Reid Durand isn’t here to make friends.
Coming from a legacy of hockey greatness, he has games to win and things to prove. With his focus during his first season as a Chicago Rebel on his drive to succeed, every vice is off the table. No booze, no sugar, and definitely no women.
Kennedy Clark is the master of the side hustle.
She’ll walk your dog, brew your espresso, and pick up your dry-cleaning, all while rocking it in Warrior pose. Standing still is impossible for her, because the moment she starts to slow down, it’ll come rushing back in a torrent. The memories. The pain. The heartbreak.
Their meet-cute is more of a freeze-cute. Besides, they already know each other. He’s the rude, entitled customer at her coffee shop, or what used to be her coffee shop since she just got fired—because of Mr. Extra Shot Americano himself.
Reid didn’t intend to get Kennedy fired.
He didn’t intend to rescue a dog after the poor thing ended up in the lake.
And he definitely didn’t intend to acquire a new roommate.A curvy, chatty, tempting roommate.
Now this perfect storm of events are about to wreak havoc on his neatly-ordered life.Reid Durand isn’t here to make friends, and he’s certainly not here to lose his heart to a puppy, a team, or a chaos agent like Kennedy. But then we don’t always get what we want …
Reid gets so swoony for his Coffee Shop Girl…
Keep reading to see the full Love Note!
To my Coffee Shop Girl,
Today’s our anniversary—not of the day I rudely ignored you at the coffee shop for the first time or said you could move into my place or even when I asked you to marry me. No, it’s a year to the day since we both took a dip in the frigid waters of Lake Michigan hoping to save a desperate puppy in trouble.
But really I was the one in trouble. I was the one who needed to be rescued. To be hauled out of the cold, dark abyss of my life into the warm, gentle sun of you. Before that day I fumbled about blindly with one goal: to spit in the eye of the world and tell it to go to hell (okay, two goals). I wasn’t here to make friends, win over fans, or tread an easier path. I fought against the warmth you brought, the sweetness you poured into my life. Because I knew once I let a chink of light in, I’d be a goner.
Consider me gone, Kennedy. Fallen, toppled, flat out at your feet. You make every moment of my life better. And if I had to jump into a lake a million times over, I’d do it in a heartbeat knowing that you’ll always pull me to shore.
Yours forever,
Hot Jerk
Originally from Ireland, USA Today bestselling author Kate Meader cut her romance reader teeth on Maeve Binchy and Jilly Cooper novels, with some Harlequins thrown in for variety. Give her tales about brooding mill owners, oversexed equestrians, and men who can rock an apron or a fire hose, and she’s there. Now based in Chicago, she writes sexy contemporary romance with alpha heroes and strong heroines – and heroes – who can match their men quip for quip.
Awe…so dang sweet