All Fired Up By Lori Foster #Excerpt
On Sale: Nov 19,
2019
All Fired Up
(Paperback)
by Lori Foster
ISBN: 9781335505071
Imprint: HQN Books
Categories:
Contemporary Women's Fiction, Contemporary Romance
Series: Road to Love
SUMMARY:
He’s tantalizing
trouble she can’t resist…
Charlotte Parrish has
always wanted a certain kind of man: someone responsible, settled,
boring. Bad boys need not apply. But when her car leaves her stranded
and a mysterious stranger with brooding eyes and a protective streak
comes to her rescue, she can’t deny how drawn she is to him. In
town searching for family he’s never met, Mitch is everything she
never thought she wanted—and suddenly everything she craves.
Finding his half
brothers after all these years is more than Mitch Crews has allowed
himself to wish for. Finding love never even crossed his mind…until
he meets Charlotte. She’s sweet, warmhearted, sexier than she
knows—and too damn good for an ex-con like him. But when his past
comes back to haunt him, putting Charlotte—and the family he’s
come to care for—in danger, Mitch isn’t playing by the rules.
He’s already surrendered his heart, but now he’ll risk his life.
AUTHOR BIO:
Lori
Foster is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author with
books from a variety of publishers, including Berkley/Jove,
Kensington, St. Martin's, Harlequin and Silhouette. Lori has been a
recipient of the prestigious RT Book Reviews Career Achievement Award
for Series Romantic Fantasy, and for Contemporary Romance. For more
about Lori, visit her Web site at www.lorifoster.com.
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EXCERPT:
The warm, muggy night
closed around him, leaving his shirt damp in places. Sweat prickled
the back of his neck. Inside Freddie’s he’d find
air-conditioning, but he’d never again take fresh air for granted.
He valued every single breath of humid air that filled his lungs.
The moon climbed the
black sky as time slipped by. How much time, he didn’t know: he’d
stopped keeping track the second he saw her.
Headlights from the
occasional passing car came near him but didn’t intrude on the
shadows where he stood.
Transfixed by her.
Damn, he wanted that
mouth.
In the short time he’d
locked eyes on her, a dozen fantasies had formed—most of them based
on her naked lips, the way she occasionally pursed them, how she
twisted her lips to the side in frustration, even how she blew out a
breath. The whole package was nice…but it was her mouth that kept
him unmoving, staring. Imagining.
Slight of build, she
served as a bright spot in the dark gloom. Understated and yet
something struck him as undeniably sexy.
Once
he’d noticed her, he couldn’t look away.
After
speaking softly into a phone, she bit her plump bottom lip, and her
expression showed frustrated defeat.
The
lady had made several consecutive calls. Was she in need of
assistance? Given the way she’d circled a car, occasionally glaring
at it, he thought she did. Judging by her frown, there wouldn’t be
any help on the way.
Since
getting out of prison a year ago, Mitch had spent an excess of time
with women. Hell, next to fresh air, freedom and steak, sex topped
his list. He’d immersed himself in human contact, the gentleness,
the carnality.
He’d
taken satisfaction in pleasing someone else while abating a base
need. Hell, watching a woman come gave him as much pleasure as his
own release.
So
he’d gotten his fill and then some—all while making plans to
change the course of his life. To make it better. To carve out a
meaningful future.
Here
he was, where he needed to be, determined, resolute… and
sidetracked by a gorgeous woman.
That
in itself left him edgy with curiosity. No other woman had snagged
his attention this way. He knew zip about her, and yet seeing her had
heat building beneath his skin.
He
tried to look away, but his attention kept zeroing back.
Freaking
bizarre.
It
was like seeing something you hadn’t known you wanted, but
immediately recognizing it as necessary.
Even
dressed in jeans, a T-shirt and flip-flops, he knew the lady had
nothing in common with him. Innocence all but screamed from her
slender body and reserved manner. To someone with his jaded
background, that put her in the “do not touch” category.
His
fingers curled and his palms burned. Yeah, he wanted to touch her
despite that.
And
he didn’t look away.
From
the shadowed corner just outside the bar, he watched her thumb dial
another number into her phone. While holding the phone to her ear,
she paced. The overhead glow of the security light touched her in
select places, alternately highlighting and then shadowing her
understated curves.
High
cheekbones framed a slender, straight nose. She tucked a few drifting
curls behind a small ear. Though rounded, he saw the mulish
determination in her stubborn little chin.
And
that mouth…thoughts of it under his mouth—and on his
body—tightened his jaw until his molars ached.
For
the first time in years, he wondered if he could put off his agenda
for a bit, say something to her, see if there was something between
them despite the seemingly obvious roadblocks.
Opposites
attract, and all that.
He’d
made this trip a center point for a new future.
In
this Podunk town he’d subtly uncovered what he could about Brodie
and Jack Crews. That was the priority after all. Moving forward,
leaving the past behind. It started with the Crews brothers. Hitting
the bar tonight might have gained him more insight into them.
But
would a slight detour—the type with long curly brown hair and a
sweet little body—matter so much?
If
he listened to his dick, the answer was no. His balls were giving a
resounding “go for it” as well.
His
head though… Hell, his head claimed he could afford a delay. In the
grand scheme of things, it wouldn’t matter.
Since
arriving in town, he’d discovered that the men were well liked,
each of them married, and they had an odd but interesting business
called Mustang Transport. Locals claimed they dealt with mundane shit
as well as serial killers and psychopaths. Somewhere in the middle,
the truth lurked.
He’d
also heard about their mother. He’d been hearing about her for as
long as he could remember. For very different reasons she interested
him almost as much as Brodie and Jack.
He
had no connection to Rosalyn Crews, but meeting the men felt
important in a way nothing else ever had. He couldn’t explain it,
even to himself. He’d gone through life making damn sure he needed
no one, and that he wanted only for things he could get for himself.
Now,
much as it chapped his ass, he wanted something else— and it
depended on Brodie and Jack Crews.
It
didn’t have to happen right away, though. He wouldn’t mind
burning off some energy before making that initial contact—especially
if he could convince this woman to give him a few hours of her
time.
He
noted every small movement as she spoke into her phone. He couldn’t
catch every word, but the low murmur of her voice stroked over him.
He was pretty sure she left a message.
Suddenly
she held the phone back and stared at it. Hot annoyance tightened her
mouth and brought down her brows.
“Perfect.
Just freaking perfect.”
He
heard that loud and clear.
Jamming
the phone into a back pocket—a tight fit over that sweetly rounded
backside—she dropped her head with a throaty groan that traveled
along his spine like a sensual stroke. Her eyes closed, her mouth
flattened, and the damp night drew her long, light brown hair into
coiling curls.
He’d
love to tangle his fingers in her unruly hair.
As
if spurred by her innate energy, the curls moved, bouncing a little,
drifting with the breeze. Judging people had kept him alive. With
this woman, he sensed she didn’t indulge in downtime very often.
Even standing still, she seemed to…spark with energy.
Curiosity
cut into him, mingling with the carnal interest.
Had
she been stood up? Walked out on a date?
Just
then she growled, “Dead. Stupid phone.” The thump of her hand to
a metal lamppost sent a dull clang ringing over the area. “Now
what?”
Ah,
well that answered his question.
White
teeth nibbled her bottom lip in consideration. Considering, she
glanced at the bar, shook her head once, and returned to pacing.
Clouds
covered the moon, amplifying the darkness. She was far too petite to
be stranded alone.
Doesn’t
mean she wants a quick fuck, he argued with himself.
The
young woman stewing in front of him might be more likely to sell
brownies at a local bake sale, but engage in a hot one-night stand?
Probably not.
Sure,
she was standing outside a rowdy bar all alone on a late night—but
then, so was he.
So
what should he do? Be smart and turn away, or see if she needed help?
He remained undecided when two men exited the bar with a lot of noisy
fanfare.
Drunken
asses.
The
woman glanced up, then quickly away with a roll of her eyes—but not
quickly enough to avoid notice.
“Charlotte,
hey! Whatssup?” With a leer, a mop-headed man added, “You waitin’
for me, sugar?”
Mitch
caught the way his unshaven bud snickered, proving the irony in the
question.
“Definitely
not,” she replied, her tone crisp and clear.
Mitch
liked the sound of her voice. Not all girly or too sweet, but firm
and no-nonsense.
He
did not like how the two dunces eyeballed her anyway,
stumbling in her direction despite her preferences.
“Ah,
c’mon now, don’t be like that,” the talkative one said.
His
idiot friend guffawed, stumbled and heckled some more.
Charlotte—nice
name—propped her hands on slim hips and issued a dire warning.
“You’d be smart to keep walking, Bernie.”
“How
come you’re here alone?” He tried a teasing voice that Mitch
suspected did the opposite of entice. “You know where to find me
this time of night.”
“Drunk,
as usual. Yes, I know.” Annoyance squared her narrow shoulders.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I finished a late
delivery and was heading home, then had car trouble.”
She
added with menace, “Help is on the way.”
“I’ll
keep ya company until then.”
“No,
you will not.”
“But
I’m already here.” Intent brought Bernie closer.
She
didn’t exactly look afraid, but more like fed up. Before Mitch gave
it enough thought, his feet carried him out of the shadows and
immediately drew her attention.
Soft
blue. Now that he saw her eyes more clearly, he found them every bit
as compelling as her mouth.
Alert,
maybe a little wary, she zeroed in on him. Her lips parted and she
blinked twice.
You’re
sealing your fate, sugar. He tried a smile of part interest, part
reassurance.
Her
gaze went beyond him, searching the darkness, and then snapped back
again. “Where did you come from?”
With
his attention only on her, Mitch held up his hands and avoided a
direct answer. “Just seeing if you need any help.”
Emboldened
by liquid courage, the two men blustered at him. “G’lost,
asshole. She don’t need nothin’ from you.”
As
if Bernie and his bad grammar didn’t hover there beside her,
Charlotte asked, “You’re new around here?”
Mitch
gave her a long look. What, did she know everyone in Red Oak, Ohio?
Probably. He could jog the main street, one end to the other, without
breaking a sweat. “I’ve been here a few days.” Whether he was
passing through, or sticking around, wasn’t her business. Besides,
for now, he wasn’t sure.
Brazen
stupidity urged Bernie to step up in front of him. “You ain’t
listening. I told you to—”
Disgust
curved Mitch’s mouth into a mean smile meant to intimidate. “You’re
right. I’m not listening to you.” Insulting disregard took his
gaze over the smaller man before he dismissed him. “I’m talking
only to her.”
By
size difference alone, it was beyond ludicrous for Bernie to issue a
challenge.
And
yet, he did. “Are you fuckin’ stupid?”
Charlotte’s
voice, now edged with anger, interrupted anything Mitch might have
replied or done. “You’ve been warned, Bernie. If you don’t
knock it off right now, you are not going to like the
consequences.”
Still,
the fool didn’t listen. “I said,” Bernie blasted, his breath
putrid, “for you to get lost.” A scrawny fist, aiming for
Mitch’s face, swatted through the air.
Bad
move, asshole.
Instincts
could be a son of a bitch. Mitch leaned away from the weak hit…and
at the same time automatically jabbed with his right.
His
fist landed right on Bernie’s chin.
Eyes
rolling back, the smaller man started to drop.
Infuriated
that he’d lost his grip in front of Charlotte, Mitch caught the
front of Bernie’s shirt and held him on his tiptoes. “You,” he
whispered between barely moving lips, “need to learn when to quit.”
Familiar anger surfaced despite his efforts to tamp it down…
And
a small, cool hand touched him.
Struck
clean down to his toes, Mitch peered first at those pale, tapered
fingers with short, neat nails resting lightly against the roped
muscles of his sun-darkened forearm.
Fucking
sexy, that’s what it was, highlighting all their differences,
especially those of strength and capability.
Her
face drew him next, the delicate lines, smooth skin…that mouth and
those eyes.
That
wild hair.
“I
think,” she said softly, a smile teasing her mouth, “if you let
Bernie go now, he’ll make a hasty retreat.” Slanting those
mesmerizing eyes toward old Bernie, she added with silky menace, “At
least, he better.”
Keen
awareness nudged out anger.
Everything
about her appealed to him.
She
stood to his left, and the heady scent of her skin and hair—like
baby powder and flowers—teased his nose.
He
drew a deeper, fuller breath, filling his lungs with her and knew he
could happily drown on that scent.
Slowly,
wanting to keep her close, Mitch unclenched his fingers and allowed
Bernie to stumble back to where his buddy helped to prop him up.
Unconcerned
with that, Charlotte’s fingers shifted in the lightest of
explorations before she snatched her hand away.
Interesting—especially
that splash of color on her cheeks.
She
looked up at him, gave a wan smile, and whispered, “Thank you.”
“For
popping him?”
Curls
bounced as she gave a quick shake of her head. “For not doing him
more damage.” She wrinkled her nose, leaning closer to confide,
“You could have, I know.”
Huh.
No recriminations?
She
actually thanked him?
Not
what he was used to, but he’d take it.
Excerpted
from All
Fired Up by
Lori Foster. Copyright ©
2019 by Lori Foster Published by HQN Books.
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