ANYTHING BUT LOVE (Wingmen, #3) by Daisy Prescott
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Another wingman bites the dust in this enemies to lovers story…
For the past year, I’ve been working my butt off to start my own coffee company on Whidbey.
A weekend in Cabo with sun, tiny bikinis, and vacation hook-ups is exactly the kind of tension relief I need.
What I don’t need is a bruised jaw, having to bribe my way out of jail, a hellion set on ruining my life, and my mother seeing a picture of my assets on “The Twitter.”
Caribou Caldwell is my worst nightmare.
Unfortunately, she’s also the star of my sexiest dreams.
What happens when a small town guy becomes the focus of a million fantasies? As Erik Kelso navigates his sudden notoriety, will his feelings for Cari turn out to be anything but love?
Anything but Love is the third book in the Wingmen series, a spin off of Modern Love Stories. Like all Wingmen books, it can be read as a standalone romantic comedy.
When the sky finally releases its rain, it’s in a downpour and not a mist.
Cari takes off in a jog, yelling, “Race you!”
I give her a twenty-second lead and then decide to make it thirty seconds. She holds my cap with one hand, trying to keep the rain out of her face.
At forty-five seconds, I take off in a slow run. The sand slows me down a little, so I stick close to the water.
I catch up to her before we reach the tidal pool and reduce my pace to match hers. She scowls and tries to sprint through the deeper sand.
When I pass her, I jog backward for a few steps. She flips me her favorite finger.
Grinning, I race up the stairs. Once I hit the concrete, I sprint to our cars.
I can’t recommend running in jeans, but the look on Cari’s face when she sees me leaning against my truck makes it worth it.
Her cheeks are flushed and she’s breathing hard.
Combined with the way she moves when she dances, I now have a clear picture of what she’d be like in bed.
“I think you should tell a girl upfront you’re a runner if she challenges you to a race.” Her chest heaves with her breath, drawing my eyes to her breasts.
“You didn’t discuss race parameters before you took off. No one to blame but yourself.”
“What are you? Some sort of marathoner?”
“All State in track.”
“Yeah, that was when? A decade ago? I competed in gymnastics from five until fourteen, but that’s not helping me now.”
I add bendy and flexible to the things I imagine about Cari in bed.
“I compete in the occasional triathlon.”
“Your stamina is impressive. You’re not out of breath at all.”
I push off from the side of the truck and cage her against her car. “You like my stamina? Now imagine how good I am in bed.”
Her gasp is soft, but I catch it. I want to shock her. Something about her gets under my skin. I want her to feel the same.
With a low chuckle, I snatch my cap from her hair.
She grabs for it and I hold it over my head. When she jumps, her body slides against mine as she lands.
My stamina may be impressive, but my self-control sucks.
USA Today Bestselling author Daisy Prescott lives in a real life Stars Hollow in the Boston suburbs with her husband and an indeterminate number of imaginary housegoats. When not writing about people falling in love, she can be found traveling, gardening, baking, and reading a good book. Her novels include the Modern Love Stories series, the Wingmen series, and several short stories. She’s also working on expanding the world of Bewitched this fall.