All
Fired Up (Paperback)
by Lori
Foster
ISBN:
9781335505071
Imprint:
HQN Books
Categories:
Contemporary Women's Fiction, Contemporary Romance
Series:
Road to Love
SUMMARY:
He’s tantalizing trouble she can’t resist…
Charlotte Parrish has always wanted a certain
kind of man: someone responsible, settled, boring. Bad boys need not apply. But
when her car leaves her stranded and a mysterious stranger with brooding eyes
and a protective streak comes to her rescue, she can’t deny how drawn she is to
him. In town searching for family he’s never met, Mitch is everything she never
thought she wanted—and suddenly everything she craves.
Finding his half brothers after all these
years is more than Mitch Crews has allowed himself to wish for. Finding love
never even crossed his mind…until he meets Charlotte. She’s sweet, warmhearted,
sexier than she knows—and too damn good for an ex-con like him. But when his
past comes back to haunt him, putting Charlotte—and the family he’s come to
care for—in danger, Mitch isn’t playing by the rules. He’s already surrendered
his heart, but now he’ll risk his life.
BUY LINKS:
Kobo
EXCERPT:
From CHAPTER ONE
The warm, muggy night closed around him,
leaving his shirt damp in places. Sweat prickled the back of his neck. Inside
Freddie’s he’d find air-conditioning, but he’d never again take fresh air for
granted. He valued every single breath of humid air that filled his lungs.
The
moon climbed the black sky as time slipped by. How much time, he didn’t know:
he’d stopped keeping track the second he saw her.
Headlights
from the occasional passing car came near him but didn’t intrude on the shadows
where he stood.
Transfixed
by her.
Damn,
he wanted that mouth.
In
the short time he’d locked eyes on her, a dozen fantasies had formed—most of
them based on her naked lips, the way she occasionally pursed them, how she
twisted her lips to the side in frustration, even how she blew out a breath.
The whole package was nice…but it was her mouth that kept him unmoving,
staring. Imagining.
Slight
of build, she served as a bright spot in the dark gloom. Understated and yet
something struck him as undeniably sexy.
Once he’d
noticed her, he couldn’t look away.
After speaking
softly into a phone, she bit her plump bottom lip, and her expression showed
frustrated defeat.
The lady had
made several consecutive calls. Was she in need of assistance? Given the way she’d
circled a car, occasionally glaring at it, he thought she did. Judging by her
frown, there wouldn’t be any help on the way.
Since getting
out of prison a year ago, Mitch had spent an excess of time with women. Hell,
next to fresh air, freedom and steak, sex topped his list. He’d immersed
himself in human contact, the gentleness, the carnality.
He’d taken
satisfaction in pleasing someone else while abating a base need. Hell, watching
a woman come gave him as much pleasure as his own release.
So he’d gotten
his fill and then some—all while making plans to change the course of his life.
To make it better. To carve out a meaningful future.
Here he was,
where he needed to be, determined, resolute… and sidetracked by a gorgeous
woman.
That in itself
left him edgy with curiosity. No other woman had snagged his attention this
way. He knew zip about her, and yet seeing her had heat building beneath his
skin.
He tried to look
away, but his attention kept zeroing back.
Freaking
bizarre.
It was like
seeing something you hadn’t known you wanted, but immediately recognizing it as
necessary.
Even dressed in
jeans, a T-shirt and flip-flops, he knew the lady had nothing in common with
him. Innocence all but screamed from her slender body and reserved manner. To
someone with his jaded background, that put her in the “do not touch” category.
His fingers
curled and his palms burned. Yeah, he wanted to touch her despite that.
And he didn’t
look away.
From the
shadowed corner just outside the bar, he watched her thumb dial another number
into her phone. While holding the phone to her ear, she paced. The overhead
glow of the security light touched her in select places, alternately
highlighting and then shadowing her understated curves.
High cheekbones
framed a slender, straight nose. She tucked a few drifting curls behind a small
ear. Though rounded, he saw the mulish determination in her stubborn little
chin.
And that
mouth…thoughts of it under his
mouth—and on his body—tightened his jaw until his molars ached.
For the first
time in years, he wondered if he could put off his agenda for a bit, say
something to her, see if there was something between them despite the seemingly
obvious roadblocks.
Opposites
attract, and all that.
He’d made this
trip a center point for a new future.
In this Podunk
town he’d subtly uncovered what he could about Brodie and Jack Crews. That was
the priority after all. Moving forward, leaving the past behind. It started
with the Crews brothers. Hitting the bar tonight might have gained him more
insight into them.
But would a
slight detour—the type with long curly brown hair and a sweet little
body—matter so much?
If he listened
to his dick, the answer was no. His balls were giving a resounding “go for it”
as well.
His head though…
Hell, his head claimed he could afford a delay. In the grand scheme of things,
it wouldn’t matter.
Since arriving
in town, he’d discovered that the men were well liked, each of them married,
and they had an odd but interesting business called Mustang Transport. Locals
claimed they dealt with mundane shit as well as serial killers and psychopaths.
Somewhere in the middle, the truth lurked.
He’d also heard
about their mother. He’d been hearing about her for as long as he could
remember. For very different reasons she interested him almost as much as
Brodie and Jack.
He had no
connection to Rosalyn Crews, but meeting the men felt important in a way
nothing else ever had. He couldn’t explain it, even to himself. He’d gone
through life making damn sure he needed no one, and that he wanted only for
things he could get for himself.
Now, much as it
chapped his ass, he wanted something else— and it depended on Brodie and Jack
Crews.
It didn’t have
to happen right away, though. He wouldn’t mind burning off some energy before
making that initial contact—especially if he could convince this woman to give him a few hours of
her time.
He noted every
small movement as she spoke into her phone. He couldn’t catch every word, but
the low murmur of her voice stroked over him. He was pretty sure she left a
message.
Suddenly she
held the phone back and stared at it. Hot annoyance tightened her mouth and
brought down her brows.
“Perfect. Just
freaking perfect.”
He heard that
loud and clear.
Jamming the
phone into a back pocket—a tight fit over that sweetly rounded backside—she
dropped her head with a throaty groan that traveled along his spine like a
sensual stroke. Her eyes closed, her mouth flattened, and the damp night drew
her long, light brown hair into coiling curls.
He’d love to
tangle his fingers in her unruly hair.
As if spurred by
her innate energy, the curls moved, bouncing a little, drifting with the
breeze. Judging people had kept him alive. With this woman, he sensed she
didn’t indulge in downtime very often. Even standing still, she seemed to…spark
with energy.
Curiosity cut
into him, mingling with the carnal interest.
Had she been
stood up? Walked out on a date?
Just then she
growled, “Dead. Stupid phone.” The thump of her hand to a metal lamppost sent a
dull clang ringing over the area. “Now what?”
Ah, well that
answered his question.
White teeth
nibbled her bottom lip in consideration. Considering, she glanced at the bar,
shook her head once, and returned to pacing.
Clouds covered
the moon, amplifying the darkness. She was far too petite to be stranded alone.
Doesn’t mean she wants a quick fuck, he argued with himself.
The young woman
stewing in front of him might be more likely to sell brownies at a local bake
sale, but engage in a hot one-night stand? Probably not.
Sure, she was
standing outside a rowdy bar all alone on a late night—but then, so was he.
So what should
he do? Be smart and turn away, or see if she needed help? He remained undecided
when two men exited the bar with a lot of noisy fanfare.
Drunken asses.
The woman
glanced up, then quickly away with a roll of her eyes—but not quickly enough to
avoid notice.
“Charlotte, hey!
Whatssup?” With a leer, a mop-headed man added, “You waitin’ for me, sugar?”
Mitch caught the
way his unshaven bud snickered, proving the irony in the question.
“Definitely
not,” she replied, her tone crisp and clear.
Mitch liked the
sound of her voice. Not all girly or too sweet, but firm and no-nonsense.
He did not like how the two dunces eyeballed
her anyway, stumbling in her direction despite her preferences.
“Ah, c’mon now,
don’t be like that,” the talkative one said.
His idiot friend
guffawed, stumbled and heckled some more.
Charlotte—nice name—propped her hands on slim hips
and issued a dire warning. “You’d be smart to keep walking, Bernie.”
“How come you’re
here alone?” He tried a teasing voice that Mitch suspected did the opposite of
entice. “You know where to find me this time of night.”
“Drunk, as
usual. Yes, I know.” Annoyance squared her narrow shoulders. “Not that it’s any
of your business, but I finished a late delivery and was heading home, then had
car trouble.”
She added with
menace, “Help is on the way.”
“I’ll keep ya
company until then.”
“No, you will
not.”
“But I’m already
here.” Intent brought Bernie closer.
She didn’t
exactly look afraid, but more like fed up. Before Mitch gave it enough thought,
his feet carried him out of the shadows and immediately drew her attention.
Soft blue. Now
that he saw her eyes more clearly, he found them every bit as compelling as her
mouth.
Alert, maybe a
little wary, she zeroed in on him. Her lips parted and she blinked twice.
You’re sealing your fate, sugar. He tried a smile of part interest, part reassurance.
Her gaze went
beyond him, searching the darkness, and then snapped back again. “Where did you
come from?”
With his
attention only on her, Mitch held up his hands and avoided a direct answer.
“Just seeing if you need any help.”
Emboldened by
liquid courage, the two men blustered at him. “G’lost, asshole. She don’t need
nothin’ from you.”
As if Bernie and
his bad grammar didn’t hover there beside her, Charlotte asked, “You’re new
around here?”
Mitch gave her a
long look. What, did she know everyone in Red Oak, Ohio? Probably. He could jog
the main street, one end to the other, without breaking a sweat. “I’ve been
here a few days.” Whether he was passing through, or sticking around, wasn’t
her business. Besides, for now, he wasn’t sure.
Brazen stupidity
urged Bernie to step up in front of him. “You ain’t listening. I told you to—”
Disgust curved
Mitch’s mouth into a mean smile meant to intimidate. “You’re right. I’m not
listening to you.” Insulting disregard took his gaze over the smaller man
before he dismissed him. “I’m talking only to her.”
By size
difference alone, it was beyond ludicrous for Bernie to issue a challenge.
And yet, he did.
“Are you fuckin’ stupid?”
Charlotte’s
voice, now edged with anger, interrupted anything Mitch might have replied or
done. “You’ve been warned, Bernie. If you don’t knock it off right now, you are
not going to like the consequences.”
Still, the fool
didn’t listen. “I said,” Bernie blasted, his breath putrid, “for you to get lost.” A scrawny fist, aiming for
Mitch’s face, swatted through the air.
Bad move, asshole.
Instincts could
be a son of a bitch. Mitch leaned away from the weak hit…and at the same time
automatically jabbed with his right.
His fist landed
right on Bernie’s chin.
Eyes rolling
back, the smaller man started to drop.
Infuriated that
he’d lost his grip in front of Charlotte, Mitch caught the front of Bernie’s
shirt and held him on his tiptoes. “You,” he whispered between barely moving
lips, “need to learn when to quit.” Familiar anger surfaced despite his efforts
to tamp it down…
And a small,
cool hand touched him.
Struck clean
down to his toes, Mitch peered first at those pale, tapered fingers with short,
neat nails resting lightly against the roped muscles of his sun-darkened
forearm.
Fucking sexy,
that’s what it was, highlighting all their differences, especially those of
strength and capability.
Her face drew
him next, the delicate lines, smooth skin…that mouth and those eyes.
That wild hair.
“I think,” she
said softly, a smile teasing her mouth, “if you let Bernie go now, he’ll make a
hasty retreat.” Slanting those mesmerizing eyes toward old Bernie, she added
with silky menace, “At least, he better.”
Keen awareness
nudged out anger.
Everything about
her appealed to him.
She stood to his
left, and the heady scent of her skin and hair—like baby powder and
flowers—teased his nose.
He drew a
deeper, fuller breath, filling his lungs with her and knew he could happily
drown on that scent.
Slowly, wanting
to keep her close, Mitch unclenched his fingers and allowed Bernie to stumble
back to where his buddy helped to prop him up.
Unconcerned with
that, Charlotte’s fingers shifted in the lightest of explorations before she
snatched her hand away.
Interesting—especially
that splash of color on her cheeks.
She looked up at
him, gave a wan smile, and whispered, “Thank you.”
“For popping
him?”
Curls bounced as
she gave a quick shake of her head. “For not doing him more damage.” She
wrinkled her nose, leaning closer to confide, “You could have, I know.”
Huh. No
recriminations?
She actually thanked him?
Not what he was
used to, but he’d take it.
Excerpted from All Fired
Up by Lori Foster. Copyright © 2019 by Lori
Foster Published by HQN Books.
AUTHOR
BIO:
SOCIAL LINKS:
Facebook - @lorifoster
Twitter - @LoriLFoster
Instagram - @LoriLFoster
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