Title: The Problem with Heartache
(#3 of Crazy in Love)
Author: Lauren K. McKellar
Genre: Contemporary Romance, NA
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The problem with heartache is that there’s no one-size-fits-all relief package. You can go to classes; you can try to embrace change. But when you wake up at two in the morning, a smile on your face because you’ve dreamt about the could have—the should have—nothing will console you.
Because seconds later, you remember.
And remembering can rip you apart.
Kate will do anything for her family. It’s why she took the job with Lee. It’s why she’s attempting to forget her pain. But it's hard to forget, when you're desperate to hold on. Even if Lee Collins is the perfect package.
Lee will do anything for the ones he cares about. It’s why he hired Kate.
It’s why he keeps his secrets, and it’s why he cannot, will not fall in love. Not with Kate—not with anyone.
The one thing he can’t forgive.
The one thing she can’t forget
Excerpt . . .
“In there?” I smirked again, but her cheeks didn’t get any redder, to my astonishment. “Is now really the time?”
She pushed against my naked chest, her steely eyes fixed on my face the whole time, then slammed the door behind us with her foot.
“If you wanted some private time together, you just had to say so.” I joked, leaning back against the chair that was positioned in front of the mirror in my dressing room.
“You think this is funny?” Kate asked, her head tilted to the side.
“Actually … yeah.” I nodded and smiled again, not unkindly.
Kate looked down, and for one God-awful moment I thought she was going to cry.
Then, she did something better than crying. Holy mother of crap sticks, was this better than crying.
She raised her hands to the top of her black button-up shirt—and she undid the top button. Creamy, white skin is exposed, defined collarbones, teasing my eyes down to--
She undid another button. Holy fuck, what was Kate doing? Her cleavage heaved in front of me, and I got a hint, just a hint of her black lacy bra.
“It cannot be a coincidence that one man is shirtless in front of me six times in two weeks.”
I grinned. She’d counted.
That totally means she’s into it.
Then she did something that completely surprised me. Hell, it shocked the living daylight out of me. In one fluid movement, she grabbed the sides of her shirt and pulled, popping open her entire top and then shrugging it over her shoulders so she stood there in the world’s hottest black, lacy bra, skin-tight black denim jeans and these shoes—how the hell did I not notice them before?—that were red, high, and sexy as sin.
I swallowed. “So … this is a revenge …” Swallow, “… strip?”
“This is me, trying to do something to get you to pay attention and listen when I ask you to do something.” Kate’s voice was honey as it melted into me.
I raised my hand to the back of my neck and rubbed at the muscles there that had suddenly become tight with tension. “Oh, I’m paying attention, all right.” I widened my eyes. There was absolutely no doubt about that right now.
“Get back stage, Lee. Seriously. This is your last warning.”
I swallowed again, and felt the clamminess of perspiration beading my brow. Was it hot in here? It sure felt hot.
She stepped close to me, till her chest was almost touching my chest. Shit, she smelt like soap and hairspray and … apples. Delicious.
“I …” My gaze flicked to her lips, and I wondered if it would really be that bad if I kissed her. After all, that wouldn’t be promising her marriage, and maybe she’d be up for a casual thing. And her lips—they were so red, and plump, and—oh God, she just licked them with that sweet-as-hell little tongue, and--
The palm of her hand made contact with my face before I even registered her arm moving. Five elegant fingers stung my cheek and I jerked backward, clutching my face in pain. “What the hell?”
Kate walked over to where her shirt lay on the floor and picked it up, casually shrugging it on. She had the biggest shit-eating grin on her face, and I couldn’t help but give a little smile myself. I’d not seen her look so animated since she first boarded the bus.
“I told you it was your final warning,” she said, doing up her buttons, then turned to the door, wrenching it open and making a sweeping gesture with her arm, allowing me passage through. “Now, Mr Collins, if you please.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled, walking past her and out into the corridor. I passed Xander’s door, and a thought flashed through my mind. What if she stripped for all the guys to get them on stage? I couldn’t have her just--
“Lee?” The voice halted me in my tracks. I spun to face her.
She threw my black shirt at me. “Put some clothes on.”
Giveaway . . .
About the Author . . .
Lauren lives by the beach in Australia with her husband and their two dogs. Most of the time, all three of them are well behaved.
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