five hundred thousand in investor funds and left her a pile of debt. She’d had no clue how to run her little empire.
Livi had done what any smart girl would do. She’d climbed into bed with a gallon of double-chocolate ripple and cried for a week. Then she’d called her mother. Pauline Kane knew nothing about career management. She had no connections in the fitness world and nowhere near enough money to save her daughter from financial ruin.
But she was a pragmatic businesswoman with a knack for marketing. She consigned Derrick to the bowels of hell, patted her daughter on the shoulder and rolled up her sleeves. Before Livi had recovered from the ice cream−induced gut-ache, Pauline had liquidated all of the business assets, frozen their personal ones, arranged to cosign loans to cover the repayment of investors and taken over Livi’s career.
And Livi had started over.
People thought she’d been hurt by her divorce, but Livi didn’t see it that way. Her divorce had freed her, even if that freedom had carried a hefty price tag. Livi’s only hurt had been in giving up her happy-ever-after dream, the one she’d nurtured since childhood. Derrick hadn’t been that dream. Family had. Livi stared at her fingers as familiar grief poured through her.
Seeing it, Tessa curled her fingers over Livi’s hand and squeezed.
Livi glanced up. Her friend’s eyes were bright, her scowl deep. Then she took a careful breath as if she were about to impart some emotionally supportive, empowering and inspiring words.
“Derrick was a douchebag with a tiny-penis complex who deserves to be thrown under a herd of stampeding discount shoppers on Black Friday.” Tessa pursed her lips then added, “While wearing granny panties.”
Ah, empowerment. Livi considered that image , then blew out a breath. Couldn’t argue with facts like those, either.
“See, another reason to be careful,” Tessa stated. “Look at the mess Douchey Derrick left you with. I’m not saying you should avoid men. Hell, do four at a time if you want. But be, you know, emotionally careful.”
Four?
Where the hell did things go when there were four? Livi debated asking but decided she didn’t want to know.
“It really isn’t a big deal,” she assured Tessa instead. And yes, maybe herself, too. “Mitch is sexy as hell and very nice. But we just met. I’m not going to do anything stupid.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.” Livi sealed the vow with a hug.
“Besides, I don’t even know when we’d go on the date. He’s leaving town for a while.” She leaned back on the couch, frowning a little as it hit her what that actually meant. “The soonest I’ll see or hear from him is when he gets back. And by then, who knows. He might have forgotten all about me.”
The hottest guy she’d ever met.
The first one to make her forget all of her inhibitions.
The one she knew she’d be thinking of for months, if not longer.
He might forget all about the rain check, about their kiss. About her.
That was depressing as hell.
Thanksgiving
Little Creek, Virginia
“D ID YOU GET ENOUGH , Mitchell?”
Enough? Mitch almost laughed. Was that possible? Had he ever tasted anything as delicious as Olivia Kane’s mouth? He could feast on it for hours, days, even. The only thing more tempting than her lips was her body. It was a body made for worship. Perfection wrapped in delight coated with sweetness.
The taste of her filled his senses. If he buried his face in the gentle curve of her throat, he could breathe in her scent. It reminded him of the ocean at midnight—refreshing and cool, with overtones of mysterious danger. It’d only take one deep breath to fill his lungs before he skimmed his lips over her shoulder. Down the smooth skin of her chest before he lost himself in her body.
God, that body.
Taut muscles, generous curves.
High, lush breasts ample enough to bury his face between before he kissed his way over her firm belly. Mile-long legs corded with
Livi had done what any smart girl would do. She’d climbed into bed with a gallon of double-chocolate ripple and cried for a week. Then she’d called her mother. Pauline Kane knew nothing about career management. She had no connections in the fitness world and nowhere near enough money to save her daughter from financial ruin.
But she was a pragmatic businesswoman with a knack for marketing. She consigned Derrick to the bowels of hell, patted her daughter on the shoulder and rolled up her sleeves. Before Livi had recovered from the ice cream−induced gut-ache, Pauline had liquidated all of the business assets, frozen their personal ones, arranged to cosign loans to cover the repayment of investors and taken over Livi’s career.
And Livi had started over.
People thought she’d been hurt by her divorce, but Livi didn’t see it that way. Her divorce had freed her, even if that freedom had carried a hefty price tag. Livi’s only hurt had been in giving up her happy-ever-after dream, the one she’d nurtured since childhood. Derrick hadn’t been that dream. Family had. Livi stared at her fingers as familiar grief poured through her.
Seeing it, Tessa curled her fingers over Livi’s hand and squeezed.
Livi glanced up. Her friend’s eyes were bright, her scowl deep. Then she took a careful breath as if she were about to impart some emotionally supportive, empowering and inspiring words.
“Derrick was a douchebag with a tiny-penis complex who deserves to be thrown under a herd of stampeding discount shoppers on Black Friday.” Tessa pursed her lips then added, “While wearing granny panties.”
Ah, empowerment. Livi considered that image , then blew out a breath. Couldn’t argue with facts like those, either.
“See, another reason to be careful,” Tessa stated. “Look at the mess Douchey Derrick left you with. I’m not saying you should avoid men. Hell, do four at a time if you want. But be, you know, emotionally careful.”
Four?
Where the hell did things go when there were four? Livi debated asking but decided she didn’t want to know.
“It really isn’t a big deal,” she assured Tessa instead. And yes, maybe herself, too. “Mitch is sexy as hell and very nice. But we just met. I’m not going to do anything stupid.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.” Livi sealed the vow with a hug.
“Besides, I don’t even know when we’d go on the date. He’s leaving town for a while.” She leaned back on the couch, frowning a little as it hit her what that actually meant. “The soonest I’ll see or hear from him is when he gets back. And by then, who knows. He might have forgotten all about me.”
The hottest guy she’d ever met.
The first one to make her forget all of her inhibitions.
The one she knew she’d be thinking of for months, if not longer.
He might forget all about the rain check, about their kiss. About her.
That was depressing as hell.
Thanksgiving
Little Creek, Virginia
“D ID YOU GET ENOUGH , Mitchell?”
Enough? Mitch almost laughed. Was that possible? Had he ever tasted anything as delicious as Olivia Kane’s mouth? He could feast on it for hours, days, even. The only thing more tempting than her lips was her body. It was a body made for worship. Perfection wrapped in delight coated with sweetness.
The taste of her filled his senses. If he buried his face in the gentle curve of her throat, he could breathe in her scent. It reminded him of the ocean at midnight—refreshing and cool, with overtones of mysterious danger. It’d only take one deep breath to fill his lungs before he skimmed his lips over her shoulder. Down the smooth skin of her chest before he lost himself in her body.
God, that body.
Taut muscles, generous curves.
High, lush breasts ample enough to bury his face between before he kissed his way over her firm belly. Mile-long legs corded with
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