Holding Out, the fourth book in my Returning Home series, is out today! For those of you who’ve been waiting patiently, you can finally read Griff and Becca’s story. For those of you who are new to the series, you’re in for a treat, because this is a fun place to start. It’s a friends-to-lovers, virginity-pact story, with a bit of brother’s best friend thrown in to cause trouble. Here’s a little teaser!
As Becca approached the archery range, she saw Griff with the big bow in his arms, slinging arrow after arrow into the center of the target so they stuck out like bristling porcupine quills.
She hung back, watching. He wore a plastic chest guard and a leather arm guard, which made him look a little bit like some medieval hero. And she wasn’t sure which was more mesmerizing: the clutch of muscle in his back and shoulders, the cords in his forearm, or his absolute laser focus.
She imagined what it would be like to have all that intensity and concentration turned toward her. That precision. That devotion to his task.
Her body warmed and softened in appreciation. Which was unusual for her. She didn’t get turned on looking. She didn’t get turned on that easily, period. She usually needed a lot of warming up.
Except, apparently, when it came to Griff Ambrose.
He reached into the quiver hanging across his body and came up empty.
“Hey,” she called.
He jumped. When he turned, the expression on his face was dark. Angry, she thought.
“Sorry—I didn’t mean to startle you.”
He crossed his arms. “I’ll do it.”
She’d heard the words but couldn’t make sense of them.
“If you still want me to. If you haven’t already enlisted CJ or some other boy. I’ll—take your V-card.”
She felt a huge smile threaten to break out all over her face, but her gut told her to play it cool. She shrugged. “CJ wants to take me out for dinner. He was actually quite the gentleman about asking me on a date.”
His expression darkened further. “No. No dates with CJ. That’s the deal. If I’m going to do this—”
She raised her eyebrows at his grim tone. God, he was making it sound like a household chore. “It’s not like you have to. I told you, I’ll find someone else—”
“God. No. I’ll do it. I said I’d do it. I don’t want you to pick some random guy. Then Nate would really kill me.”
“It’s sex with a virgin—a friend, even—not a death march,” she snapped.
She was aware of an ache in the center of her chest. For a minute there, she’d thought—
But he was just doing her a favor, of course.
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