Having been put through the ringer by her ex who was a perpetual cheater and master manipulator, Bridgett doesn’t have much faith in men. Then Noah comes into her life, a guy unlike any man she’s ever known. Not only is he dependable, kind, and honest, he’s too hot for his own good.

Not that any of that matters since Bridgett is still technically married, and Noah has made it clear without words that he’s not interested.

So what’s the worst that could happen when there’s a fire and he offers her a place to crash until she can get back on her feet?

Protecting those in need comes with his job as a police officer, so Noah’s not surprised by his need to protect Bridgett. The feelings of possessiveness when it comes to her are not something he knows how to deal with.

Noah knows he should keep her at arm’s length, but instead of putting distance between them he keeps finding ways to bring them closer together and he’s not sure if she will ever be close enough.

Every 1001 Dark Nights novella is a standalone story. For new readers, it’s an introduction to an author’s world. And for fans, it’s a bonus book in the author’s series. We hope you’ll enjoy each one as much as we do.

Book Type:

Contemporary Romance

Excerpt: Keeping You

I watch Bridgett as she sleeps with her head on the armrest of the couch, her hair down around her shoulder, and her cheeks pink from the champagne she drank. Even passed-out drunk, she’s adorable. Actually, she’s adorable all the time, which has become a problem. When I didn’t know her as anything more than Aiden’s little sister, it was easy to brush off my attraction to her. Now, not so much. Whenever I’m around her, the urge to kiss her or touch her is almost unbearable.

I want her. I want to know what she tastes like. Want to know if her skin is as soft as it looks. And I want to know what sounds she’ll make when I go down on her or fuck her. And all of that would be easy enough to get over, but I don’t just want to fuck her. I’ve grown protective of her and have come to crave her presence. She’s a mystery I want to solve, but with her being so skittish around me, it’s almost impossible to figure her out.

That said, I’ve figured out that her family has not looked out for her, including my best friend, which is probably why she ended up married to a man like her ex. I’ve learned that she’s got a soft heart, she’s funny even when she’s not trying to be, and she’s afraid of not earning her place, no matter where that is. I didn’t expect to like her, not when we come from such vastly different backgrounds, but I do. And I honestly don’t know what to do with that.

I told her this evening that life is too short to live on someone else’s timeline, but I’m not sure I could take my advice when it comes to her. She’s still not divorced from the dick she married, and even if I know she’s attracted to me, I’m not sure taking advantage of that would be the right move. Going too fast could blow up in my face, but waiting until I think she might be ready could cause its own set of problems.

My jaw shifts, and my hands ball into fists. I’ve always been one to look at a situation and figure out the right move, but I’m at a loss for what to do when it comes to her.

Knowing I won’t be able to figure that shit out tonight, I push up off the couch, then start to pick her up so I can put her to bed. Her eyes open as her hands move to my chest.

“Noah.”

“Just putting you to bed, babe,” I tell her softly, lifting her off the couch. She makes a sound of protest in the back of her throat before shaking her head.

“I can walk.”

I ignore her and carry her to her room, hitting the light switch with my elbow, which turns on the desk lamp, casting a soft glow around the office. Since she’s been staying here, I haven’t come into her space, but seeing it now causes something to shift inside my chest. Her suitcases are both open on the floor with her clothes neatly packed inside like she’s just waiting to close them up and leave, and the couch looks like she’s never pulled out the bed.

“Have you been sleeping on the couch?” I ask, placing her on the cool leather loveseat. She tips her head back to look at me.

“Yes.”

“Babe, what the fuck?”

“It’s comfortable.” She pulls the blanket she brought with her off the back and lays her head on her pillow, closing her eyes. “You shouldn’t have let me drink so much champagne.”

“I tried to cut you off, but you told me you couldn’t let it go to waste.”

“Oh, yeah,” she murmurs, and I bite back a grin.

“You’ll feel better in the morning.”

“That’s doubtful. Champagne hangovers are the worst.” She tucks the blanket up around her neck, and I shake my head, then go to the closet to grab a thicker one before spreading it over her. “Thank you.”

“We’re gonna have a talk tomorrow.”

“About what?” She peeks one eye open to look at me.

“About you not unpacking.” I lean over and tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, watching up close as her nose scrunches. “Get some sleep.” I stand back, then go to the door and cut the light before leaving the room.