THE MOMENT OF LETTING GO by J.A. Redmerski (August 11, 2015; Forever Trade Paperback)
You can follow the rules or you can follow your heart...
Sienna Murphy never does anything without a plan. And so far her plans have been working. Right after college, she got a prestigious job and gained the stability she'd always craved-until work takes her to the sun-drenched shores of Oahu and places her in the path of sexy surfer Luke Everett. For the first time, she lets her heart take control. Drawn to his carefree charm, she makes a spontaneous and very un-Sienna-like decision to drop everything and stay in Hawaii for two more weeks.
Luke lives fast and wild. When he meets Sienna, he's convinced that some no-strings-attached fun is just what she needs. As their nights quickly turn from playful to passionate, Luke can't deny the deep connection he feels. But there's a reason Luke doesn't do long-term. He can't promise Sienna forever, when the enormity of his past has shown him just how fragile the future can be . . .
Excerpt
“Damn, my
back is killing me,” I say, grimacing and reaching behind me for my muscles
again. “Sleeping on this sofa is brutal.”
Sienna’s face
falls under a little veil of guilt and pity.
“Oh, I’m
sorry,” she says. “Is it bad?”
No.
“Yeah, it’s
pretty bad.” I groan deeply for added affect. “I should’ve crashed in Seth’s
room—would have if I’d known he wasn’t coming home last night.” Truthfully, I’m
not sure of that; Seth might be in his room and I just slept so well through
the night that I didn’t hear him when he came in, like I usually do.
“Now I feel
bad,” she says and stands up from the coffee table, her long, lightly tanned
legs stretching for miles underneath the thin fabric of her cotton shorts— damn,
she is sexy; the things I want to do to her right now. “I’m not really
hungry anyway, so don’t worry about breakfast. I was just messing with you.”
“Nah, don’t
feel bad.” I wave it away like it’s nothing, while at the same time still
kneading my back with the other hand. “I’m going to make you something . . .
but you could help me out by walking on my back.”
“Huh?” Her
face scrunches into a cute, confused expression. “You want me to walk on your
back?”
“Well, yeah,”
I say with a nod, suddenly realizing myself how just the thought of her
touching me—with her feet, her hands, her lips; I don’t even care which—makes my
heart ache and my palms sweaty. “It’ll work out the kinks.”
She smiles ridiculously and shakes her head—I fight the urge to reach out and pull her down on my
lap; the image of her bare thighs around my waist, my hands hugging the
curvature of her ass…breathe Luke…just breathe.
“I’m not walking on your
back,” she sort of laughs the words out.
“Why not?” I tilt my head to
one side.
“Well I think I’m a little
too heavy to be walking on your back,” she says as if I should already know
this. “And because it’s weird?” It was more a statement than a question, but
something else she thinks I should already know, apparently.
God, she’s so fucking cute.
I roll my eyes. “Don’t tell
me you’re one of those girls who wears a size zero and thinks she’s fat.”
“No! I’m not one of those,”
she defends. “I just don’t want to hurt you!”
I laugh without restraint.
“OK, well you’re not going to
hurt me, I can promise you that.” I get up from the couch—with pretend
difficulty—and step around Sienna and the coffee table and then lay on my bare
chest on the floor. “Come on. It’ll really help me out a lot.” One side of my
face is pressed against the rug as I look up at her at an angle. She stands
over me with her flimsy arms crossed—I grow even harder beneath my shorts.
“No, Luke,” she laughs, “I’m
not going to do it.”
“Yeah you are,” I say
casually and wave my hand at her as if there’s nothing to it. “The only way you
can hurt me is if you jump up and down really, really hard. Now get on.”
“No.”
“Please?”
She shakes her head
repeatedly, her smile growing.
I break out the big guns.
“It’s the least you can do
for me letting you stay here for free and have my bed.” I grin subtly, which I
imagine looks strange with my cheek smashed against the floor.
“No!” She laughs out loud.
“I’ll sleep on the couch from now on if that’s the case.”
With me? I want to say—and
almost do—but restrain myself.
“No you won’t,” I tell her
sharply. “What kind of guy would I be if I made you sleep on the couch while I
was all sprawled out on the comfy bed? Now step on and start walkin’.”
“You’re crazy.”
Absolutely,
one hundred percent, no-going-back crazy for you—I admit it.
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About the author:
J. A. Redmerski, New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal bestselling author, lives in North Little Rock, Arkansas with her three children, two cats and a Maltese. She is a lover of television and books that push boundaries.
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