to deck him. “I can’t believe this.”
“Just take the check.”
He held it out once more, and her eyes landed on it through her tears. She should take it. It really was the only option, yet she knew she couldn’t.
Meeting his gaze, she swallowed hard as she shook her head slowly from side to side. “No.”
“Wren, don’t be an idiot.”
“No.”
“You’re being fucking stupid—”
Standing erect, she stepped over to him, her eyes burning into his and completely cutting off his words. She was sure her eyes were full of heat, full of rage because his words shook her. To the core. She wasn’t sure who this man was, but he sure as hell wouldn’t be the father of her child. Over her dead fucking body. “Fuck you, Bradley. I don’t need your money or even you. So. Fuck. You.”
And with that, she walked away.
With no clue what she was going to do now.
Except for the certainty that she wasn’t killing her baby.

My name is Toni Aleo and I’m a total dork.
I am a wife, mother of two and a bulldog, and also a hopeless romantic.
I am the biggest Shea Weber fan ever, and can be found during hockey season with my nose pressed against the Bridgestone Arena’s glass, watching my Nashville Predators play!
When my nose isn’t pressed against the glass, I enjoy going to my husband and son’s hockey games, my daughter’s dance competition, hanging with my best friends, taking pictures, scrapbooking, and reading the latest romance novel.
I have a slight Disney and Harry Potter obsession, I love things that sparkle, I love the color pink, I might have been a Disney Princess in a past life… probably Belle.
… and did I mention I love hockey?

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Coming August 22nd

 

 

Jensen Monroe is a unicorn. As handsome as any model, as polite as can be, a goalie of unmatched skill, and the best friend anyone could ask for. But he longs for a particular special someone to make his life complete. He’s been in love with Wren since he was a teenager, but as his best friend’s sister, she’s always been off-limits.

Wren Lemiere has prided herself on being a love ’em and leave ’em girl her whole life. She’s all about equal opportunity in the battle of the sexes. Why should guys like her brother and his best friends get to be the only ones allowed to play the dating game? One wrong move, however, and she finds herself in violation of her own rules.

In need of a fake husband and baby daddy for her unexpected bundle of joy, Wren finally accepts Jensen is the logical one to ask for help. Except he has a counteroffer…one with so many strings attached, they may just find themselves wrapped up in ties that bind. Forever.

 

 


Prologue

Five months earlier…

Wren Lemiere felt awful.
The kind of awful where you felt like you were dying.
Not that she had ever been the victim of an almost-death, but she was pretty sure it felt like what she was feeling.
Why she came back home to Colorado when she was this godforsakenly sick was beyond her, but then she hadn’t felt like death when she got on the plane. It was once she got off and for the following three days that the death hit her. She didn’t know what was going on, but she just wanted some drugs to make the excruciating nausea go away. That was all. Just some drugs.
Holding her face in her hands, she inhaled a deep breath before letting it out in a whoosh, begging the turning of her gut to stop. She wasn’t sure what she ate or what bacteria she picked up, but when she found out whatever did this to her, they would suffer. Slowly and painfully. It was probably Vaughn, her brother’s best friend. He was a walking cesspool. Ugh. She had never been so sick in her life, she swore it, but then again, that time she had the flu, she was sure she’d thought the same.
Either way, she was dying.
Plain and simple.
“Ugh,” she moaned as she swallowed back the bile that was threatening to come up her throat. When the door opened and the doctor stepped in, she cried out in relief. “Please, give me something. Anything. Knock me out if you have to.”
Ryan Churner laughed. They had gone to school together, dated briefly, but they’d been just kids. Now, he was married and happy—with lots of kids of his own. Wren, though, was living the single, carefree life. Much to her mother’s dismay. Her mother wanted grandbabies, and since her brother, Wells, was gay, it was easy to say it was Wren’s job to give her mother babies. Which was not going to happen. Wren would suck as a mom. Plus, she couldn’t find a decent guy to love her large ass. So that left her brother, and Wells could adopt. Yeah, he should do that. Take some of the pressure off her. She needed to call him about that.
“I’m afraid there are no drugs for what you have.”
Wren threw up her hands. “It’s a virus?”
He laughed. She didn’t like the sound of that laugh. Or the way he said, “Um, no.”
Her face wrinkled in confusion. “Then, what?”
He grimaced a bit before looking up at her. His dark blue eyes held her gaze as a grin pulled at his lips. “When was your last period?”
She shrugged. “Like six months ago. I have polycystic ovary syndrome, though.” She added while pointing at him, “Not sure that’s in my chart.”
He nodded. “It is, but I hadn’t realized it had been that long.”
“Yeah.” She had maybe two periods a year, possibly three. It was a problem, but her problem. One she was blessed with when she was younger. Her PCOS kept her a little on the thicker side and also wreaked havoc on her hormones, but she managed. She wasn’t going to let it bring her down or dwell on it. She already did that enough.
“Okay, well, are you in a relationship right now?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Are you sexually active?”
“Always,” she said with an exaggerated wink. Then she paused. “Wait, I’m not hitting on you.”
“I know.” He laughed and she grinned, though, it was brief before she felt a wave of queasiness. “But your pregnancy test came up positive.”
Wren could only blink as her body went cold. She started laughing because surely, she’d heard him wrong. “You weren’t this funny when we were younger.”
“I’m not joking.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Your pregnancy test came up positive, but sometimes with PCOS, you can get a positive result. So I want to do an ultrasound.”
“For what?”
“To see if you’re pregnant.”
“Pregnant? Me?”
“Yes.”
“But…really?”
“Yes,” he said with a smile before he stood, walking to the door. “Well, usually when you have sex, a baby can be made as a byproduct of all that passion.”
“But…” She trailed off, her heart jumping into her throat. Surely that wasn’t the case. She couldn’t be pregnant. They’d used protection. “I have sex with condoms, and I’m on birth control.”
“Are you consistent with your birth control?
She shrugged. “Sure.”
He raised an eyebrow. “That’s not believable, Wren.”
Her face wrinkled more as he called out to the nurse. Sitting there, she tried to remember when this could have happened. She was home last month and had seen him…a lot and all of him, but they’d used condoms. Hadn’t they? Shit.
Soon a cart was brought in, and she was asked to take off her pants. It was all a blur, lying there with a drape over her bottom half and Ryan shoving some damn probe up inside her. Staring at the ceiling, she didn’t know what to think. She hadn’t even thought this was a possibility. With her PCOS, it was supposed to be hard for her to get pregnant. Not to mention, she didn’t want to be a mom. She would suck as a mom. And he would suck as a dad. They were selfish.
“Yup, there it is.”
Turning her head, she looked at the screen to see a little peanut. Seriously, a peanut, or at least, that’s what she assumed it was. But in the middle of the peanut was a little flicker. It was so small, almost undetectable, but she was sure she could see it. Was that the heartbeat?
“That’s it? I’m pregnant?”
“You’re pregnant.”
Blinking hard, she gasped. “Oh, fuck.”

~*~

“I’m pregnant.”
The words felt funky.
“I am pregnant,” she said to her reflection in the rental car’s visor mirror. “We’re having a baby.” She tried saying it while waving her hands. But that felt weird too.
Holy shit, she was pregnant.
She was almost thirty. She had a good job, and she was in a good place. It was not even the least bit expected, nor was it good timing since she wasn’t thirty yet, nor was she married. But it was fine. They would get a quickie marriage, and bam, they’d be good. No one would have to know she was pregnant before they decided to elope. It would be fine. Everything would be fine; her inheritance wasn’t in jeopardy.
But, shit, she didn’t want to move back to Colorado. She would have to because he wouldn’t be able to leave his job. He owned the damn firm, while she was contracted by the Nashville Assassins, the professional hockey team back in Nashville, Tennessee. Her gig was awesome, so damn awesome, and she loved it, but it wouldn’t work. She’d have to be the one to move. Damn it. She’d finish out the season for sure, but that meant she couldn’t sign the five-year extension that was sitting on her desk back home. With the lovely bonus that was going to pay off her car early. Damn it.
She wasn’t sure how he was going to take it, but they were good. They had known each other their whole lives. Been fucking for years, so it was time. She loved him. Ish. Kinda. Well, obviously a little since she continued to sleep with him, but he was a cool dude. And even if marriage was the last thing she wanted, she knew she had to do it.
She needed the money from her inheritance that her dad was holding, which had been passed down from her grandfather. When she turned thirty in October, it would be hers. The only catch was she couldn’t have a baby out of wedlock before she was thirty. It was stupid, and it was barbaric in her opinion. But it was what her grandfather had written up, and her father was standing behind it. It was annoying, to say the least, but if she wanted to pay off all her debt and live pretty damn comfortably for the rest of her life, along with providing a comfortable life for Wells, she had to do what she had to do.
She just hoped he didn’t let her down.
Getting out of the car, she swallowed hard as she walked toward the doors that read Washington, Fieldsman, and Barnes. When she opened the door, she was greeted by the receptionist, and Wren shot her a quick, curt smile. She was nervous. Why was she nervous? Crap, was she going to puke?
Yup.
Dipping into the bathroom before his office, she threw up the rest of her guts and sat there shaking her head. “You’re lucky I love you, kid.”
Wow, that was quick.
Wren had never seen herself as a mother. She’d thought she was going to grow old with lots of money and dogs. She hadn’t seen love or babies in her future. She’d seen lots of fucking, but that was about it. She didn’t have the best luck in love and really hadn’t imagined this coming, but now, she saw herself holding a baby.
Problem was, she still didn’t see him in her picture.
But that would change…right?
Surely.
Crap.
Washing her mouth out and then popping some gum, she walked out of the bathroom and right into another person. “Ah!”
“Crap! I’m sorry, Wren.”
Wren clammed up. Shit. “Hey, Shanna. What you doing here?”
“I had to see Bradley. What are you doing?” her best friend for her whole life asked.
Dammit, Wren hated lying to her.
“I have a meeting with him. He has to go over my contract for the Assassins.”
Shanna lit up. “Cool! Are you still coming for dinner tonight?”
Wren was shaking. Why was she shaking? Shit. “Shan, I texted you. I had to move my flight up, remember?”
“Oh, yes. My bad. Next time.”
“Of course,” she said before Shanna embraced her. Squeezing her eyes shut, Wren knew she would have to tell her. But Bradley had wanted to keep them under wraps. Plus, Wren knew how overprotective Shanna was of her baby brother. Wren had known better, but the dude was hung like a horse and hot to boot. She just hoped she wouldn’t lose a friendship over this. But Shanna would be excited. They’d be sisters like they’d always wanted, and there’d be a new baby. Shanna would love that.
Right?
Right.
Don’t freak out. This is fine.
Saying goodbye, Wren waved as she walked toward his office before knocking on the door. “Come in.” As she opened the door to the huge, posh office, he stood behind his desk, looking every bit as gorgeous as the day was long. His suit was pressed and clung to him. His blond-brown hair was brushed to the side, while a bit of stubble dusted his jaw. She only saw it because the sun was kissing it, shining on it ever so sweetly. He was a good-looking man, beautiful even, but still, she couldn’t see herself married to him. Shit.
Wren smiled though, and when Bradley looked up, heat filled his gaze. “Hey, you.”
“Hey,” she said, shutting the door as he came around the desk to her. Gathering her in his arms, he kissed her hard on the lips, dipping her back slightly as she clung to him. This had to work. He was a great guy.
Pulling back, he kissed her nose. “You look hot.”
She laughed, waving him off. “I look and feel like death.”
“Still?” he asked, concern filling his handsome face. He was a year younger than her, and growing up, they’d called him the baby. Though, he didn’t look like a baby. When he had first kissed her, eons ago, she hadn’t expected it. And even though they had both been with other people over the years, they somehow always gravitated back to each other.
Always.
But that was about to change.
“Yeah. I went to the doctor today.”
Moving his thumb along the inside of her palm, he smiled. “Is it contagious?”
She shook her head, her face filling with heat. “No.”
“Oh, good,” he said, gathering her in his arms and pressing his lips to hers. “So we can take this discussion to the couch.”
She stopped him as he tried to pull her to where she knew they would likely have all kinds of hot sex, but she needed to get this out. “Not yet.”
His brows pulled together. “What’s wrong? Don’t feel up to it?”
She swallowed hard. “It’s not that. It’s…um…” Inhaling deeply, she met his gaze. The gaze she had known her whole life. Though right now, she felt like she was going to puke, her nerves were so bad. “I’m pregnant.”
She watched as his eyes widened, his jaw dropping before he dropped her hands. “Pregnant?”
“Yeah.”
He only blinked. “Is it mine?”
She nodded. “You’re the only guy I’ve been with for the last six months.”
He blinked once more, his eyes burning into hers. “Are you sure?”
She gave him a deadpan look. “I think I’d remember if I happen to fall, pussy first, on a cock other than yours.”
He didn’t laugh like she wanted, nor did he look her in the eye. Instead, he chewed his lip, looking anywhere but at her. “So, no other chance it isn’t mine?”
Her brows drew in. “It’s yours, Bradley.”
Turning his back to her, he walked away, going to the windows as he looked out of them, his hands folded across his chest. “I didn’t expect this. We used condoms.”
“I know.”
“And you’re on birth control, I thought.”
“I am, though I don’t take it as often as I should.”
He looked over at her. “So you trapped me?”
She glared. “You’d better be joking.”
He didn’t answer; he just looked away as her heart started to speed up.
This didn’t feel right.
As he started to pace, she watched him, her blood beginning to boil. She didn’t like his comment, nor did she like the way he wouldn’t look at her. Clearing her throat, she watched him as she said, “Okay, well, I know this is a lot at once, and it’s a lot for me too. But we have something that could pose an issue—my inheritance.”
His face wrinkled up as he snapped, “How does that have anything to do with me?”
She glared at the side of his face. “It has to do with you because your baby is inside of me, and I’m not thirty yet. So if I have this baby before I turn thirty and I’m not married, I’m fucked.”
“Then don’t have the baby.”
Her jaw dropped. Actually dropped, almost catching flies. “Excuse me?”
Still looking out the window, he shrugged. “Go get an abortion.”
“What?”
“Listen, I don’t want this. I don’t want a kid, and fuck, this is going to mess everything up.”
Her heart was in her throat. “Mess up what?
Turning to her, he yelled, “I’m marrying fucking Fieldsman’s daughter.”
It was as if he’d hit her. Reaching out, she braced her hand on the window. He had been seeing the girl, but he swore it wasn’t serious. They were just cool; it was business as he said. But marriage? “What? You said you didn’t want to get married.”
“I know, but I have no choice.”
“You do. You can marry me and help out the mother of your child.”
“No, I can’t. I was going to tell you tonight, that we had to break this off. For good.”
Drawing in a breath through her nose, she shook her head. “Wow.”
“Yeah. So listen,” he said, walking around her and to his desk, but she didn’t move as the tears gathered in her eyes. “Go get an abortion. It’s for the best. Here, this should cover it.”
When she opened her eyes, he was filling out a check before holding it out to her. Shaking her head hard, she muttered, “I don’t want your money.”
“Take it, Wren. Please. I can’t have this fuck up what I’ve got going for me. I’ll have more stock in this firm once I marry her.”
Her lip started to tremble. “But I’m having your baby.”
“I don’t want it,” he said simply. “I don’t want any of it. She will get pissed. She’s already so jealous and thinks I’m fucking around.”
“You are!”
“I know, but not anymore. So, please, get rid of it.”
“I can’t.”
“Wren, come on!”
“You can’t do this. We’ve known each other our whole life.”
“I understand that. So please do it.”
“No.”
“Don’t be stupid, because I’ll deny it. You fuck around. Everyone knows it, and I’ll deny the kid is mine. You’ll have to take me to court to prove it. But by the time that happens, you’ll already have it before your thirtieth birthday, so you’ll be fucked anyway. Just do the right thing. Get rid of it, Wren.”
She wouldn’t let her tears fall. Not for this fucking douche. “I thought I knew you, you selfish asshole.”
The words didn’t even faze him. He glared at her. “I thought I knew you. How could you let this happen? We were never serious. We were just fucking.”
Looking down at the ground, she bit into her lip to keep the tears from falling. Yeah, he was right, but she thought she’d meant more to him than just a fuck. “Just fucking, huh?”
“Yeah, it isn’t like we love each other. I mean, come on. You’re not even my type.”
“Your type?”
“Wren, come on,” he said simply, holding his hands out. “You’re not trophy wife material.”
She was going to deck him. “I can’t believe this.”
“Just take the check.”
He held it out once more, and her eyes landed on it through her tears. She should take it. It really was the only option, yet she knew she couldn’t.
Meeting his gaze, she swallowed hard as she shook her head slowly from side to side. “No.”
“Wren, don’t be an idiot.”
“No.”
“You’re being fucking stupid—”
Standing erect, she stepped over to him, her eyes burning into his and completely cutting off his words. She was sure her eyes were full of heat, full of rage because his words shook her. To the core. She wasn’t sure who this man was, but he sure as hell wouldn’t be the father of her child. Over her dead fucking body. “Fuck you, Bradley. I don’t need your money or even you. So. Fuck. You.”
And with that, she walked away.
With no clue what she was going to do now.
Except for the certainty that she wasn’t killing her baby.

 

 

My name is Toni Aleo and I’m a total dork.
I am a wife, mother of two and a bulldog, and also a hopeless romantic.
I am the biggest Shea Weber fan ever, and can be found during hockey season with my nose pressed against the Bridgestone Arena’s glass, watching my Nashville Predators play!
When my nose isn’t pressed against the glass, I enjoy going to my husband and son’s hockey games, my daughter’s dance competition, hanging with my best friends, taking pictures, scrapbooking, and reading the latest romance novel.
I have a slight Disney and Harry Potter obsession, I love things that sparkle, I love the color pink, I might have been a Disney Princess in a past life… probably Belle.
… and did I mention I love hockey?

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