She’s the girl next door. He’s the guy who’s loved her from afar.
They’re in for an unexpected tumble into love.She’ll juggle your balls.
For Stella Allesandro, chaos is good. She’s a rising star at a leading sports publicity firm. She’s known throughout the industry as the jock whisperer—the one who can tame the baddest of the bad boys in professional sports without losing her signature smile.
But Cal Hartshorn is an entirely different kind of chaos.
He’ll fix your broken heart.
This former Army Ranger and now-famous cardiothoracic surgeon fails at nothing…except talking to a woman he’s adored from afar. Whether on the battlefield or operating room, he’s exacting, precise, and efficient, but all of that crumbles when Stella is in sight.
Cal always knows—and gets—what he wants, and now he wants all of her. His forever girl.
But Stella isn’t convinced she’s anyone’s forever.
Check out the other book in the Vital Signs Series…
Eight weeks of forced proximity is a long time to hate someone you’re trying not to love.
Sebastian Stremmel doesn’t need another headache. He has enough of his own without Sara Shapiro, the noisy new reconstructive surgeon, stomping all around his surgical wing with her chippy, chirpy cheerfulness.
But Sebastian doesn’t usually get what he wants.
No one gets under his skin like Sara – so much so a heated “debate” and an exam room left in shambles later, they land themselves in eight weeks of hospital-mandated conflict resolution counseling. Now they’re forced to fight fair…which quickly leads them to playing dirty when no one’s looking.
They know it’s a mistake.
They promise themselves it will never happen again.
They swear they got it out of their systems.
They didn’t.
Author’s Note: Grumpy/recovering people-pleaser sunshine. Introverts attract. Enemies-to-lovers in the workplace. Banter, bicker, and button-pushing foreplay. Don’t tell the friend group, get jealous when the friend group tries to fix her up.
Heat: rip her clothes off before you get the front door open.
Angst: big laughs, big feels, no ugly crying.
I cannot even begin to contain my love for Cal…
Keep reading to see the full Love Note!
Dear Stella,
Valentine’s Day always seems to do this to us. We never catch a break. Either you’re traveling or I’m in the O.R. or something else happens and we just don’t get it together. I thought I had it together for at least a Valentine’s breakfast this year but here it is, 4:45 a.m. and I’m writing you this note because I just got a call from the hospital. I have to head in earlier than expected.
Waking you up after a rocky night with an infant is no way to show you that I love you, especially when you have to get on a flight to New York this afternoon.
And I know that you know I love you, and you don’t need a special day or loud proclamations to make that true. You don’t need much of anything, and if I can be quite honest with you, sweet thing, that’s kind of a pain in my ass. You don’t need jewelry or flowers or anything else that I could box up and tie with a ribbon. It would be real easy for me to order up some sparkly earrings and call it a day, but that’s not who you are, is it?
That shouldn’t come as a surprise to me.
Letting you sleep late. Sending a matcha to your office in the afternoon. Taking the kids to the park while you’re packing for a trip. Hiring someone to handle our Christmas decorations. Scheduling time on your calendar when no one else gets to have you but me.
That’s what you need, even if you don’t ask for it.
I know the ritual of Valentine’s Day means nothing to you but I like these manufactured events that give me a chance to spoil you, even if it’s just with chocolate-covered strawberries for breakfast. On that note, you’ll find those strawberries waiting for you in the fridge. They’re in a takeout container that I’ve labeled “spicy” so you can keep them from the babies. The little one wouldn’t notice but the big one, she knows what’s up.
I’ll see you tomorrow night, Stel.
Love always,
Cal
Kate Canterbary doesn’t have it all figured out, but this is what she knows for sure: spicy-ass salsa and tequila solve most problems, living on the ocean–Pacific or Atlantic–is the closest place to perfection, and writing smart, smutty stories is a better than any amount of chocolate. She started out reporting for an indie arts and entertainment newspaper back when people still read newspapers, and she has been writing and surreptitiously interviewing people—be careful sitting down next to her on an airplane—ever since. Kate lives on the water in New England with Mr. Canterbary and the Little Baby Canterbary, and when she isn’t writing sexy architects, she’s scheduling her days around the region’s best food trucks.
To get in touch with Kate, please email (kcanterbary@gmail.com) or find her on Facebook or Twitter.
How you do it? These characters are so alive in my head, that I really feel like they are my friends, that I really know them; their “inside their head” conversations are so me, that sometimes I forget I’m reading and not living it. Please don’t stop, I’m in love with your universe.