Authors: Erin Nicholas
“But now she’s here.”
“And that’s awesome,” Gabby told him.
“She was up until three a.m. and she’s demanding and loud and all about being the center of attention.”
Conner laughed louder at that. “You’ve met her mom, right?”
“
That’s
what I’m afraid of.”
“Emma already decorated her nursery in a princess theme,” Conner said. “What did you think this was going to be like?”
“I think this is going to be like
your
life raising girls,” Nate told him.
Conner stared at his friend. He wanted to tease him, he wanted to say
better you than me
, he wanted to say
yeah, I’m a damned saint
.
But he couldn’t.
He’d raised the four girls…but they’d also raised him. And he wouldn’t trade any of it.
“You know what, Nate?” he asked. “I hope so. I hope you have every up and down that I did.”
Nate groaned. But Conner grinned.
Gabby squeezed his hand. “I think I’m going to take Dr. Sullivan for some coffee.”
Conner watched her put her arm around Nate’s waist and steer him toward the elevators and his chest tightened.
She was taking care of the people that mattered to him and she was letting them take care of her.
“Hey, G!” he called as the elevator doors slid open. “We’re going to have a
bunch
of daughters, okay?”
She grinned at him. “You got it, Dixon. We need some estrogen on my side of the family, for sure.”
His heart full, a goofy grin on his face, he started in the direction of the nursery to see the newest female he got to dote on.
He was now up by
six
. And counting.
About the Author
Erin Nicholas is the author of sexy contemporary romances. Her stories have been described as toe curling, enchanting, steamy and fun. She loves to write about reluctant heroes, imperfect heroines and happily ever afters. She lives in the Midwest with her husband, who only wants to read the sex scenes in her books; her kids, who will never read the sex scenes in her books; and family and friends, who say they’re shocked by the sex scenes in her books (yeah, right!).
You can find Erin on the Web at
www.ErinNicholas.com
,
ninenaughtynovelists.blogspot.com
, on Twitter (
www.twitter.com/ErinNicholas
) and even on Facebook (
www.facebook.com/ErinNicholasBooks
).
Look for these titles by Erin Nicholas
Now Available:
The Bradfords
Just Right
Just Like That
Just My Type
Just the Way I Like It
Just for Fun
Just a Kiss
Just What I Need: The Epilogue
Anything & Everything
Anything You Want
Everything You’ve Got
Counting On Love
She’s the One
It Takes Two
Best of Three
Going for Four
No Matter What
Hotblooded
Promise Harbor Wedding
Hitched
It’s either true love…or the biggest mistake they’ve ever made.
Going for Four
© 2014 Erin Nicholas
Counting on Love, Book 4
Hot firefighter Cody Madsen has stayed away from Olivia Dixon for almost two years—technically. Even though he talks to her every day and sees her every weekend. But there’s no kissing, touching, or telling her how he really feels. Because they’re
just friends.
Anything more than that would mean crossing the line that Olivia’s older brother has firmly drawn between them.
Olivia wants what her three sisters have—true love. She could almost believe she’s found it with Cody, if it weren’t for the fact that he’s her older brother’s best friend and her brother won’t have it. And he’s never steered her wrong before. Her head is telling her to trust her brother, but her heart won’t let go of Cody.
Her solution? A dating site where she and Cody can each find their “Perfect Pick” once and for all.
But when the site yields some unexpected results, their real feelings come front and center. And they have to decide if it’s worth the risk to cross the line from friendship to love after all.
Warning: Contains a starry-eyed romantic, a wannabe knight in shining armor, and chocolate chip cookies. A lot of chocolate chip cookies.
Enjoy the following excerpt for
Going for Four:
Cody Madsen had never seen Olivia Dixon naked. Until today.
And there was a very good reason for that.
Two, in fact.
She was his best friend. And her brother would kill him.
But damn, the sight was breathtaking.
Breathtaking enough that his entire system short-circuited and all he could think was
Every day for the rest of my life.
“Cody! Oh my god! What are you doing here?”
She’d obviously just stepped from the bathroom. Her hair was wrapped in a towel, the scent of her favorite shower gel and lotion were strong in the air and, most significantly, she was as naked as the day she was born.
Which had to be why his brain and mouth would not connect.
Olivia crossed an arm over her breasts—her glorious, perky, perfect breasts—and put a hand over her even-more-private part—the mouthwatering, holy crap, light blond hair that was trimmed into a perfect
V
pointing the way home—and said louder, “What are you
doing
?”
But it wasn’t until another voice hit his ears that Cody was able to pull himself out of the Olivia-is-even-hotter-than-I-thought daze.
“Cody! I’m heading to the fuse box!”
Olivia’s eyebrows arched. “Is that Conner?”
It was. And Cody’s first spoken word on the matter was, “Crap.”
He grabbed her upper arms, backed her into the bathroom and kicked the door shut.
That proved to be the biggest mistake of all. Her skin was silky and warm and he should
never
have touched her.
“What’s Conner doing here?”
Cody was an idiot. When he’d first seen that she was naked, he should have turned around and gotten the hell out of here. Instead, what had he done? He’d touched her. Then he’d put himself in a closed room with her.
A tiny closed room.
“There’s a good reason we instituted the conservative-clothing-at-all-times rule,” he said gruffly.
She still had her arm and hand covering the most important parts, but that didn’t matter one iota. He was never going to be able to forget what he’d seen.
“That rule is for when we’re together,” she said.
“We’re together now.” Wow, were they. Her scent was imprinted on his brain. Now, standing submerged in a cloud of it between her and the bottles on the shelf behind her, he found himself taking deeper and deeper breaths—and growing harder and harder.
The naked-breasts-and-other-parts thing wasn’t helping.
“I didn’t know we were going to be together now,” she returned. “What are you—and
Conner—
doing here?”
“Fixing the outlet in the kitchen that’s not working.” He breathed deeply and concentrated on keeping his eyes on hers. “I texted you.”
“My battery died.”
“Why are you naked?”
“I took a shower.”
“You’re not in the shower
now
. Do I need to buy you a robe?”
“I don’t need a robe when I’m in my house, presumably alone.”
“You always walk around the house naked when you’re alone?”
“Yes.”
He had nothing after that. He pressed his lips together and resolutely continued to focus on things
above
her shoulders. Like the two empty towel racks. “Where are your other towels?”
“In the dryer.”
He pulled the towel from her head, handing it to her. “God. Cover up.”
She wrapped the towel around her body, her wet hair falling past her shoulders, big blue eyes staring at him. “You okay?”
“Yeah, why?”
“You look…weird.”
“This is, apparently, how I look when I’m trying with every fiber of my being not to kiss you.”
She made a soft choking noise and her hand grasped the towel tighter against her breasts.
“I’ve never seen that look before.”
“Yeah, I saw a few things for the first time today too.”
And she grinned.
That was one of the things he loved most about his “friend” Olivia. She had a fantastic sense of humor.
“What I mean is,” she said, “I thought there have been times in the past when you’ve had to try not to kiss me. And I’ve never seen
that
face before.”
There sure as hell had been times he’d had to resist grabbing her and pushing her up against the nearest wall. Or the nearest desk. Or the nearest copy machine, car door, refrigerator…
He cleared his throat. “Those times I was trying to resist kissing your
lips
.”
“But wh—”
She broke off as understanding dawned. And her cheeks got pink.
“God,” she finally breathed. “The not-talking-about-sex rule we have is a good one too.”
So were the other three rules they’d established nineteen months, two weeks and three days ago.
First and foremost was no kissing.
Second was conservative clothing only when they were together. He didn’t go shirtless, even when he was cleaning out her rain gutters in ninety-eight-degree weather. She didn’t wear fitted tank tops or short skirts. He didn’t wear fitted tank tops either—she’d added that to the list after the last time they’d gone to a baseball game together. If swimsuits were required, he wore baggy trunks that reached almost to his knees, and she had a two-piece with bottoms that looked like shorts and a top that covered her stomach and chest completely.
Third was no talking about sex—with anyone specifically or the overall topic in general. No innuendos either.
Fourth was no getting drunk together—they’d made that mistake once and would have made all kinds of horrible choices if Olivia’s sisters hadn’t come home early.
Fifth was no avoiding each other. That wasn’t acceptable. They were friends. They enjoyed being together. They had an entire group of friends in common.
It didn’t matter that they were more attracted to each other than they ever had been to anyone else. They weren’t going to let it keep them from being friends, and they weren’t going to let it make things awkward between them.
In fact, their friendship was one of the barriers they’d put up in hopes of fighting their attraction. They’d become even
better
friends, entirely on purpose, after the one and only time they’d kissed.
Nineteen months, two weeks and three days ago.
The thing was, the friends-only deal worked. It had started off as “let’s go to a movie” or “want to grab a burger” here and there, but once they’d started talking and laughing together, it had grown. When they’d discovered a mutual love for baking and had started baking together—even when he sometimes wished
baking together
was a euphemism for other things—their friendship had evolved into something real. There was something very innocent and fun and, of course, sweet about baking together. And in the process of mixing up cookies, muffins, brownies and new inventions here and there, they’d talked and shared and bonded.
Now they both protected the friendship staunchly. He’d never survive if he lost having Olivia in his life, and if that meant never kissing her again, so be it.
Or so he typically thought.
When she wasn’t naked in front of him.
“You’re still making that face,” Olivia said, her voice soft and a little breathless.
He was sure that he was. “You’re still standing here in a towel.”
“I can’t fix that until you move out of the way of the door,” she said with a smile.
He nodded. “It would make sense for me to move then.”
She swallowed. “If you want me to get dressed, anyway.”
“Right.”
He didn’t move out of the way.
Is their love a home run, or merely a pop fly?
Perfect Catch
© 2014 Sierra Dean
Boys of Summer, Book 2
Minor league umpire Alice Darling loves everything about baseball. That means hunky ball players are strictly off limits—dating one would be professional suicide. With a young daughter and a brother to care for, she can’t afford to slip up.
Truth is, as a young, stupid, nineteen-year-old townie, she did once date a player. That’s how she wound up with her precious, nine-year-old daughter…and a determination to never make that mistake again. Alex Ross’s arrival in Florida for spring training, though, shakes her resolve in a big way.
Alex, a catcher for the Major League’s San Francisco Felons, has never let much get in the way of his game. One look at Alice changes everything, and he finds himself pursuing her with a single-minded purpose that plays hell with his concentration.
Booted back to the minors, he returns to Florida with his tail between his legs to work on his swing…and heat things up with Alice. But when rumors of their affair hit the sports blogosphere, Alice’s career is put in jeopardy, and their love starts to look more like a strikeout than a home run.
Warning:
When a catcher struggling with his swing meets a stubborn single-mom umpire, his bat won’t be the only thing that heats up. Contains car sex, bed sex, sex sex, and a little angst for good measure.
Enjoy the following excerpt for
Perfect Catch:
She was like a guardian angel.
A guardian angel who had been poured into some dangerously tight Levi’s and was now bent over his trunk, rummaging around to get the spare out. When she emerged triumphant, her cheeks were rosy from the dig and the cool night air. Her breath puffed out in a white cloud when she laughed.