NEW RELEASE:
Taking Chances - rejoin Rory and Chance as they rush out to Arizona to check up on Cannon in this Pulp Friction Bonus Book, tying 2013 to 2014.
Available at All Romance Ebooks
They've been through too much in the past year, and when it comes to the men they consider family, Chance and Rory aren't taking chances.
EXCERPT
Taking Chances
Chapter One
"If you're so worried about him and why
he hasn't come home, then call him and ask." Rory didn't even look up from
his tablet, just continued sketching with the little stylus as though what we
discussed wasn't important.
I knew better. Sure, Cannon was my baggage,
but for some strange reason, he'd become Rory's friend. Maybe trauma bonded
them together, or maybe it was something else. Maybe they liked gossiping about
me or running me down behind my back. Fair enough. They both had reason to
complain when it came to Chance DuMont. "You wouldn't mind if I called
him?"
Rory had been jealous as hell of Cannon when
he'd first re-entered my life, and maybe it was vanity that made me miss that
jealousy now that Cannon was all the way across the country in Flagstaff.
"Nope."
The nonchalance pricked my temper, which was a
precarious thing at best. I let my boots hit the floor, to give him a chance to
rethink his attitude. He remained still, perched in the window seat of our
office, knees bent to support the computer, head a graceful arc as he kept
focused on his work. His blond hair was lighter than ever, bleached near white
by the sun, and he'd continued to let it grow after deciding not to return to
the force even after he'd been cleared for active duty again. No doubt he'd
been influenced by Sin, that devilishly sexy new bartender at Chances Are.
As always, just the sight of him, so young, so
strong made me think of other things. I couldn't maintain anger, not when every
time I looked at Rory I remembered how fragile life was, and how easily things
we cherished could be lost.
"Rory." If he didn't heed the
warning in my voice, then chances were we were in for a good time. Often he
played this game, pretending not to heed my commands, luring me into a sensual
game of delayed gratification. Some people might call him manipulative, or me a
sick bastard, but in reality, we were perfect together.
My pulse picked up, just a hint as my unease
found focus in a familiar emotion.
Finally he turned, meeting my stare with a
steady green gaze. I'd thought he was teasing, hinting at a desire to play, but
that gaze made it all too clear. My lover wasn’t thinking about the pleasures
of the flesh.
Sighing, I let the lazily stirring sensuality
fade. He was right. Our friend took precedence. "I'm calling. But you
should admit you were concerned too."
A faint smile crossed his full, lush lips.
Lips that had always felt more than right encircling my dick. And that was more
imagery than I'd needed at the moment. Adjusting my position in the chair to
something more comfortable, I frowned at him. "Fine. I'm worried too. But
he's more likely to tell you if something is wrong."
I wasn't sure about the logic in that, but I leaned
back in my chair and turned on the computer. "I'm not going to use that
Skype thing though."
"You mean you still haven't figured it out
after we went over it again last night?" Now he did put down the tablet
and swing his legs to the ground.
"No. No. Don't get up. I don't need to
see Cannon while I talk to him anyway." I stared blankly at the computer
for a moment before snatching my phone off the desk. "Why can't we all
just be happy with things doing what they're supposed to do?"
"What are you talking about?" Rory
rose gracefully and came over to stand by my desk and look over my shoulder. I
froze, wondering if he'd think it strange that I still had Cannon on speed dial.
I shook myself back into action. Don't be stupid, DuMont. Chances are, Cannon
Malloy is in Rory's contact list too. Cannon's image, in dark green scrubs,
popped up on the screen as I thumbed through my phone, and Rory reached over my
shoulder, tapping to connect the call.
"I mean phones that are for talking to
people, televisions for watching shows, computers for er…typing and whatnot…"
The phone rang three times as I tried to remember my argument when Rory's
temptation surrounded me. His scent, so clean and fresh, the heat of his body,
the…
"Are you still complaining about smart
phones and televisions and how they all make our life easier?" Rory
laughed as Cannon answered in his place.
"He is! Constantly! How are you,
Cannon?"
"Other than being awake and apparently
expected to be coherent at sunrise? I'm good. Is there some kind of emergency
or is this just a family call?"
Oh God. I'd completely forgotten the time
difference. Family. Yeah…I nodded, even though he couldn't see me. We were
family, weren't we? Some modern bastardization of the traditional family unit
that was. "Yeah, it is. Got you on speakerphone in the office. As for the
hour, just consider it payback for all the crack of dawn phone calls you made.
Like that one when your car was buried in the snow?"
"But it’s okay. The secretary hasn't
arrived yet so you can tell us all your adventures in Gay Flagstaff." Rory
leered comically at the phone, even though Cannon couldn’t see him.
Swatting my lover's thigh, I steered the conversation
back to where it needed to go, suddenly anxious to clear up what was keeping
Cannon away so I could take advantage of that secretary's absence after all.
"We haven't heard from you for a while, except that weird email about eggs
last week."
"Thanks for that, by the way." Rory
leaned down, resting his chin on my shoulder. I set the phone on the desk and
pulled him into my lap instead. "I found a few different recipes to try,
and I'll let you know how it goes. You know, real Hollandaise sauce is super
rich, about a dozen eggs in it."
Rolling my eyes, I rested my hand on Rory's
trim stomach. It wasn't like either of them needed to worry about weight and
fitness. "So what's the story, Cannon? How're classes going?"
"Classes are great. Finished actually. I
just have some interns to supervise this summer, and a weekly seminar to lead. At
the end of August, Melissa Redfern's maternity leave is up, and…"
Our friend's voice trailed off. "Then
what?" I prodded, sensing something behind his hesitation.
"I’m not sure. I don't really want to
think about it yet. I'm trying to just have fun and enjoy my time here."
That was so unlike Cannon that Rory and I
looked at each other, just to confirm we'd heard right. "Is that so?
Spontaneity is a new thing for you." Rory put it into words.
Good thing he spoke first too, because all I
could think of was to remind Cannon to use condoms for all this fun or he might
be sorry later. Which probably wasn't the most encouraging thing to say, and
damn it, Cannon did deserve fun after what he'd been through.
"Yeah, and so is relaxing. Rory…Chance…you've
no idea how good it feels not to actually be responsible for people's lives
every damned day."
I snorted. "I think we both get that,
Cannon. Law enforcement may not put a scalpel in your hand, but it does make
you responsible for others."
"I'm not saying other people don't have
responsibilities, face their own dangers." He blew out a frustrated breath.
"I know danger and death aren't job related. Just a while ago I walked in
on a professor being held at gunpoint for God's sake."
"What? What the fuck, Cannon?" I
dumped Rory off my lap and snatched up the phone. "Don't you have any
common sense—"
Giving me a dirty look, Rory cut off my
lecture, probably because his own past was too raw. "What's his name,
Cannon?" He changed the subject gently, apparently hearing something in
Cannon's comment I missed in my worry over the gun.
"Whose name?" Could you hear someone
blush? I swore, just the tone of his voice gave it away.
"The guy who's making you enjoy
yourself?" Rory refused to back down.
I paced around the office.
"There's…" He sighed then laughed a
little. "Okay. There is someone, but it's just fun. Just…"
"He was just too busy having fun,"
Rory teased, but I could see the concern in his gaze still. Rory was still joking,
but I caught the serious tone of Cannon's voice. And why not? Hadn't I heard it
hundreds of times when we were together as I tried to reassure him about the safety
of our meeting places?
"This guy…Cannon, he isn't the professor
you just mentioned, is he?”
Silence. "Yeah. But that's not a problem anymore.
The kid was just nuts. Finn took care of it. Anyway, I'm more concerned about
the weird shit going on here."
He was quiet for a minute. "In fact, I'm
glad you guys called. Maybe you can answer something for me. A while back, they
found some animals…mutilated. And some kid set fire to a shed."
"Did they report it to the
authorities?"
"Yeah, I assume so. I wasn't paying
attention. I'm not really bothered about that, though."
Exasperated, I closed my eyes and counted to
ten. "Cannon? What was your question?"
"You took abnormal psychology, right?
There's this guy up here…and I think he's got problems. Seems like either he's
a sociopath, or a severe case of PTSD…"
Rory closed and locked the office door. I
raised my brows; he just smiled, pulling a straight-backed chair to a position
a foot in front of the door. Interesting.
I returned to my desk chair, setting the phone
down on the table. My attention was definitely divided now as I watched Rory
strip off his apple green tank top, revealing a smooth, hairless chest. He'd
taken up waxing right about the time he'd decided that he needed to get his
nipples pierced. I was a big fan of both new styles.
Tight white denim followed the shirt, and I
caught my breath as Rory stood before me, tanned all over from sunbathing in
our backyard, wearing just a thin silky looking white thong that left little to
the imagination.
He wasn't rushing, and I was definitely
enjoying watching him neatly fold his clothes and put them on the coffee table
in front of the window seat, lean muscles flexing and relaxing as he moved
naturally about the office.
"Do you think I might have been suffering
from PTSD?"
Cannon's voice shook me from the fog of
sensuality. I jerked my gaze from Rory, who was stripping off the thong with
deliberate slowness, and cleared my throat. Cannon couldn't hear my heart drumming
in my chest, could he? "Most likely…" Damn it. Still husky, and
definitely a tone Cannon would recognize.
Rory smirked at me, and I raised my hand, five
fingers outstretched. Yeah. He'd earned the extra waiting time. The smirk
turned to a broad grin as he glanced conspicuously at the clock over my desk.
On cue, it chimed the hour.
Oh he'd timed it well.
"What the fuck?" Cannon's
exclamation was followed by a veritable thunder of loud noises, banging,
shouting, angry voices. Then the line went dead.
ABOUT PULP FRICTION 2014
Laura
Harner ~ Lee Brazil ~ Havan Fellows ~ T.A. Webb
The
Pulp Friction 2014 Collection. Four authors. Four Series. Twenty books. One
fiery finale. Spend a year with an eclectic group of strangers brought together
through circumstances, as they are tested by life, and emerge as more than
friends.
The
strongest bonds are forged by fire, cooled in air, smoothed by water, grounded
in earth.
Although
each series can stand alone, we believe reading the books in the order they are
released will increase your enjoyment.
Round One:
Firestorm
(Fighting Fire: 1)
Cold Snap (In From the
Cold: 1)
Blown
Away (Whispering Winds: 1)
Higher
Ground (Earthquake: 1)
Round Two:
Controlled
Burn
Cold Comfort
Blown
Kisses
Moving
Earth
Bonus
Book: Kismet and Cartwheels
Round Three:
Backburn
Cold Feet
Blow
Hard
Tremors
Bonus Book: Taking
Chances
Round Four
Flare-up
Out In The Cold
Blown
Chance
Aftershocks
Round Five:
Radiant
Burn
Cold Day in Hell
Final
Blow
Terra
Firma
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