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Secret Identity, Small Town Romance
Available 4.15.24


Excerpt of Anticipation by Jennifer LaBrecque

Purchase


Harlequin Blaze 228
Harlequin
January 2006
Featuring: Nick O'Malley; Serena
ISBN: 0373792328
Paperback
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Romance Series

Also by Jennifer LaBrecque:

Northern Renegade, September 2012
Paperback / e-Book
Merry Christmas, Baby, December 2011
Mass Market Paperback / e-Book
Merry Christmas, Baby, December 2011
Paperback / e-Book
Northern Fascination, October 2011
Paperback / e-Book
Northern Escape, December 2010
Paperback
Northern Encounter, November 2010
Paperback
Northern Exposure, October 2010
Paperback
Blazing Bedtime Stories, Volume V, May 2010
Mass Market Paperback
Ripped!, October 2009
Mass Market Paperback
Hot-Wired, May 2009
Mass Market Paperback
Triple Threat, March 2009
e-Book
Yule Be Mine, December 2008
Mass Market Paperback
Nobody Does It Better, June 2008
Paperback
The Big Heat, December 2007
Paperback
The Rookie, September 2007
Mass Market Paperback
Secret Santa, December 2006
Paperback
Three Guys You'll Never Date, August 2006
Paperback (reprint)
Highland Fling, July 2006
Paperback (reprint)
Anticipation, January 2006
Paperback
Really Hot, February 2005
Paperback

Excerpt of Anticipation by Jennifer LaBrecque

"I GET OFF OF work in two hours." Cherry, a new waitress, placed the wings and a beer pitcher in the table's center. The food and drinks were for everyone, but the sultry look was for Nick only.

Nick O'Malley smiled back at her but didn't comment. Cherry stood, blocking the ball game. Obviously the regular staff at Dougal's Sports Bar and Grill hadn't taught Cherry the cardinal rule of waitressing in a sports bar: no blocking the big screen. Dougal's wasn't Boston's finest or oldest, but Nick and his buddies had idled away many afternoons and evenings there in the past nine years since they'd reached legal drinking age. Cherry finally left, casting an inviting glance over her shoulder on her way to the kitchen.

"Man, you suck. You don't even have to try to pick up chicks," AJ groused and reached for the wing basket, shaking his blond crew-cut head in disgust.

The room groaned in chorus as Donovan struck out Perez… bases loaded…third out at the top of the ninth. The Red Sox had shot that game to hell. "It's gotten even worse since you hit every trashy newspaper in the country." AJ didn't let it go. "Amazing. You get caught embezzling half a million, your big brother goes on two reality shows to help you come up with the money you owe, the press gets wind of it and — bam — you're famous."

And he'd rather AJ not bring it up. It hadn't exactly been his finest moment. His serious lapse in judgment had affected his whole family. He'd felt the worst about humiliating his parents. The look in their eyes had shattered him. It was something he lived with every day. They hadn't been aghast as much as accepting. Irresponsible Nick had struck again.

Not a day went by that he didn't think about it and rue what he'd done. His mom and dad had stood by him, but told him he had to take responsibility for his actions. He was determined to go one better. He'd never be his older brother, Rourke — talk about a tough act to follow — but he'd finally figured out that being Nick didn't mean landing himself in jail. And standing in Rourke's shadow was something he could choose to do or not.

Although, in a fatalistic kind of way, he wondered if it wasn't supposed to happen and play out the way it had. Rourke had met the woman of his dreams, the associate producer for the two reality shows he'd been on. Portia and Rourke were now happily married and Rourke had bonded like glue with his stepson. Maybe their paths would never have crossed if Nick hadn't screwed up. And maybe Nick wouldn't have grown up and figured out a lot about himself and life in general. One thing for sure, he was never going to get himself into another scrape that embarrassed his family and required Rourke to rescue him.

Nick knew he was lucky he hadn't done jail time for his crime. Lance Gleeson had declined to press charges as long as the money was returned with interest. Nick was also eternally grateful that the women of the world didn't seem to hold it against him, even though it was sort of weird that not only did they not mind, they almost seemed to like it.

"It's gotten better. I think my fifteen minutes of infamy have passed." The latest celebrity couple breakup and another headline proclaiming aliens had visited the White House, and he was yesterday's news. Thank goodness.

"Yeah. In a whole month no one's mobbed us when we've been out with Nicky," Tim said. He was the peacemaker and the only married one in the group. He agreed with whomever was making a point at the time, whether it contradicted what he'd just said or not, a trait that went a long way with his wife, Marsha.

"Chicks have always dug him," AJ said.

Nick shrugged. He liked women and they seemed to like him. It worked. AJ wasn't a bad-looking guy and he made decent money as a site foreman for his father's construction company, but he had an attitude problem that women picked up on. Chicks. "I've been trying to tell you for years, that's your problem. They're not chicks. They're women. They know you think of them as chicks."

"Man's got a point," Tim said, refilling his beer. Nick held out his empty mug and Tim did the honors. "Marsha says 'chick' is demeaning."

AJ shook his head. "Nah. That's not it at all." AJ poured extra hot sauce on his wings. Nick had tried one of AJ's wings several years ago. Personally, he thought there was a lot to be said for still being able to feel your tongue when eating. Nick picked up a mild drummette and bit into it while AJ rambled on. AJ was fond of the sound of his own voice. "Nicky's addicted to women. They sense it and they want to provide his fix."

What? AJ was — "You're full of it," Matt said, dipping a carrot stick in blue-cheese dressing. Between carrying a few extra pounds and early male-pattern baldness, Matt definitely looked the oldest of the four, even though he was six months younger.

AJ eyed the plastic basket of carrots and celery. "Your dick's gonna fall off eating that. You should try some real man food." Cousins as well as friends, AJ and Matt constantly gave one another a hard time.

Matt feigned surprise. "Damn. That's what happened to you, man? Aunt Celeste fed you a carrot and your pecker dropped off? All these years we thought you'd just been shortchanged at birth." He munched his carrot.

"Blow me." AJ stabbed his chicken bone in Matt's direction. "And I'm telling you, Nick's addicted to chicks."

Nick thunked his empty mug onto the scarred wood, thoroughly enjoying himself. "I'm not addicted to women."

"Sure you are." AJ smirked. "Name one time since junior high that you've gone longer than two weeks without a girlfriend."

"There was…" Wait, that hadn't been a week, but what about the time… "Yeah, when I had that emergency appendectomy and couldn't take Melissa Frecht to the dance and she dumped me."

"Sorry, loser. Remember the girl who started bringing your assignments over and doing them for you?"

Martha Crawford. "Oh. Yeah. Okay. But that doesn't prove anything."

"Nicky wants proof." AJ grinned and hoisted his beer at Matt and Tim with a smirk. "You and Trish have been quits for what, three days now?"

"Something like that." Trish had wanted a ring, as in engagement ring, for her thirtieth birthday. Nick had been thinking more along the lines of a box of chocolates. She hadn't liked his idea and he sure hadn't gone for hers. Seeing Rourke and his sister-in-law together had actually left him discontented, wanting more than he had. But Trish wasn't the woman he'd consider growing old beside.

"Five hundred bucks says you can't go without a woman for thirty days," AJ said. He bet on everything.

And Nick usually took him up on it. "Piece of cake," Nick shrugged. He could do this and it went along with his new vow of being more responsible.

Matt whistled through his teeth. "Thirty days is a long time, Nick."

"Especially for you." Tim looked at Nick in apology.

"What?" Tim shifted like the wind. "You guys have no faith in me?" Obviously he needed to prove himself as the new and improved Nick to his buddies.

"You…thirty days…no women…" Matt looked at Tim, who grimaced. Matt glanced back at Nick and shook his head. "Sorry, dude."

AJ smirked. "Money talks, bullshit walks." Nick leaned back in his chair. "We'll see. Define going without. Are we talking no dates? Phone calls? Kisses? Nothing?"

AJ reached for another wing. "Second thoughts? This looking a little harder than you thought?"

"It'll be a walk in the park." Maybe an under-statement, but he could do this. For his own self-respect he had to do this. It was proof of the new direction in his life. Plus, five hundred bucks would leave a big whole in his pocket.

"How many beers have you had?" Matt asked. Two? Maybe three? "Not that many." He looked across the table at AJ. "Now are you gonna lay out the rules or are you rethinking putting your money where your mouth is?"

AJ grinned and Nick didn't bother to tell him he had a chunk of chicken stuck in his front teeth. "I'm putting my money on a sure thing. No dates. No kissing. No copping a feel. Absolutely no sex of any kind and, yeah, that includes phone sex, hand jobs and blow jobs."

Matt winced. "That's harsh, AJ."

"You're being pretty rough on him," Tim said. Nick swallowed. Obviously his three buds thought he'd cave before he even got in the game. "Not a problem."

AJ laughed. "Right. This is gonna be the easiest five hundred bucks I ever made."

He'd known AJ a long time, ever since the four of them had played Little League together. Nick had a few rules of his own to throw out, based on how well he knew AJ. "You can't screw around with me and send women my way. That's cheating."

"Wrong. All's fair in love and war, isn't it, boys?" AJ glanced across the table at Matt and Tim.

"Man's got a point," Tim said. You couldn't count on Tim to back you up in a tight spot.

Matt polished off the last carrot stick. "Sounds fair to me."

"Majority rules." AJ hoisted his beer in a mock toast. "A man on a deserted island can go without a beer, but put a pitcher in front of him and then you know what he's made of."

Excerpt from Anticipation by Jennifer LaBrecque
All rights reserved by publisher and author

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