Any Day Now - Lani Lynn Vale

Blurb

Amelia loves her good friend, Avery. So much so that she agrees to do the stupidest thing ever.

A stranger photoshoot.

You know the type. The photographer takes photos of two individuals. Two individuals that, until that day, have never met in their life.

The moment she shows up at the photoshoot, she knows that she made a terrible decision.

Why? Because the total stranger about to be in an intimate photoshoot with her is the hottest thing that’s ever walked the streets of Kilgore, Texas. If not the entire US of A.

***

Adam wasn’t sure why the hell he agreed to something so stupid.

Call it temporary lapse of sanity.

When the photographer who shot his photo for the Kilgore Police Department’s benefit calendar asked him for a favor, he couldn’t say no. Not without looking like a jerk seeing as it was benefitting the Fallen Officer Foundation that he played a rather large part in.

Whatever it was that made him agree, he quickly realizes that it’s not worth it. Not when he walks into the studio and sees the massive bed with blood-red sheets dominating the middle of the room.

So uncomfortable is he at the sight, he’s about to head straight out the door and not look back, when she walks in.

Amelia steals his breath away with just one glance, and all of a sudden, getting this stranger into his arms with his mouth on hers sounds like the best idea ever.

Chapter 1

I don’t need a pool to get you wet.

-Lawn sprinkler

Amelia

“Please, please, please, please, please.”

I looked at my friend, Avery, and wanted to say no.

A thousand times no.

But, she didn’t ask me for stuff often.

In fact, I was honestly surprised that she was doing it now.

“What’s it for again?” I asked, not wanting to hear the words yet knowing that I had to ask.

“A college class that I’m taking. Photography. We’re supposed to come up with something unique, a photoshoot. It has to be fun, expressive, and emotional. We can do whatever we want. But, it’s a huge part of my grade. And, it’s of a personal nature. I just figured, with where you worked, you might be more okay with it than everyone else… plus, I don’t think that anybody else will do it. Or… more accurately, be allowed to do it.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

I ignored the part about ‘where I worked.’

Where I worked wasn’t bad.

Really, it wasn’t.

I mean, working at a strip club as a bartender wasn’t bad.

I wore what I wanted, made good money doing it, and got the benefit of pissing my brothers and father off. Even more so than my schooling—a social worker.

They did not, I repeat, did not like the fact that I would be working with druggies—their words not mine.

They also did not like the fact that I hadn’t caved on any of their demands—i.e., finding a job that kept me safe, protected, and healthy at all times.

So, to defy them even more, I’d moved to Kilgore—where having one brother around was better than having a brother and a father—both of which were part of an MC that owned that town.

Sebastian and my father were part of one of the biggest motorcycle clubs in the country. They owned Benton, Louisiana—my hometown—and made it virtually impossible for me to live under their microscope.

In Kilgore, Texas I only had my eldest brother, Sam Mackenzie, to deal with. Also, I had James, my brother-in-law, but still better than a bossy, overprotective brother or father.

One was better than three.

At least, that was what I kept telling myself.

Luckily, Kilgore was close to my college, and it meant that I could go to school, work toward my master’s degree, and have the added benefit of having family around if I ever needed help.

Which, I wouldn’t.

But I liked to allow my alpha family members to think that I would have them in case I needed them.

“What do you mean by being allowed to do this?” I asked.

“Well.” Avery bit her lip, looking torn. “See…”

She looked like she didn’t want to tell me.

That’s when I knew it was bad.

“Spit it out,” I ordered as I squatted down and hefted the giant keg of beer into place.

Or, at least, I tried to. It wasn’t budging.

Mainly because I was five-foot-three, a hundred and fifteen pounds soaking wet, and barely had time to get a run in, let alone any squats.

Meaning, the ninety-pound keg wasn’t moving by itself. At least not today.

“Come around here and help me,” I ordered.

Avery did, walking around the bar of the strip