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New York Times and USA Today bestselling author TRACY WOLFF lives in Texas and teaches writing at her local community college. She is married and the mother of three young sons.
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Read on for an excerpt
from
Hot & Heavy
by Tracy Wolff
Available from Loveswept
Chapter 1
Sage
I’m bored. Like, really bored. I’ve spent most of the night at this ridiculous bachelorette party with people I barely know and I’m so ready for the night to be over. Normally, I have a strict only go to the parties of people I care about rule, but what was I supposed to do when Skye invited me to this thing? Say no?
Not super impressive considering we work together. Even less impressive considering, while my mom is off trying to reaffirm who she is by practicing spiritual meditation in India, I’m the boss. And the boss can’t blow off an employee invitation, no matter how much he or she wants to. Not when the business is as small and close-knit as ours is.
Which is why I’m sitting here in the middle of this ridiculously upscale bar watching women in penis hats swill drinks and talk dirty about whatever man happens to pass by the table…It’s my own personal version of hell and I’m pretty sure I’m doing a lousy job disguising that fact.
Then again, I’m not sure it matters considering I’m the only sober one at the table right now—which is obvious by both my lack of penis hat and my ability to keep my mouth shut no matter who walks by. Being the boss means I had to come to this little shindig. But there’s no boss or girl code in the world that says I have to wear a dick on my head or drink out of a straw shaped like one. And even if there was…well, that’s one code I’d have no trouble breaking.
“You need another drink,” Autumn—one of the other instructors at my mom’s yoga studio—tells me with a giggle. “Come on. Let’s go to the bar.”
I don’t want to go to the bar. And I sure as hell don’t want another drink. Skye has a limo booked tonight, which means that even though I drove myself here I don’t have to drive myself home, but I still have a two drink limit when I’m at a bar. Any bar. If I’ve learned anything through the years, it’s that everything’s easier when you’re stone-cold sober—which is why it’s been an hour since I’ve had anything to drink but water.
Still, I follow her. It’s not that hard of a choice, considering the rest of our party has just started singing dick songs. Because why not? It’s not enough to drink out of a dick and eat dick cake and whistle at every dick that walks by while wearing a giant dick on their heads. They need to sing an homage to the damn things, too.
Maybe it’s time to say to hell with the limo and get out of here instead…except Autumn’s grabbed onto my arm and a lifetime of yoga has rendered her a lot stronger than she looks. With a sigh, I acknowledge that I’m not going anywhere until she releases me.
We’re halfway to the bar when I see him. I’m so annoyed that I almost don’t pay attention, but—let’s be honest—I’d have to be dead not to notice this guy. Notice him, hell, just knowing he’s in the room is suddenly taking up all the oxygen.