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344 pages, Paperback
First published January 18, 2017
“You’re mine,” I heard myself say, and then stumbled to cover the gaffe. “For this week at least.”
I was a combat medic. So when I hear someone shout “MEDIC!” training just kicks in. It’s automatic, immediate. I don’t think I even saw the guy whose leg I tended to, not really. All I saw was him. Zane Badd. His tuxedo fit him like he’d been sewn into it, and his eyes reflected the fury and the hardness of a combat veteran, but when he looked at me, he just…softened. By the time I had his brother patched, Zane and I were both covered in blood, and I knew I had to have him.
The trouble with Zane isn’t getting him, it’s keeping him.
And the trouble with me is, even if I could hold onto a man like Zane, I wouldn’t know what to do with him. It’s not in my nature, and if life has taught me anything, it’s to not trust anyone, least of all men like Zane. He’s a warrior through and through, hard, muscular, gorgeous, tenacious, and yet oddly tender toward me.
Experience and instincts are telling me to run from Zane Badd as fast as possible, but my heart and my body are telling me to stay, to hold on and not let go...
“Trust is… hard, and I’m just cynical, I guess. None of the guys I’ve ever met have seemed like anyone I’d be interested in seeing more than once.”
“And I’m safe, because you’re going back home in a week, so if I turn out to be a raging douchebag, you can just catch a flight home and forget about me.”
“Exactly.” Her eyes cut to mine. “But please, feel free to not turn into a raging douchebag.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Girlfriend, you’ve got it bad,” Claire said.
That got my attention. “What do you mean?”
She waved at me in disgust. “You. I haven’t missed the way you and Zane have been eye-fucking this whole time.”
“We’re not eye-fucking,” I protested.
Claire snorted. “Bitch, please. If you could get pregnant from eye-fucking, you’d be nine kinds of knocked up.”
“I’m supposed to call Mara at four. And if you say a damn word, I’ll castrate you in your sleep.”
“The nurse from the wedding? You’re … calling her… on the phone?”
“No, you dick-turd, I’m gonna stand on the roof and shout.”
“Go. Call your woman. We got this.”
“She’s not my woman. We’re just… practice dating.”
Brock stared at me for a long moment. “There’s so much to unpack from that statement I don’t even know where to start.”
“That bar, those boys, the city… it all has a way of growing on you, doesn’t it?”
“It sure does. Like fucking tentacles.”
I laughed. “Exactly. But in this case, the tentacles are attached to a really hot, sexy, amazing man.”
“And a beautiful city,” Claire added.
“And a really kickass bar.”
“And a shitload of sexy, funny, loyal brothers.”