G'day, ,

It's the month of spooks and ghouls! Though, to be fair, it's all hit-and-miss in Australia. Some people celebrate and decorate their homes while others pretend it's just a normal day. I have to admit that I'm in the latter group. Please don't come after me.

It's spring here and I shared a couple of photos in my Facebook reader group. Two years ago, the hubby and I decided to pull out the grass in our backyard and plant a garden instead. We're wrapped with how it's looking. I always look forward to the wisteria flowers blooming. They not only look gorgeous, they smell fantastic too.

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Unexpected Kisses has been to the copy/line editor and the proofreader which means it's almost ready for public consumption. I'm currently listening to it to ensure I catch anything that's been missed by the already copious rounds of editing. I've also been sharing snippets on social media because there are ONLY 21 DAYS until Sarah and AJ's story is released into the world. I thought you might like to read the first two chapters.

Enjoy!

Chapter 1—Sarah

Melanie’s name lights up my screen with a text.

Mel: I’m waiting …

Trust her to know my cycle. It only makes sense since we’ve known each other since kindergarten; we know most things about each other, and she knows how much I want this to work. The problem is that I’m not ready to tell anyone I failed again. Not even my best friend. After my second attempt to get pregnant, I’m still no closer to becoming a mom. The disappointment weighs heavily on my heart, and I’m terrified my dream may never come true. I blow out a heavy breath and pick up my phone.

Me: I got my period

I drop my phone back to the cushion beside me and take a sip of my wine. I’d been staying clear of the sweet goodness, but I needed something to help me commiserate my failure. Staring off into space, the doorway to the second bedroom mocks me. I don’t know when it became essential to me that I needed to have a baby; I just know it’s all I can think about. I’ve always wanted to be a mom. As a kid, I would always play mommies and daddies with my dolls and watching Em with her kids makes me realize I have this gaping hole inside of me. Sighing heavily, I blow out a long breath and sink into the plush cushion. My phone lights up again, and I read her message without picking it up.

Mel: I’m sorry. I know how much you want this

Mel: I’m taking you out dancing tomorrow night. No arguments

I don’t want to go out dancing. At thirty-four, I feel so old when we go to clubs. I grab my phone, ready to make up some excuse when it rings. I press the green button and hold it to my ear. “Mel—”

“Don’t say it, Sare. No excuses. We’re going out dancing. There’s a new club with an over-thirties crowd.” Her tone is no nonsense.

“I’m really not feeling it. I just want to wallow. Let me wallow. Just this once,” I whine like a child.

She chuckles. “What sort of friend would I be if I let you wallow? Besides, you’ll be a mom before you know it, and then you won’t be able to go out and have fun with your bestie.”

I know she won’t relent, so I may as well save myself a whole lot of arguing and agree. “Okay. But I don’t want to be out late. I’ve got my shift at the hospital on Saturday morning.”

“I know, I know. I have my shift too. I promise to get you home before you turn into a pauper!” My long-time friend giggles. “See you tomorrow night. Mwah!”

I can’t help but chuckle too. She’s infectious. “Tomorrow night, Mels Bells.”

We end the call, and I take a long sip of my wine. I guess I should have dinner and finish crocheting the beanies I need to take with me on Saturday since I won’t be able to finish them tomorrow night. Climbing to my feet, I head to my poky kitchen, pull out the container labeled Thursday, and pop it in the microwave. As I wait for the timer to go off, I check whether the cupcakes I baked as soon as I got home are cool enough to pack into Tupperware. They are, so I quickly transfer them, then top off my wineglass and grab a fork out of the drawer. With my butt leaning against the counter, I allow my gaze to wander around my small apartment. Even though the space is compact and it’s not in the swanky part of town, I feel accomplished that I saved up enough money to buy it. I’ve always been great at saving money and working toward a goal. Even when I was a kid, I would save my birthday and pocket money until I had enough to buy something special. Which reminds me, I need to start saving again for more treatments. Not getting pregnant is going to set my plan back, but what else can I do?

The microwave dings so I grab my chicken masala and head back to the couch. I smile to myself, grateful that I didn’t have to cook dinner tonight with the way I’m feeling. The hour of meal prep I do every Sunday morning saves me a heap of time and money because I’m not tempted to grab takeout when I’m tired or work late or just feel blah. A little planning goes a long way, and it helps me to keep on track for my financial goals, too.

I had saved enough money for two rounds with the clinic in the hopes I would get pregnant, but no dice. Now I need to start all over again—another eight grand for two more attempts. If I don’t get pregnant by the end of those rounds, I’m not sure what my next step will be.

* * *

My tan patent heels clack across the stone floor as I make my way toward the elevator that’ll take me up to the forty-fifth floor. I balance the two dozen cupcakes I baked last night as I walk toward Joe.

“Morning, Sarah,” Joe calls across from his post near the elevator, ready to press the button for me.

I smile at him. Every day, he’s here to greet me with his warm smile and a friendly hello. “Hi, Joe. How are things?”

“Never better.” That’s always his answer as he presses the button to my floor on my behalf.

I hold the container toward him and raise an eyebrow. “Would you like one before I take them upstairs?”

“I’ll never say no to your baking.” He reaches across, lifts the lid, and makes his selection. “Mmm, smell that lemon.”

“There’s a treat hidden inside.” I wink at him. The lemon curd filling is always a hit.

“Nice. I’ll look forward to it when I take my morning break. Thank you. Mr. Wainwright hasn’t arrived yet.”

That gives me pause. Eric is always in the office before me. Well, he used to always be in the office before me; now, not so much. “Thanks, Joe. Have a great day.”

“You too,” he says as I step inside the elevator with a stone-tiled floor and stainless-steel walls, which match the lobby. I don’t have to share the space with anyone this early in the morning.

The building is incredibly stylish and classy, and I love that I work in one of the most iconic buildings in the city, Stone Tower. It doesn’t hurt that, on occasion, I manage to lay eyes on the one and only owner of the building, Oliver Stone. That man is all sorts of hot! His wife is gorgeous too. I’ve met them both a couple of times over the years because Emma works with her and we crossed paths when Emma was in the hospital and again at her wedding. Even though I know Kate is really down to earth, I can’t believe the wife of a billionaire businessman still works in an elementary school. I shake my head.

Using the polished stainless-steel walls as a mirror, I adjust the collar of the navy sleeveless dress I’m wearing today. Nobody would even guess the dress I’m wearing only cost thirty-nine ninety-five, including postage—such a steal. I love dressing up and finding outfits that accentuate my assets—which are on the curvier side—not that there’s anyone to impress in the office, but I like to look nice.

The reception desk is empty when I step off the elevator, which is normal because Lucy doesn’t usually get here until she’s dropped her teenage kids off at school. I start her computer, then head toward my desk, located outside of Eric’s office. As I pass by the research and development cubicles, I raise the Tupperware container of cupcakes so the guys know to grab one each before they all disappear. Evan and Jordan always start early on Fridays so they can leave early and hit the bars. Eric’s always been generous with his staff, allowing us to start and finish whenever it suits us as long as we work our designated number of hours in the week. I was lucky to land this job over ten years ago.

I tuck my purse in the cupboard behind my desk and turn on my computer. Glancing at Eric’s darkened office, I mentally run through his calendar, searching for an early appointment I’ve forgotten, but come up blank. His behavior has been worrying and uncharacteristic as of late. He’s been stressed about his grandson, Adam, taking over his position within the company. Eric’s ready to retire, and it shows in the considerable decline of his enthusiasm over the last twelve months.

Adam’s been reluctant, making Eric understandably upset. I consider the situation from Adam’s point of view as I turn on the lights and computer in Eric’s office. Glancing at the old photograph of his daughter and her family he keeps on his desk, I study the little boy, Adam, closely. I guess it takes time to pack up your life and move across the country from New Jersey, but it’s been over eighteen months and the delay is impacting Eric’s health. Apparently, Adam moved there straight from college for a job and hasn’t been home since, but surely he knew he’d have to take over from his grandfather one day. I’m not even sure he’s capable of taking over such a large company; he’s never even set foot in this building. Would he even know how to run FutureTech?

I drop the cupcakes off in the kitchen, turn on the coffee machine, then move through the rest of our floor, switching on the lights and printers. Once I’ve made myself a coffee, I pop my head in to say hello to Evan and Jordan. “Morning. Are you guys ready for your presentation with Eric this morning at ten?”

“Morning, Sarah. Yeah, we’re ready, but where is he?” Jordan asks.

“I don’t know. I’ll give him thirty minutes, then I’ll try calling him. Don’t forget to grab a cupcake. I made the lemon ones this week.”

They both nod. “Thanks, Sarah. Your cupcakes make Fridays bearable.”

“You’re welcome.” I head back to my desk. Taking my seat, I work through the emails in my inbox, forwarding them where needed, and double-check Eric’s calendar for today. He leaves at lunchtime to play golf on Fridays; it’s something he’s always done. More often than not, by three p.m. on Friday afternoons, our office is almost completely empty. I love it because it affords me the quiet I need to prepare for the following work week.

Eric wanders toward me, looking a million miles away. “Good morning, Mr. Wainwright.” I smile at him.

He glances up as though he’s only now realized where he is. “Good morning, Sarah. Please cancel the presentation this morning. Move it to the first available time next week. I need to make an important call.”

“Sure. Is everything okay?”

He waves over his shoulder as he disappears through the door to his office. “Of course.”

Puzzled at Eric’s uncharacteristic behavior, I check his calendar for next week and move the presentation, then head down the hallway to tell the guys. I’m sure they’ll be disappointed. They seemed excited about showing Eric the new chip they’ve been working on.

I make Eric’s pot of tea, pop a cupcake on a plate, and head back to his office, catching him before he makes his call. “I’ve changed the presentation to your earliest available time next Tuesday. Here’s your tea, and I made lemon curd cupcakes this week.”

His cloudy eyes meet mine, and he offers me a genuine smile. “What would I do without you, Sarah? Thank you.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’d get by, but I’m glad I can help.” I tip my lips up. “Do you need anything else?”

“No, thank you. Please ensure I’m not disturbed.”

“Of course.” I spin on my heel, closing Eric’s door behind me.

Chapter 2—AJ

I end the call and lean back in my leather chair, beyond pleased with the outcome. After my disastrous phone call this morning, I needed this. Dylan already knows the outcome is positive from listening to my side of the conversation, but he sits opposite me with his eyebrows raised and an expectant look.

“We got it!”

He jumps out of his chair, pumping his fist in the air. “Fuck yeah!” He wraps his hand around my bicep, pulling me to my feet, and we embrace in celebration. “I knew we had it in the bag, but I don’t like to celebrate until the deal is sealed.”

I chuckle at his enthusiasm. “This is an incredible opportunity for us. We’d better not fuck it up.”

“We won’t. We’ve got this. Everything we’ve done up until now has led us to this point. We’re ready.” He’s always supremely confident in our abilities. I know he’s right, but I hope we haven’t taken on more than we can handle. It is only the two of us after all, and this is a big deal—it’s the biggest contract we’ve ever had. The company, booknow.com, is listed in the top twenty tech companies in the US. If we can impress them, who knows where it might lead?

“Mr. Noble’s going to send over the final contract for our lawyer to look at, then we can sign on the dotted line. This is huge for us.” Excitement bubbles inside me. This is the break we’ve been working toward. Taking smaller jobs and edging our way closer to the bigger companies that will put us on the radar has finally paid off. “He said he wants to keep the project between the three of us. He’s even using his personal lawyer, so no one in the company knows what’s going to happen. He doesn’t even want to know when we’re going to take the company down.”

Dylan raises his eyebrows. “Makes sense to do a stealth attack.” I nod in agreement as he claps his hands together. “This calls for a celebration.”

“Yep, it sure does. Let’s try out Club Rumors. It’s a new club for the over-thirties crowd.” I’m sick of the younger chicks. Most of them have nothing going on upstairs, relying solely on their looks. Dylan doesn’t mind the lack of conversation because he’s only looking to get laid, but I need more than a wet pussy.

He screws up his nose. “We’re only thirty, man. I’m not sure I want to age up just yet.”

I slap him on the back. “Haven’t you heard how horny women are in their thirties?”

His eyes light up. “Oh yeah?” I knew that would pique his interest. “Okay. I’m down for that. Let’s grab dinner first.”

“Sure. We’ll meet at Cristo’s at seven-thirty. I’ll book us a table.”

“Cool. See you there.”

The door closes behind him and I make a booking at our favorite Greek restaurant. As I end the call, my phone lights up with my sister’s name.

“Unca AJ!” Colton, my three-year-old nephew, squeals down the line.

“Colton, my man.” This isn’t the first time he’s picked up my sister’s phone and called me. “How are you doing, buddy?”

“I good. I love you, Unca—” His words stop abruptly, and I’m guessing my sister’s discovered him using her phone again.

“AJ? Is that you?”

I chuckle. “Yeah, it’s me. I’m guessing you need to find a new hiding place for your phone?”

“Yeah. How’d you guess?” Hayley laughs. “I’m running out of places. I had it on top of the damn fridge! He pulled a chair over to the counter, climbed up, and then used a wooden spoon to drag the damn phone within his reach,” she huffs out.

“Shit! Lucky he didn’t fall.”

“I know. We can’t take our eyes off him for a second. Lisa’s not home from work yet, and I was in the bathroom.” She sounds frustrated, and I can imagine her running her fingers through her dark-brown curls. I hear her draw in a deep breath. “Anyway, I was going to call you. How did your call go? Did you get the contract?”

“Yep!”

“Woohoo!” she sings across the line. “I knew you would. I’m so damn proud of you and Dylan! You’ve done incredible to build your reputation as quickly as you have.”

Her praise means the world to me since she and Lisa run their own successful business creating and designing educational games. Lisa’s an ex-teacher and Hayley is a game designer. That’s how they met. Lisa had an idea for an educational game to help teach kids grammar, so she contacted Hayley. They started working together on the project and one thing led to another and they’ve been together ever since. From that initial project, the two have created a whole slew of educational resources which are being used worldwide. What they’ve built over a short time period is truly inspiring. It also allows them the flexibility to work from home or in the office, which means they can take turns being home with their son.

I hear Colton squeal in the background. “Hey, I’ve gotta go. Lisa’s home. Congratulations again. We’ll have you over for dinner to celebrate.”

“Sure. Bye, Sis.” The call disconnects and I check the clock on the wall. I’ve got time for a quick workout before I need to get ready for dinner.

* * *

“ID please.” The woman at the door holds out her hand, a bored expression on her face.

I dig into my pocket. “We’re over twenty-one.”

She pops her bubblegum as her eyes scan us from head to toe. “I can see that. I need to check that you’re at least thirty.”

Fuck! I didn’t think they’d be checking our ages. Dylan glances at me with a smirk. “Sure.” I hand over my driver’s license and so does Dylan. It was only two weeks ago that he turned thirty.

With a level of boredom I haven’t seen since high school, the woman studies our licenses, then hands them back to us. “That’ll be twenty-five each.” I hand over my credit card and she scans it, then stamps our wrists. “Have a good night, boys.” She winks at us, then directs her attention to the next people in line.

As soon as the doors open, a thumping bass beat hits me square in the chest. Oh yeah! I can’t stop my body from moving as we make our way through the crowded space to the bar. We can’t help but press up against women of all shapes and sizes who check us out in return as we pass by. I’m not being big-headed when I say that Dylan and I are good-looking guys. We generally don’t have trouble gaining the attention of the ladies, particularly Dylan with his naturally flirtatious personality. He’s the light to my darker features, with his blond hair, blue-eyed surfer look. He comes across as laid back, but he takes life seriously where it counts.

Skating my eyes around the darkened space, lit by random purple strobe lights, I’m already mentally patting myself on the back for my decision to come here tonight. The place is filled wall to wall with women who ooze confidence that younger girls just don’t have. It would be great to finish the day sharing a drink and interesting conversation with a beautiful woman. I mean, I wouldn’t say no to getting naked with said woman, but I don’t want to push my luck. My day’s already been successful beyond my imagination.

Dylan leans in close to my ear. “You want a beer?”

I glance up at the drink menu, spotting my favorite craft beer. “Sure. I’ll have a Crusoe.” He nods and moves closer to the bar, which is three people deep in places, to order our drinks so it’s going to take him a while. I tuck my hands into my pockets and step toward the dance floor to watch. It doesn’t take long before a particular woman catches my attention. She’s got a banging body, all curves, dips, and valleys—just the way I like my women. Her black lace dress hugs her body as she shakes her delectable ass to the music. She spins around, finally facing me, and the front is as spectacular as the back. Her smile is contagious as her blonde friend grinds her ass against hers. They’re too caught up having their own fun to be trying to impress anyone, and it’s sexy as fuck.

Dylan steps beside me, handing me my beer. I take a drink and then tip my head toward the women. “They look like they’re having a good time.” He glances to where I’m pointing, then smiles at me with raised eyebrows. Where the brunette is everything I look for in a woman, her blonde friend is Dylan’s perfect woman come to life.

“I think we’re in for a good night, my friend.” He taps his glass against my bottle and takes another drink.

I smile at my long-time friend, then take a drink. Both of us turn toward the dance floor to watch the women enjoying themselves. As many times as I tear my eyes away from the stunning brunette to peer around the room, they instinctually find their way back to her.

Six pillars topped with silver cages, rise out of the floor at random intervals around the room. Each has a woman inside wearing a barely there shimmering outfit. My eyes momentarily lock on the dancer closest to me as she moves her body to the music, but she can’t hold my attention for long as my eyes fight to find the sexy brunette again. I snap my head around to seek her out but she’s not where she was a moment earlier. Scanning the area, I come up empty. I shift my position to see if I can locate her, but she’s vanished into thin air. Fuck!

Dylan leans into me. “Who are you looking for?”

I point to the spot where my girl was. “The brunette who was dancing with the blonde.”

He nods, then lifts his chin in the direction of the large, raised booths facing the dance floor along the side. “They went that way.”

My body relaxes and Dylan leads the way, making a path through the crowd as purple lights strobe across the room in time with the music. Someone pinches my ass as I follow behind. I turn to lay eyes on the offender to be greeted with a wink and a wide smile surrounded by bristles. I raise my eyebrows and tip my head, but keep moving forward. He was decent looking if I swung that way, but I don’t.

I spot the women in a circular booth toward the back, the farthest from the speakers. How fortuitous … the other half of the booth is free. Walking directly toward them, I lean closer to the blonde, who’s sitting closest to the edge. “Mind if we take the other half of the booth?”

Her eyes skate down my body and across to Dylan, then she returns her attention to me. “Be our guest.” She waves her hand out toward the empty side.

“Thanks.” I slide into the other end of the booth first, then Dylan follows in behind me. His eyes catch on the blonde and stay there for a long moment. I try to catch the eye of the brunette, but it’s not happening; she’s too busy watching the action on the dance floor. I press my back against the cushioned chair and stretch my legs out, playing with the coaster on the table.

“How are you feeling?” I look beside me, knowing full well the space is empty. The voice was as clear as if the woman it belongs to was sitting right beside me. I lift my gaze to the women at the other end of the booth.

The brunette blows out a breath. “Disappointed, but I’ll survive.”

The blonde rubs her friend’s arm, her face full of compassion. “Have you got enough money to do another round?”

“Nope. I have to save again, which will put me behind schedule, but what else can I do? I want a baby.”

A baby. I’m certain my eyebrows are touching my hairline and my eyes are as wide as saucers.

“I know.” The blonde sighs. “Why don’t you try picking up a hot guy and taking him home? There are plenty here to choose from,” she suggests. “And it would be cheaper than going through the clinic.”

“You know I can’t do that, Mel.”

“Why not? He would never have to know.”

“Uhhh, because it’s unethical. Plus, there’s that little tidbit about my personality that you’re forgetting.”

The blonde pauses for a moment; her eyebrows scrunch down, then her eyes widen and her lips spread. “Oh, right. I forgot. You know, you can have sex for fun without being involved?” She nudges her shoulder playfully into her friend’s.

“I know you can do that, but I’ve tried it. I wish I could do what you do, but I’m not built that way.”

Thank fuck for that. The relief filling my body is swift, knowing she’s not the type of woman who hooks up for the hell of it. I’m being completely unfair because God knows when I was in college, I hooked up with my fair share of women only for sex.

“I know you’re not, Sare. So how long will it take you to save?”

“Another twelve months if I’m careful. This will have to be my last night out for a while.”

Shit, she must really want a baby.

“Doesn’t the clinic offer a payment plan or something?”

The brunette huffs out a breath. “I wish. Waiting another twelve months puts me on the cusp of needing to change to IVF, which is even more expensive.”

“I wish I could help you.” She rubs her hand along her friend’s back in comfort. “How about I get us another drink?”

The brunette, Sare, maybe short for Sarah, smiles and nods at her friend. The blonde stands and heads to the bar, leaving Sare on her own. I glance down at my bottle, noticing it’s empty.

“I’m gonna get us some refills. Be back in a minute,” Dylan says and I nod, digging into my pocket for my card, but he waves me off.

I glance at the brunette and decide this is my moment to chat with her, so I close the four-foot distance between us.

PREORDER for 99c

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I've also started writing Finn's story for the Falling for the Enemy anthology—I'm about one-third of the way through. Let's just say he doesn't get off on the best foot with his new business neighbor. 🤣

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