Coming Soon…One Baby Daddy

“What are you doing now that your team is out of the running for the Stanley Cup?”

Forget.

I need to forget. I need an escape.

Only one person isn’t falling for my reputation as the NHL’s Golden Boy; she captured my attention the minute she called me out for snooping through my best friend’s house. She didn’t want to hear my reason–she only wanted to playfully give me a hard time.

Adalyn is bold, sassy–and the perfect escape.

She’s everywhere. In town and in my dreams, and suddenly I need to spend every waking moment with her.

And I do, making this summer the best off-season I’ve ever had.

But in the midst of getting lost in Adalyn, what I don’t expect is to get her pregnant.

And what I definitely don’t expect is having to fight for her affection.

 

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8 i get lost (1)

EXCERPT:

 

Tentative at first, we explore, our lips light, our mouths not quite nipping, but not fusing together either.

We probe, we search, we delve into each other.

Her hands to my face.

My fingers tangling in her wavy brown curls.

Mouths open.

A gasp.

A moan.

A tightened grip.

The lightest touch of tongues.

Scooting closer, she wraps her legs around the back of mine, linking them together.

Tangling, molding, becoming one, the sweet taste of her mouth on mine . . . I’m lost.

Falling and falling fast, our kiss so deep, so intense with each thrust of our tongues, with each mingling of our lips, with every intake of desperate breath.

Tender, the way she moves her lips across mine.

Shaky, the way her hands tentatively explore the crevasses and divots of my broad and built chest.

Fearful . . . of the unknown, of what this means.

But so goddamn electrifying because the craving I’ve harbored for this woman is finally being sated.

Eyes closed, hands lingering, I slowly pull away and rest my forehead on Adalyn’s trying to catch my breath, taking a second to steady the jittery, wobbly feeling in my legs.

“Wow,” I mumble. “That was—”

“Unforgettable,” she finishes for me, her nose rubbing against mine.

Exhaling, I say, “Yeah, it was.”

My hands venture to her sides, memorizing every contour of her body in their path. “Where’s your bedroom?”

Her eyes light up and she hops down from the counter, taking my hand in hers in the process. “This way.” She practically skips down the hallway, light and giddy.

The dark hallway leads to another white, clean, and crisp bedroom. Smooth lines, monotone colors of whites and creams, with one light blue throw pillow on her plush white bed that looks like a cloud floating in the middle of heaven.

Angling in my direction, she reaches for the hem of her dress, but I stop her, gripping her shoulders and standing her upright. Confusion laces her eyes and I take no time in easing that confusion.

“I want to take this slow, Adalyn.” I let out an unsteady breath. “That kiss back there, fuck . . .” I press a hand through my hair. “That rocked my goddamn world.”

Shyly, she peeks up at me through her eyelashes. “It rocked my world too.”

Unable to keep my hands off her for too long, I tip her chin up and press my lips against hers, my mouth smoothing along hers, lush and delicious, just as I expected. She sighs into me, holding on to my waist. I press my tongue against hers again, loving how she gives as much as I take.

Slowing down, my lips brush hers, the fiery passion we have for each other simmering like a pot ready to boil, but never getting hot enough.

I don’t want it to get too hot. Not right now.

I need to know more about her. I want more time with her. I don’t want to jump into this—into a physical relationship—when I know there is so much more I can share with this woman.

There is time for this connection to go beyond the physical, but for now, I need to not get wrapped up in the sensation of her being so close to me and rather seduce her mind instead. I. Want. Her. I want what Calder and Rachel have. I want the depth of trust and friendship I’ve seen in my parents’ marriage . . . How is that possible so soon? God, I want inside her, but I think I need inside her heart more than in her body.

Yes, I’m certifiable.

Completely.

“Can we agree on something?”

“Depends on what it is.” Her fingers trace up and down my spine.

Tracing her pattern, matching it with my fingers, I say, “Can we both acknowledge this unimaginable pull between us? Can we admit to ourselves that the physical is there, that we both would have no problem taking this relationship to the bed?”

“Easily,” she breathes out heavily, her fingers playing with the hem of my shirt.

“Can we also agree to wait?”

Sighing heavily, she rests her head against my chest, knocking it a few times with her forehead. “You’re killing me, Hayden.”

“I know but there have been too many times where the physical has taken the lead in developing a relationship and the communication has lacked. I don’t want that with you.”

“I can understand that.” She bites her bottom lip, her thoughts running a mile a minute in that pretty head of hers. “But what about . . . you know . . . when you have to leave, go back to Philly?”

I nod. “This is for then. So when I do go back, we’ll be okay. Because I can see a future with you, Adalyn, and that’s why I want to build something solid with you, something that can last. I want that chance. With you.”

“So when you return to Philly, you want to stay in contact with me?”

“Fuck yes, I do. And I’m going to have you sitting front and center at as many games as you can get to, especially since I’m trying to make hockey your favorite sport.”

“I don’t know.” She smiles. “That’s going to be one hell of a task to accomplish. Think you can handle it?”

“I know I can.” I press a quick kiss against her lips and then slap her ass, making her squeal. With a wink, I say, “Go get changed for bed, we have some making out to do.”

“Making out?” she asks, adding in a lift of that well-defined eyebrow of hers.

Acting stern and pointing my finger at her, I say, “Just making out. If you start with your wandering hands, I’m going to jet out of here, taking my body warmth with me.”

“That’s just cruel.”

“Then keep it in your pants, Adalyn.” Smiling wickedly, I go to the living room to grab my overnight bag, reprimanding myself with the same warning.

Keep it in your pants, Holmes.

For the love of God, keep it in your pants.

 

 

 

 

 

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!

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Lie to Me…Excerpt Reveal

Lie To Me Ebook.jpgSynopsis:

At nineteen, Savannah Dean escaped her family, leaving behind a note and the people who caused her so much pain.

Now, she lives on her own and keeps to herself.

At nineteen, Kent Lawson’s girlfriend betrayed him, leaving him behind with a broken heart and a whole lot of mistrust in women.

Now, he lives on his own and shares himself with nearly every pretty thing that walks by but only for one night.

When Savannah and Kent meet, they can’t stand each other.

Kent knows she’s hiding something, and he despises liars.

And Savannah has nothing but secrets.

LieToMe-teaser1.jpg

EXCERPT

Wednesday rolls around way too fast. I have a whole evening with Savannah. It’s been really nice these past four days that she’s been out of my life. Yet, the whole time, I’ve been craving the way we snip at each other.

I need help.

I cut my engine outside her building and look up. Apparently, she lives up on the first floor and faces out toward the road.

Is she looking at me right now?

Why I feel the need to get out and buzz her apartment, I don’t know, but somehow, I find myself getting out of the car and walking toward the building. I stop at the front door, realising that Heidi told me what floor Savannah is on but not the number. Or she might have told me, and I just didn’t listen.

This is a great start.

I’m about to call my sister when I see Savannah through the glass, walking down the stairs to ground level.

Fuck me.

Has she always looked like that?

She’s wearing a pair of dark blue skinny jeans and a grey off-the-shoulder shirt, but she looks sexier than any other woman I’ve ever seen in a little dress.

Why don’t I like her again?

Her steely eyes, looking even more prominent with the colour of her top, warily eye me. Our last encounter wasn’t exactly pleasant.

She opens the door and smiles. “Hi, Kent.”

My back stiffens. “Savannah.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind taking me tonight? I can Uber.”

And there it is. This is why she fucking bothers me so much. I feel like telling her to call a fucking Uber then. She always sounds so unsure of herself, like every tiny thing a person does for her is some massive inconvenience. Why?

“It’s fine,” I spit.

She folds her arms, carefully because her fractured arm hasn’t healed. It does take away a little of the dramatic flair she was going for. “Do you need to take a nap before we go?”

“What?”

“You’re cranky.”

“You’re too polite.”

“Being polite is a bad thing?”

I flex my jaw. “Yes.”

“Fine. Get in the car, and take me.”

The intent behind her words is clear; however, I hear it completely different and laugh.

She rolls her eyes. “Don’t be a knobhead, Kent. Take me to your parents’ house, I mean.”

“Knobhead. I’ve not heard that one in a while.”

Savannah takes another long breath. “I really don’t know why I thought accepting a lift from you would be a good idea. In fact, I didn’t. I stillthink it’s a bad idea.”

“You always follow through with bad ideas?”

“Tonight, I am.”

Fuck yeah. I love this fighting side of her. It’s like, when I rile her up enough, the cover slips, revealing the real Savannah. I’m not sure if she’s hiding something the way Freya was.

“You should work on that. I don’t do anything I don’t want to.”

She tilts her head to the side, fire and determination in her eyes. “Oh, you wanted me to come tonight? And you wanted to be the one to pick me up?”

“You’re hot when you’re angry, Savannah.”

Actually, she’s hot all the time. It’s just, right now, she’s the whole package.

“You always use bullshit like that to deflect from someone calling you out?”

“You’re the first woman to call me out.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” she mutters.

“Do you want to argue on your doorstep all night or get to my parents’ for dinner? I’m cool with either, just checking to see which way you’re leaning.”

She drops her arms, one still bound tightly in a splint. “I’m hungry.”

“Excellent, let’s go then.”

 

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The Secret…Cover & Excerpt Reveal

The Secret - Ebook

Blurb: Being butler to a widower and single father is a dream job in more ways than one for Charlotte “Charlie” Emerson. She helps keep businessman Ethan Archer’s household running without a hitch and enjoys every minute she has with his six-year-old son, Wells. But as time passes, the situation feels alarmingly intimate and when her heart starts beating faster each time Ethan steps through the door, Charlie must exert rigid control over her feelings.

With her secret, falling in love would be all kinds of bad…

Ethan Archer values the woman who keeps his life in order and cares so much for his motherless boy. He and Charlie act in harmony with each other and it’s not hard to picture them as a little family…in fact, it’s so easy, one reckless night he proposes a marriage of convenience.

What will he do if Charlie says yes? And worse, what if she tells him no?

 

Exclusive Excerpt:

Charlie returned to the kitchen to deal with the dishes and restore the pots and pans to their proper place. She liked tidiness and order in all things—emotions included. Emmaline sometimes accused her of capping off her feelings, and Charlie didn’t disagree. Or find anything wrong with it.

“In my book,” she murmured to herself now, “compartmentalizing isn’t a sin.”

“What’s not a sin?” a masculine voice questioned.

Charlie whirled around, instant heat crawling up her throat and cheeks. “Um, hi, Ethan.” Her boss had been on a business trip for the past couple of weeks. Why hadn’t she taken the time to change into something other than cropped leggings and a matching T-shirt? When was the last time she’d brushed her hair?

He smiled, softening the lines of his lean and handsome face. At their first meeting, he’d claimed to be “on the dark side of thirty-five” but she’d met younger men who didn’t come close to his level of attractiveness.

“Charlotte,” he said now.

She pretended to scowl at him and told herself that she found his use of her full name—he was the only one who ever did use it—irksome. It made her feel too…feminine, and she was supposed to merely be a functional feature in his life. A Charlie.

“Must you?”

His laughter was low, almost intimate. “On occasion, I must.”

Ignoring the traitorous pleasure she felt in his presence, she busied herself with refolding a kitchen towel. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“You were lost in thought.” A heavy pause. “Something about sinning?”

At the amused and inquisitive tone, she glanced up at him. He looked back, one dark eyebrow winged up and the hint of a smile on his firm lips. A shiver tried working its way down her spine, but she ruthlessly held back the sensation.

“It was nothing,” she said.

“I’m disappointed to hear that.” He laughed again, sounding slightly chagrined. “For a moment I thought one of us was breaking out of our rut.”

 

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Untitled-designAbout the Author: Christie Ridgway is a California native and author of fifty contemporary romances. A six-time RITA finalist and USA Today bestselling author, she writes award-winning, emotional reads starring determined heroines and the men who can’t help but love them. Christie grew up in the San Francisco Bay Area, went to college in Santa Barbara, and now is married to the sweetheart she met there.

She started off as a technical writer and moved on to computer programming before having two sons and pursuing the dream she’d held since childhood—writing romance novels. Her first book stars a hero who was a former professional surfer and since then she’s written about businessmen, TV stars, soldiers, journalists, vintners, race car drivers, and horror novelists. What her heroes have in common is their resistance to love and their hardest of falls when they finally do find their right woman.

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