 by Tory Baker.jpg)
Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 55171 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55171 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
She goes straight to my… heart. If there’s one girl out there I shouldn’t mess with, it’s Stormy.
Everything about her screams off limits.
She’s too young, hurting from being screwed over, and my niece’s best friend. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no saint.
But this girl is the biggest temptation I’ve ever had.
That’s anything but good—especially in the small town we live in. When her world is turned upside down on what was supposed to be her wedding day, I come to her rescue. As we walk out of the venue together, her dress in shambles, a bottle of tequila in one of her hands, and holding onto me with the other, tongues start wagging. Stormy doesn’t seem to care. I can’t say I do either. The longer I’m near her, the deeper I get.
For once in my life, I’m not looking for a thrill, or even freedom.
I just want her.
This is the forth book in the Men in Charge series, each book will be a complete stand alone, the common denominator? An alpha Hero, a man that goes after what he wants, a guaranteed happily ever after, and of course steamy romance!
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
PROLOGUE
ONE WEEK EARLIER
Stormy
“Harder, yes, right there.” I stop in my tracks. I know that voice. Sounds like my best friend is hooking up with one of the groomsmen. Which sucks because I need her. This godawful dress I somehow was roped into wearing at this godawful ceremony, not to mention the godawful amount of people. Attention, good or bad, is not my idea of fun. Three hundred people, mostly Zach’s family, conglomerates, and half the fucking town. Yeah, no freaking thanks. Except I got railroaded by Zach’s mom. A force to be reckoned with, wearing me so far down it was easier to agree than stand my ground.
“Fuck yeah, you like being my dirty little secret, don’t you, Mel.” Ice runs through my veins. I fucking know that voice, too. That voice behind the heavy wooden door, inside this monstrosity of a ceremony location, a freaking clubhouse. I wanted a small intimate wedding with friends and family, one hundred people max. My hand goes to my chest, making sure my heart is still beating. Lucky for me, it is. Unlucky for me, it is too. There’s no way I’m imagining Zach’s voice. I’d know it anywhere on any day of the week. My hand wraps around the silver knob, and I slowly turn the handle, trying to stay as quiet as possible, as if this is a horrible dream and once I open the door, I’ll wake up. Except I know the possibility is moot. This is what horror movies are made of, like the leading character running upstairs instead of out the door when the killer is in the house. Well, look at me, staying rooted in place, opening a door to the scene in front of me. My best friend, or ex-best friend, is currently bent at the waist, maid of honor dress hiked up while my fiancé pistons his hips in and out of her body. Jesus, if this son of a biscuit eater isn’t using a condom, I’m going to strangle him with my bare hands. Though, I’d bet my last dollar he isn’t. Which means my wedding day, a day meant to be happy, is fucking toast. I mean, I’m not expecting it to be Cinderella magnificent, but this, this is the last thing I ever expected.
I could scream, I could cry, I could do both at once, but instead, I take a deep breath and open the door wider, allowing any passersby to get a bird’s eye view of the free porn show, and I top it off even better: I clap. A standing ovation of one. It takes them a moment to realize I’m cheering them on. Mel and Zach stutter in their sexual escapades. “Bravo,” I finally say. My hands come together in a rhythmic applause, repeating it until they get the idea they’re no longer alone.
“It’s not what it looks like.” Zach pulls out of Melanie, sloppily, just as I figured. I’ll be adding a doctor’s appointment along with an STD testing. Yay fucking me.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I’m calm, cool, and collected, almost too tranquil. My namesake is doing nothing for me right now because I should be angry and crying, yet none of those emotions hit me. I’m left feeling upset at myself more than anything. Did my friendship with Melissa mean so little that she’d toss it away after more than twenty years of friendship, for sex with Zach? Zach, who I thought was going to be my end all, be all. Boy, was I wrong. Assuming really does make an ass out of you and me.