Synopsis
Avery Moore writes about romance, but she sure as hell doesn’t live it. Blake Patterson has no trouble getting women, in fact as the owner of a popular club, women are practically throwing themselves at him.
They couldn’t be further from each other’s type, but when a solid friendship is formed, little by little the lines become blurred.
In this struggle between friendship and love, the desire between them becomes too much to resist.
What happens when your friend suddenly becomes So Much More?
They couldn’t be further from each other’s type, but when a solid friendship is formed, little by little the lines become blurred.
In this struggle between friendship and love, the desire between them becomes too much to resist.
What happens when your friend suddenly becomes So Much More?
Excerpt
Morgan
pulled me toward the bar where she ordered us a couple of drinks before leading
us to one of the booths. As soon as we sat down, Morgan waved at a guy dressed
in a pair of black jeans and a gray button-down shirt. He was very nice looking
and smiled as he politely excused himself from the person he was talking to
before heading our way.
“Hey,
I’m glad you made it.” The guy leaned down and kissed Morgan on the cheek and
slid into the booth next to her. “Hi, I’m Sean Benson.” He held his hand out to
me.
“Avery
Moore.” I shook his hand. “Nice place you have here,” I said, motioning around
us.
Sean
leaned back and smiled at me. “Thanks. We like it.”
“We?”
I asked, raising my eyebrows.
“My
friend, Blake, and I own Chrome,” he explained. “Speaking of Blake, here he
comes.”
I
turned just in time to see a familiar face and groaned. “Blake, this is Morgan
and Avery.” Blake nodded at Morgan, then held out his hand to me. “Nice to see
you again, Avery. My friends call me Blake, but you can call me ‘Hero’.” He
grinned, and I was tempted to slap that cocky smirk off his face.
“Don’t
hold your breath,” I scoffed, rolling my eyes. What were the odds of running
into this gym egomaniac again? Especially outside of the gym. Good Lord, luck
was not on my side.
I
glared at Morgan when she started to giggle. “What did I miss?” Sean looked
confused as he looked between all of us.
“Well,
your friend saved my girl’s ass today at the gym,” Morgan explained, completely
ignoring the dirty looks I was throwing in her direction.
“This
was your damsel in distress?” Sean asked Blake, chuckling. Great, it was
obvious that Blake had told his buddy about my altercation with the machine. I
bet they had a huge laugh about it.
“I
was not a damsel in distress. I would
have gotten the weight off eventually.” I refused to look at either Morgan or
Blake as I spoke. “I just knew your boy here wouldn’t leave me alone until he
flexed his muscles and strutted around like a male peacock.” Taking a drink
from my glass, I continued. “Basically, I did him a favor, if you really think about it. I helped him impress the
sports bra bimbos. I took one for the team, more like a wing-man.” I nodded,
pleased with my explanation. I was pretty sure they all bought it … well, until
they all busted out laughing at the same time. It had sounded good anyway.
“Avery,
you crack me up. Move over.” Blake shoved in next to me. Apparently my evil
looks had no effect on this man either. I was going to need to practice in the
mirror at home. When he pushed my legs to scoot me over, I squeaked. Even the smallest
tap hurt my sore muscles more than I thought possible.
“Are
you okay?” Blake looked genuinely concerned for just a minute.
“No.
Thanks to my best friend over there, I can barely move anything below the
waist. I’m pretty sure I should be in some sort of body cast and not in these
frickin’ boots in a bar, even if it is a nice one like this.” I groaned, trying
to scoot over to give Blake some more room.
“When
was the last time you worked out?” Sean asked, eyeing me suspiciously.
“You
mean on purpose?” I asked. Sean laughed and nodded.
I
sat back and thought for a minute. “I’m pretty sure that was my senior year gym
class—about seven years ago.” I nodded.
“Shit,
and you started her with Mitzi’s class?” Blake asked Morgan, exchanging looks
with Sean and laughing loudly.
Morgan
waved her hand. “She did fine. She was pedaling faster than anyone in the
class.”
“That’s
because I thought someone was chasing me, the way that spawn of Satan was
screaming at me.” Morgan rolled her eyes as the guys laughed.
“She
is tough, I’ll give you that,” Blake confirmed. At least we agreed on this
much.
Sean
stood up. “We better go help Tony. He looks like he’s busting his ass.” He
motioned to the tall man covered in tattoos behind the bar. Sean ran his hand
over Morgan’s shoulder as he turned to leave.
Blake
nodded and stood. “You ladies enjoy yourselves. Let us know if you need
anything.”
We
watched the guys walk away, and Morgan turned and smiled. “What a coincidence.
I had no idea Sean was friends with the guy who pried you out from under the
leg press.” She winked, dodging the piece of ice I tossed at her.
“Should
we go dance?” Morgan looked out at the full dance floor, bouncing in her seat.
Normally I would be jumping at the chance to let loose. I loved dancing, but I
couldn’t imagine doing so with the way my body was protesting while sitting.
“Have
you even been listening to anything I’ve said? Does it not occur to you that if
I can’t walk without looking like I have something shoved up my ass, I just
might not be able to handle the dance floor?” I tried to look pissed, but the
truth was that it really was funny. Of course I wasn’t about to admit that to
Morgan, or she would have me at the gym again in the morning.
“Oh
please … it might actually improve your dancing.” This time my ice hit its
mark.
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About the Author
Taryn discovered her love for books at an early age, spending many
hours lost in someone else's story.
It wasn't until well into adult hood that she discovered, late at
night while the house was quiet, that she had just as many stories inside her
just waiting to be let out. Writing has been a way for her to step away from
reality and live a bit through her fun and sometimes damaged characters. You
will almost always find a Happy Ever After at the end of her stories. She can't
help it, it's an addiction.
She's a Southwestern girl living a Mid-Atlantic life with her
husband of seventeen years and two incredible daughters who inspire her daily.
She is proud to be an advocate for her child with autism, and feels incredibly
blessed to be able to see the world through her eyes. Her daughters teach her
more than she could ever teach them.
She enjoys reading, writing and spending time with her family, but
cherishes those quiet nights after everyone is asleep when she can curl up on
the couch with her sixteen year old dog. (Shh, don't tell...He's not supposed
to be on the couch.)
Keep an eye out for more from her!
Webpage: http://www.tarynplendl.com
Twitter: http://twitter.com/TarynPlendl
Email: tplendlbooks@gmail.com
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