Ready to Run (I Do, I Don't 1)

Charlie leaned over, unabashedly reading Luke’s iPhone screen. “Ha. Knew it.”

“What?” Luke glared at his friend.

Charlie grinned wider, gesturing over his shoulder. “You’ve got a boner for the hot blonde.”

“Are you kidding me with this? She wants me to be the next bachelor.”

How were Ryan and Charlie not getting the absurdity of this?

Charlie shrugged. “So? Maybe it’d be good for you.”

Luke stared at his friend for a moment longer before putting the truck in drive. “The only thing that would be good for me is to push you out of this truck.”

Charlie was waving goodbye to Jordan and Simon. “See you tonight!”

Luke ground his teeth harder. He was already dreading the BBQ, but not going would only make matters worse. Clearly he needed to have a very blunt conversation with Jordan Carpenter.

Chapter 4

Jordan was more than used to surprises in her line of work. Heck, television was nothing but one surprise after another.

Surprise hits, surprise cancellations. Surprise pregnancies, surprise hissy fits, surprise hookups. Hell, surprise was pretty much the currency of reality TV.

But somehow Jordan hadn’t been prepared for Luke Elliott being a surprise.

She’d been so damn sure she’d had him pegged from 2,500 miles away.

She’d thought he’d be good-looking but not as good-looking as he thought he was. Figured he’d be cocky as heck, but label it charm.

He was supposed to be irresponsible and a little reckless—with his life, his choices…with other people’s emotions.

But based on her first impressions of the man?

She’d never been so wrong.

Jordan took a sip of the white wine her hosts had poured her and tried not to be obvious as she studied Luke across the deck.

Not that she really needed to be sly. The impromptu BBQ had been under way for nearly an hour, and Luke hadn’t made eye contact with her once.

Every now and then, Jordan could swear she felt his gaze on her, but the second she looked his way, he was back in conversation with someone else. Anyone else but her.

Well, not anyone. Luke was avoiding Simon too, which was impressive, considering her friend had taken the dinner party by storm. Jordan considered herself to be a friendly, likable sort. It’s why she was so good at her job. But next to Simon, she was a reserved wallflower.

She leaned against the railing, only half-listening as Simon regaled the group on the one and only time he’d ventured into Times Square on New Year’s Eve to watch the ball drop, standing in the freezing rain for seven hours, only to lose his spot when he had to leave to go to the bathroom.

Jordan had heard it a dozen times, but the dinner-party crew was new to it and ate up every New York moment.

She felt something nudge her wineglass and glanced down to see it being topped off.

Jordan met the friendly dark gaze of Bree Henderson, Ryan’s wife. “Looked like you could use a bit more,” Bree said, adding a little more to her own glass before shoving the bottle into a bucket of ice beside her feet.

“You’re a skilled hostess,” Jordan said with a smile.

Bree clinked her glass against Jordan’s. “I am, aren’t I?”

“Especially since you had, what, a couple hours’ warning? I still feel so awkward we just showed up like this. Ryan assured me it was no problem, but—”

“Because it is no problem,” Bree insisted. “It’s hardly the first time we’ve done a last-minute gathering, and the kids are at the grandparents’ tonight. Plus, in case you haven’t guessed, the fare’s not going to be fancy, and that’s if Ryan ever finishes whatever the heck he’s doing to the steaks.”