First Time for Everything - By Aimee Carson

The summer she turned eleven, Aimee left the children’s section of the library and entered an aisle full of Harlequin novels. She promptly pulled out a book, sat on the floor and read the entire story. It has been a love affair that has lasted over thirty years.

Despite a fantastic job working part-time as a physician in the Alaskan Bush (think Northern Exposure and ER, minus the beautiful mountains and George Clooney), she also

enjoys being at home in the gorgeous Black Hil s of South Dakota, riding her dirt bike with her three wonderful kids and beyond-patient husband. But, whether at home or at work, every morning is spent creating the stories she loves so much. Her motto? Life is too short to do anything less than what you absolutely love. She counts herself lucky to have two jobs she adores, and incredibly blessed to be a Time For Everything #207046 page #5

part of Harlequin’s family of talented authors.

This and other titles by this author are available in ebook format. Check out Harlequin.com.

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Jacqueline “Jax” Lee, my heroine in this story,

constantly amazed me with her indomitable spirit

and quirky sense of humor. So it’s only fitting that

I dedicate this book to two of the strongest, funniest women I know: Wendy S. Marcus and Jennifer Probst.

Not only are you both fabulous authors and my

soul sisters, y’al somehow manage to keep me sane.

I love you both.

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FIRST TIME

FOR EVERYTHING

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ONE

Ray-Ban sunglasses blocking

the bright sun, Blake Bennington made his way down

the courthouse steps, debating whether to ask Sara

out before getting back to the office. Regardless of

his decision, his fourteen-hour workday would have

to be cut short for his appearance at the annual Moon

Over Miami fundraiser tonight. Which meant, after

ten hours in a tie, he was destined to trade his suit

for a tux. But the discomfort would be a small price

to pay given his sister Nikki’s involvement with the

event was what had kept her out of trouble since her

arrival back home.

Blake pushed the troublesome thoughts aside.

“Thanks for the info, Sara.”

Beside him, the striking brunette in a power suit

sent him a smile laced with a subtle come-hither vibe.

Blake had been studiously sidestepping her interest

since the first time they’d collaborated on the South

Florida Drug Enforcement Task Force, years ago.

“Winning a guilty verdict in the Menendez case will

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10

first time for everything

solidify your chances for promotion, Blake,” she said.

“I hope the file helps.”

“Every piece of information helps.” They reached

the busy sidewalk and he stopped to face the beautiful lawyer. “Seriously,” he said. “I appreciate your time.”

“You know I’m always available,” Sara said as she

brushed his arm with her fingers, and Blake bit back

a smile.

Her touch seemed like a simple gesture, but he knew

better.

Sara was classy. Poised. And intelligent. Known for

being a bulldog in the courtroom, she possessed a ded-

ication and pragmatism that rivaled his. Just the sort of woman Blake should date. Just the sort of woman

Blake usually did date. One who understood his career goals and the time requirements.

So why was he hesitating?

While the question darted around his head, a pass-

ing lawyer stopped to ask Sara a question, and Blake

paused, knowing he was a fool for ignoring the offer

in her eyes. Nikki might be more of a time-consum-

ing handful than a little sister had a right to be, not to mention the high-profile case that currently required

his full attention, but he was a red-blooded man who

enjoyed sex as much as the next guy. Despite ample

opportunity, it had been six months since he’d last

woken up with a woman in his bed. Six months since

he’d followed through on the urge.

What was his problem?

As he contemplated the question, a female who

looked barely old enough to vote plowed into him, her

eyes fixed on her phone as one of her black-booted

heels landed on his toes. Gripping her arms, Blake

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aimee carson

11

stared down at the long, honey-colored hair, the

Beatles T-shirt and the enticing cutoffs—not short

enough to reveal the underwear beneath, but coming

pretty damn close. His internal debate made a lateral

move from his sex life to whether there was lace or

a thong beneath the shorts. And combined with the

sight of sexy leather cowboy boots…

Man, he seriously needed to get a grip.

His feminine assailant slipped her phone into her

pocket and removed her foot from his. “Sorry, Suit,”

she drawled, and Blake set her back, his eyebrows

pulling together in amusement at the nickname.