The Hot One

That would be my favorite kind of alarm clock.

Though, in her defense, she does, indeed, provide cock-a-doodle-doo services on a fairly regular basis.

I am one lucky bastard.

The only part of me that isn’t so lucky is the neck.

This damn cat.

Mr. Crazypants is wrapped around my neck, motherfucking purring in my ear. Don’t get me wrong. This cat is cool as hell. But his cuddly tendencies have put a crook in my spine.

I’ve never been so sore in my life.

Fortunately, I’m involved with the best damn masseuse in all of New York City. She insisted on scheduling a massage for me today. Sure, she rubs my neck at home, too, and last night, she gave me one fantastic massage. But she told me I needed to get my behind into Nirvana at nine a.m. sharp so she could work on me properly. It’s Saturday, and she’s already at work. I gently remove the cat from his scarf pose, swing my legs over the bed, and stretch, trying to work out the kinks.

I hit the shower, get dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, grab my wallet, phone, and shades, and head for the door. The orange fluff ball rubs against my leg.

“Meow!”

Mr. Crazypants rises up on his back legs and paws me with his twelve front toes. Delaney was right—six-toed cats are the bomb. Even though his zealous cuddling is a pain in the neck, he’s a badass dude otherwise. Delaney loves him, and he makes her happy, so that’s a big win-win in my book.

“Be back soon, little dude,” I say, then scratch him between the ears.

He rewards me with a loud rumble, and then I take off.

Fifteen minutes later, I reach the front door of Nirvana. Inside, Felipe greets me with a smile and a waggle of his fingers.

“Delaney is almost ready for you. Let me show you back. And I know you’re still a no-robe man,” he says as he escorts me to the Rainfall Room.

“No robes forever. That’s my mantra.”

Felipe opens the door, shoots me a smile, and shuts it as he leaves. I strip down to nothing, thinking back briefly to when I did this many months ago. I smile privately, loving that it set the two of us in motion.

I fold my clothes, place them on top of a stool, and climb onto the table. I know the routine well by now, since Delaney schedules regular massages for me.

We moved in together after a few months of dating. “The cat wants it, and so do I,” she said one Sunday afternoon following another epic session of walking and kissing—in Greenwich Village that particular day, wandering in and out of shops and cafés.

“If Mr. Crazypants wants me full-time, then so be it,” I’d said.

“And me,” she’d reminded me.

We moved into my apartment, and she quickly added her feminine touches, including setting some lovely lilacs by the window. I did my part by making sure she had all the closet space she needed. For her clothes, and for all those new shoes.

As I linger on a recent memory of her wearing silver pumps while waiting for me in the kitchen, holding a glass of chardonnay, the door opens. I peer up from the face cradle to see a blond beauty wearing yoga pants and a sweet smile just for me.

“Hey, angel.”

“Hey, handsome.” She comes to my side and drops a soft kiss on my cheek. Her hair brushes against my skin.

“Mmm,” I murmur, and I’m about to tug her onto the table with me, even though she has a strict no-screwing-at-work policy.

But then, she drops to her knees.

Startled, I prop myself up on my elbow. “What’s up?”

She’s not just on her knees. She’s on one knee. She holds a black jewelry box. “This is where we started again. Where you showed up and made a grand gesture to win my heart. And you won it big time. Now I’m asking if you’re ready for the next big gesture, because I know I am.”

I blink as it registers. As the sheer enormity of this moment hits me. She’s ready. She’s fucking ready.

I part my lips to speak, but she’s faster.

“Ask me again,” she says, her voice soft but sure.

And I suppose it couldn’t be more fitting that I’m naked. I slide out from under the sheet, yank her up to the table so she’s perched right next to me on the edge, then take the box in my hand. “Will you marry me?”

She grins like the happiest person in the world, and she nods and nods and keeps on nodding. “Yes, yes, yes.”

I slide the ring on her finger, where it belongs. She holds up her hand and the diamond sparkles in the dimly lit room.

At last.

It took me nearly a decade to find my way back to her. But when the love of your life slips through your fingers, then you’re lucky enough to stumble into her life again, you do everything you can to win her back, even if you have to wait until she’s ready.

I waited. I did it step by step. I didn’t cut corners. I took my time.

She’s no longer the one who got away.

She’s the one I’m keeping close to my heart for all time.



* * *



THE END



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Curious about Nicole? Find out who she falls for in THE WILD ONE, releasing in summer 2017!Sign up for my newsletter to receive an alert when these sexy new books are available! Here’s the sexy cover for THE WILD ONE and the blurb follows!





There are four words every guy wants to hear on the first date — “your place or mine?”



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That’s why when my hot-as-sin co-worker makes me a no-strings-attached offer that involves her place, my place, any place — as well as any position — I can’t refuse.



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After all, my job is like a coach and my goal is to help my fellow man figure out how to score a woman. My latest assignment for the good of mankind? Create a fail-safe, 100% battle tested, proven list of what to do or say to get a woman to fall into your bed — I mean, fall for you. So when Nicole says she’s game to work through my list in a hands-on way, I take her up on her deal even with her one condition.



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There’s no way I’ll want more from one woman than any position, any where, any night?



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Except . . . what if I do?



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****



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There are three little words most guys don’t want to hear on the first date.



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Not those…



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I mean these… “knock me up.”



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This single gal has had enough of the games, the BS and the endless chase. I know what I want most, and it’s not true love. It’s a bun in the oven, and I’m not afraid to hit up my sex-on-a-stick co-worker to do the job. Ryder is gorgeous, witty and wild — and he’s also a notorious commitment-phobe. That makes him the perfect candidate to make a deposit in the bank of me.



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I won’t fall for him, he won’t fall for me, and there’s no way baby will make three.



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Right?



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Stay tuned for THE WILD ONE, coming this summer!



* * *



My next all-guy POV romantic comedy is JOY STICK and it releases in May! Turn the page for a sneak peek!





Coming Soon!





* * *



Prologue



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