Sailor Carlson comes back to Boston to make amends with her dad, only to find he passed away, and his bar, the Alibi, now belongs to a bearded, grumpy hottie. Mr. Hottie liked her enough for a night of nameless sex on the kitchen counter, but he wants nothing to do with her now he knows who she is.
Ryan Edwards has been running the Alibi for seven years. Being in a bar night after night means he’s no stranger to one-night stands. But when the quirky, beautiful blonde he spent a hot night with shows up at his bar claiming it used to belong to her father, his guard goes right up.
Ryan’s desperate for a waitress, and Sailor wants a chance to work in the place that meant so much to her dad. If only the tenuous trust they establish were as strong as the pesky attraction simmering between them.
She slammed her eyes closed and buried her head into whatever part of Ryan was available. “Is it over yet?” In her mind, the shelves of bottles tottered above them, a long second before they too would crash down. Death by something called Uncle Dick’s Top Dog? There was worse, but not much.
Ryan shifted his body, carefully lowering Sailor to the ground with his hand cradled protectively around the crown of her head. “Next time you decide to jump,” he whispered—no, growled—directly into her ear, and the primal sound of it triggered a wave of thrill bumps to push along her skin. “Warn me first, so I can catch you and look like a hero.”
“Heh-heh.” Wait, why was she letting that annoying sound spew out of her mouth? His words…next time and hero…
She wanted them.
Didn’t want them.
Why did this whole thing with Ryan have to be so confusing?
“Good news is,” she said back to him to keep her mind from running circles like little Drexie chasing his tail, “I now have a new embarrassing moment. It’s called Not-So-Sexy Girl Takes Out Her Boss. Had it been recorded, I could’ve won ten thousand dollars on one of those funniest home video shows.”
His face appeared in front of hers, an impish grin peeking out from the cover of his beard. “I do have security cameras, you know.”
She poked his chest. “Which you will never, ever watch.”
“Might be entertaining.”
“So would watching the big tough owner get beat up by a girl much smaller than him.”
He let out a chuckle, the sound glorious and chilling in the same. He jerked forward, folded in half, and stopped nose to nose with her. He clasped his hands around her wrists and warm breath hit her face with his words. “Now that’s a beating I would be willing to endure.”
As if on cue, her body pulsed and a tingly burst shot through her core.
Then a deep voice echoed throughout the room. “Should I come back later?” She’d only been around Micah once, but that guy had the burliest voice she’d ever heard. Plus, who else would walk in when there was a CLOSED sign in the window?
He froze. Ryan’s eyes glinted mischievously. Yes, come back later his gaze screamed. Because I have a beating to attend to. And as if to drive home the point, something hard pressed against her. Right. Between. Her. Legs.
Brooklyn Skye grew up in a small town where she quickly realized writing was an escape from small town life. Really, she’s just your average awkward girl who’s obsessed with words. You can follow her on Twitter as @brooklyn__skye, Instagram as @BrooklynSkyeWrites, or visit her web site for updates, teasers, giveaways, and more. www.brooklyn-skye.com