Mend the Seams (Buried Secrets 3)

Julie *Chocolate* Bailes – woman, I cannot wait to get my arms around your neck!!! You are like my long lost sister! Always there when I need anything! Love you doll!!!

Angel Justice, Melissa Blake and Ashley Hampton – thank you all so much for helping me with research! It was a bit scary getting out of my element and you ladies made the process so much easier!!!

Kellie Montgomery and Eye Candy Bookstore-thank you for all of your promotional support and friendship.

Amy Webb-Curry – love you Sis!!! Thank you so much for standing beside of me and having faith in my work!

Meet Silla

Silla Webb is a Kentucky native, raised in the heart of the coal fields. A coal truck driver’s daughter and a railroader’s wife, the coal fields own a special place in her heart.

Silla is a work at home, Super Momma to three rowdy boys, who keep her on her feet from daylight to sunset. As a pass time from her everyday life, Silla started a blog-Momma’s Secret Book Obsession, for reviewing romance novels. From there, she realized that not only did she have a natural love for reading and reviewing, but she found that lost love of writing that she once had as a young girl.

When she isn’t conquering the world as a wife, momma and Super Woman, Silla loves to lay on the front porch swing and read while sipping sweet tea, just passin’ the day away.

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Her Greatest Mistake

Copyright © 2015 by Maureen Mayer

Chapter 1

Reid

“Is this some kind of joke?” I dangled the yellow scrap of material from my finger and scrunched my nose up at the thought of having to squeeze my family jewels into it. Yeah, not happening. I’d known Bryce Hayes since we could first throw a football to one another, and seeing as how we were best friends, he knew I’d bend over backward for him in a heartbeat, but this…this was asking too much.

“Aww c’mon, Reid. It’s easy money, and we’re short-handed tonight. You know I’d do it for you if you asked.” He smirked as I continued to study what I’d be expected to wear tonight…or lack thereof. Seriously. Not happening, bro.

“Dude, you couldn’t pay me enough to wear this. For fucks sake, my ass will be hanging out, and I’ll be lucky if I can fit my right nut alone into it.”

“Well, yeah. I do believe that is the purpose of a G-string, Reid.” He snorted out a boisterous laugh, stepping around me to grab another handful of what looked like multi-colored butt floss from his top dresser drawer. He tossed them across his bed, tilting his head to the side as he glanced back at me questioningly. “You do manscape, don’t you?”

Do I…

I shot him a pointed look. Of course I manscape. Just because I wasn’t showing off the goods for the whole world to ogle at, didn’t mean I’d let myself go to shit down there…but that was beside the point. “I’m not wearing this shit.” Sling-shotting it back in his face, I finally cracked a smile. “Why are you still stripping anyway? Thought you’d gotten that out of your system back in college.”

While attending the University of Baltimore, Bryce had grown quite a reputation for what he referred to as his “extracurricular activities”. Stripping had paid for his rent, car, and half of his tuition, but we all knew he wasn’t doing it just for the steady cash rolling in. Girls passed through Bryce’s bedroom like a revolving door, and it was obvious money was the last thing on his mind. That was just an added bonus, because the real prize came at the end of the night…with her legs spread wide and screaming his name. Couldn’t say I blamed him. I was a guy with a healthy sexual appetite after all.

After graduating with our MBAs four years ago, we’d decided to go into business together, doing home renovations and remodeling for small businesses. It didn’t take long to build a name for ourselves, and at just twenty-eight years old, we were the most sought after contractors in Ellicott City, Maryland and the surrounding Baltimore area. Now, why Bryce still felt the need to strip was beyond me, because we made more than a decent living in our profession. But thinking back to the real reason he began stripping in the first place…I guess it really shouldn’t have surprised me.

“Well it seems word of my skills are still traveling through the grapevine, my friend. I started working for Jerry Ackerman last year after a few former clients dropped my name. Guess they couldn’t get enough of me.” He waggled his eyebrows. “It’s good money, even for just a few weekends a month, and I make a killing at bachelor

ette parties. Besides, it’s only a part-time gig, man. I can quit anytime I want to.”

“Yeah, but you’re too addicted to the attention your dick brings.”

“I’m not complaining.” His smile grew wider. “You remember Stacy Kensington?”