8 Brand-New Romance Authors

His stomach churned. His hands felt tingly as the adrenaline pumped through his veins. In his line of work, he went head-to-head with serious fires and life-and-death situations, but this five-foot-six-inch fiery redhead had to be the scariest encounter he had ever faced.

Josh took in a deep, stabilizing breath before lifting his hand and knocking on the door. He heard footsteps. His heartbeat became so loud it drowned out the noise. The door opened; he held his breath. When he saw Sabina on the other side of the threshold, he let it out in a whoosh.

“Is Micah around?”

“Is Micah around? You’ve got some nerve showing up h—”

“Sabina, I don’t really feel like getting into it with you right now. I just need to talk to her.”

“Well, I am thinking you pretty much screwed up your chance to talk to her the other night.”

“Come on, just let me in.”

“I would, but she’s not even here. She went out with Hanna.” Then, as if she needed to throw salt in the wound, she said, “She went to meet some new guys. It is about time she met someone decent.”

“Listen, I know you have never been fond of me and we have had our differences. And I will be the first to say that Micah deserves more than what I have to offer, but I do love her. I am a stupid idiot and I may have ruined everything, but I need to at least make it right.”

“That is sweet and everything, but for real, she is not here. I think you’ve missed your shot, buddy.” Sabina closed the door on him, leaving him staring at the fall wreath that hung on the door.

He took a step back and was met with the wall. Leaning against it, he slowly lowered himself to the floor. What was he doing? He should leave. He should pretend he had not let Jamie talk him into this ridiculous idea. Micah would never know. He could text Sabina and ask her to keep quiet—judging by her reaction to him, like a mama bear protecting her baby, he knew she would agree and keep it between them.

He brought his knees up, propped his elbows on them and dropped his head in his hands. He really should just leave, but he couldn’t do it. He needed to see her the way he needed his next breath. Nothing would ever be the same if she was not a part of his life.

* * *

Hanna dropped Micah off after a night of failed attempts at meeting eligible men and maybe one too many cocktails. There were a few possibilities that she’d felt held some potential. But each guy she met would smile at her and flirt with her, but in the end they just came up short. One by one she knocked them down.

Not Josh.

Not Josh.

Nope.

Definitely not even close to being Josh.

The guys seemed to be interested in her, which she took as a good sign, but she hadn’t been able to find any that she was interested in. Maybe in time she would. She was not giving up just yet. She would find someone.

In the meantime, it was going to be a lot of fun getting to know who she really was apart from all that she had been hiding behind.

Micah rounded the corner, climbed the last flight of steps to the third floor and noticed him sitting there in front of her door, as if he was waiting for her. She closed her eyes and opened them again, wondering if maybe she had just conjured up his image.

He looked up at her, his eyes filled with pain and regret. Her heart broke all over again seeing him sitting there. He stood and wiped his hands down the front of his jeans. He wore a navy hoodie, the one with his firefighter emblem on the chest. She always thought he looked invincible yet huggable when wearing that hoodie. But she couldn’t hug him anymore. Not right now, at least. Or maybe any time soon.

“I needed to talk to you. I had to see you.”

“What for?”

“I shouldn’t have...I should have told you the truth.” He ran his hand through his hair. She could see the evidence of stress and pain all over his face. “I...uh...I lied, Micah.”

“What do you mean?

“Give me a moment. This is difficult for me.”

Josh looked down at his feet, shoved his hands in his pockets, then pulled them out again. He seemed nervous. She had never seen him like this before. It was an unsettling sight. At the same time it warmed her heart and showed a side of him that was vulnerable in a way she did not know he could be.

She found herself fidgeting as well, playing with her keys and fumbling with the strap of her purse on her shoulder.

“I lied the other night. I was a being a coward. A coward and a liar. I would completely understand if you never wanted to talk to me again, but I just need to tell you the truth.”

She said nothing, just nodded her head for him to continue. She was all ears.

“I was afraid.” He still looked down at his feet, avoiding eye contact. “I was afraid that if I told you the truth that I would lose you.”

“Lose me? You could never lose me, unless you push me away.” Then again, he had lost her in a way, even if it was temporary.

His hands went back in his pockets.

This whole scene was beginning to make her nervous, too. Especially with how nervous he was acting right now. “What truth are you talking about?”

He lifted his head, the full force of his gray eyes enveloping her under his spell. It was as if he summoned all his courage and took a deep breath. His eyes dropped to her lips, then back up to her eyes.

“Micah...” It came out as a breath, barely a whisper. Her name on his lips said more to her than anything else. The one word was filled with so much emotion and reverence, and so many unknowns.

“Drew called me right before the accident. We were arguing when he lost control.”

She gasped, her hand covering her open mouth. “Oh, Josh.”

He didn’t look up. She wanted so badly to comfort him, but stopped herself. He needed to say this. He needed to get it out. She knew all too well the powerful grip that grief could have on you. He had to release it.

“He was angry with me. Over you. I shouldn’t have... I wish I had... I’m sorry, Mike.”

She could see it in his eyes. He had carried the weight of guilt, blaming himself for the accident. She went to him then, wrapped her arms around his waist, leaned her head on his chest. “Why are you apologizing? It was an accident, Josh. It wasn’t your fault.”

She felt the tension slowly ease from his shoulders. He pulled back from her enough to look into her eyes. “Your name was the last thing he said. I promised him I would take care of you. Maybe I took that job a little too seriously. I don’t know.”

He pulled away completely, walked to the end of the hallway then back. “I’ve tried. You have to believe me. I’ve tried so hard to keep my promise to him. I built a wall around you to keep you safe, even from me, but you scaled it. I just wanted to protect you. And I realized it was never about the promise. It was you. It’s always been you. You grabbed hold of my heart and I can’t let you go. Something keeps pulling me back to you. You have a hold on me that I can’t seem to break—that I don’t want to break.”

“What are you saying?”

“Micah—” his eyes dropped to her lips again “—I need you to kiss me.” Josh stepped closer, but not close enough. “I need to feel your lips against mine. I need to taste you one more time. I can’t go another moment without kissing you again.”

Frozen, unable to move, she stood there as he inched closer to her still. His head dipped low, coming in close to hers without touching, his lips only a breath away from her own. She felt the warm rush of air, the sweet smell of his breath as he hovered over her mouth.

Ever the gentleman when it came to her, she knew he wouldn’t kiss her without her approval. If this kiss was going to happen, she had to be the one to make that final step. She only needed to lean forward; he was less than an inch away. But once that happened, it meant there was no going back to the way things were.

She didn’t ever want to go back to that.

Without a second thought, she closed the gap and pressed her lips home. She poured every ounce of emotion she had into the kiss, holding nothing back. If they were going to do this, really do this, then he needed to know how she truly felt. His lips molded to hers as if they were made to be together.

He slowly began to pull back. She did not want it to end, but knew the kiss was growing in intensity. Maybe the hallway outside her front door was not the best place for this to happen. His hands came around to gently grasp her forearms, pulling her hands away from his chest. His fingers slid down her arms until he had her hands within his at their sides. He placed several small kisses to her lips, as if needing to end the kiss but not being able to find the strength to do it.

“Micah.” He said her name against her lips. That had to be the sexiest thing she had ever experienced. Granted, her sexy experiences were limited.

“Hmm.” It was the only response she could manage at this moment.

“I love you.”

Her eyes snapped open. “You do?”

“Yes.” He still had not completely pulled away. He took their intertwined hands and wrapped his arms around her, forcing her hands back as well. “Sorry I was such an idiot and was too afraid to say it before. I was a coward.”

“Coward is that last word I would ever use to describe you.” She pulled back to see his face in full while he talked, to be able to read his eyes. “What were you so scared of?”

“Many things. I was scared that you would blame me for Drew’s death...”

“Never.”

“The thought of losing you scared me the most, but stupidly, I almost lost you, anyway. I knew when you kissed me the night of the snowstorm that I was in deep trouble. That there was no way I was getting out of this unscathed. That was frightening.”

“You mean the morning after the snowstorm. We kissed in the snow, not the night before.”

“We kissed the night before and the next morning. You seriously can’t remember?” A laugh exploded from deep within him.

Her hand went to her mouth in shock. Her mind raced to piece together the memories of that night. Heat crept up the back of her neck. “I thought I was dreaming!”

“I wondered. When you were completely oblivious to the fact you tried to jump my bones the night before, I wondered if maybe you had experienced a little bit of sleepwalking. Oh, you tested my limits that night!”

She let her forehead fall to his chest, not wanting to look him in the eyes. She couldn’t help the smile that formed on her face, nor could she deny that she had indeed tried to jump his bones that night.

But come on, she’d thought she had been within the safety and anonymity of a dream!

He kissed the top of her head as he reined in his laughter and continued. “You threw me for a loop that night, and I was terrified. I was scared of the emotions I was feeling. I have never felt anything like that before.”

She felt giddy, like a little schoolgirl with her first crush, only better. “You haven’t?”

“No. This is all new to me. Maybe that’s why it took me so long to figure it out.”

“Show me how you feel again.” She grabbed the back of his neck and brought his face down to meet her own.

He didn’t hesitate for a moment, showing her exactly how he felt about her with a kiss that, if she’d been wearing socks, would have knocked them clean off. He kissed her as though he couldn’t get enough of her, and she felt the same thing. She never wanted this to end.

They stood there in the hallway, completely unaware of their surroundings. She placed her hand on the side of his face, needing the confirmation that he was real and not another dream playing tricks on her.

“I love you, Micah, and I don’t ever want to let you go. You’re the first woman I’ve ever said that to, you know. I want you to be the first woman I bring home to meet my family, too.”

She actually felt herself blushing. She hadn’t seen them in years, but she still knew his family well. “I’ve already met your family, you goof.”

“I know, but still. I want them to see you as the woman I love, not just the girl I was friends with. Still sounds strange to my own ears, but I don’t think I could grow tired of telling you. I love you, Micah.”

“I love you, too, Josh.” She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him again.

Who would have guessed this would ever come about? She’d never thought the day would come that she would be in the middle of the hallway in her apartment building, kissing Josh Taylor with abandon. My, my, how life had a way of taking you by surprise. And all it took was letting go of the past and allowing herself to embrace the here and now.

She really had missed out on a lot during that time, but she was not going to let it get her down. No, she was only going to focus on making the most of today. And at the moment, that involved relishing the divine rush caused by the touch of Josh’s hands. His skillful lips felt like heaven and his arms held her tight, as if they never wanted to let her go.

His hands came up to frame her face. And as he kissed her softly this time, she felt his fingertips graze her neck and slip beneath the collar of her jacket. He pushed it off her shoulders as he broke away from her lips and kissed a path down the sensitive part of her neck. He turned her in his arms so that she was facing away from him but still nestled within his grasp. His lips continued their divine assault down the delicate slope of her shoulders. She let her head fall back against him as he pushed the strap of her dress aside.

“I just have one more question.”

“Hmm...”

He placed a kiss over the tiny heart tattoo that graced her left shoulder.

“Is this...?”

“Yes.” She knew what he wanted to know before he even voiced it. “I went to get it done and as I sat there and waited for my turn, I realized what I really wanted was your heart. And this is how you always sign your text messages to me.”

She turned in his arms, needing to see the face she loved so dearly. “When did you see it?”

“I noticed it during the snowstorm.” He kissed her again, then spoke the words against the side of her mouth. “I wanted it to be me.”

* * * * *

Read on for an extract from ONLY THE BRAVE TRY BALLET by Stefanie London

ONE

What do a ballerina and a football player have in common? It was the question Jasmine Bell pondered as she watched the footballer in front of her struggling to master a plié. Discounting a need for flexible hamstrings...they have nothing in common. Absolutely nothing. Yet here they were.

She stood in the middle of the studio, wearing her usual uniform of a black leotard, tights and ballet shoes. These items were like a second skin to a dancer, but tonight she couldn’t have felt more exposed than if she were standing there butt-naked. She folded her arms tight across her chest.

‘Let’s take it from the top. Keep those shoulders down,’ she said, forcing a calming breath. She loosened her shoulders, rounded her arms into first position and turned her feet out to match. ‘Prepare...left hand on the barre and plié—one, two, three, four...’

The man in front of her smirked as he followed her instructions with a lazy swagger. Everything about Grant Farley got under her skin, from the cocky grin on his face to the way his thick blond brows rose at her when she spoke. He was a man designed to destroy a woman’s concentration.

Keeping her distance, she watched his movements and provided assistance verbally. Usually she helped her students by guiding them with her hands, but there was something about him that made her mind scream Look but don’t touch. Maybe it was because he moved with a self-assurance that she envied, or maybe it was because after her six months of celibacy he looked good enough to eat.

Much to her chagrin he was a quick learner, and rapidly gained ground despite his insistence on goofing around.

‘You’re doing well,’ Jasmine said as they paused between repetitions. She was determined to be the consummate professional, even if it was harder to pull off than the pas de deux from Don Quixote, Act Three. ‘I can see improvements already and it’s only your first lesson.’

‘It’s not exactly difficult,’ he responded, his blue eyes meeting hers and sending a chill down her spine. His tone dismissed her praise. ‘I’m bending up and down on the spot. A two-year-old could master that.’

Jasmine bristled. Only a beef-head Aussie Rules footballer would fail to see the importance of the step she’d taught him.

She pursed her lips. ‘That’s an over-simplification, don’t you think?’

‘Not really.’ He crossed his arms and leant back against the barre, appraising her. ‘You can give it a fancy French name if you want, but it’s just bending your knees.’

‘Well, I never thought a career could be made out of chasing a little red ball.’ She tilted her chin up at him. ‘But there you go.’

‘Our balls aren’t little,’ he drawled, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Her cheeks flamed. She ignored the innuendo and started the music, preparing herself to repeat the exercise facing him.

‘Once more from the top.’

As the music started he followed her lead, bending with his feet in first position. The teacher in her couldn’t ignore the fault of his technique, as he bent his hips moved out of alignment and his feet rolled inwards. She instinctively reached out to correct the error but retracted her hand when her brain kicked into gear.

‘I don’t bite.’

His wolfish grin seemed at odds with the promise of safety, but Jasmine wasn’t going to let some arrogant joker mess with her head. She was the teacher; she was the one in charge here.

‘You need to keep your hips steady.’ She stepped forwards and placed a hand on each hip. His muscles were tight and flame-hot beneath her palms. He bent down into plié once more and she guided him, ignoring the frisson of electricity that shot through her.

‘Make sure your core is pulled in. It will increase balance and stop you rocking forwards.’

‘Like this?’ He grabbed her hand and placed her palm against his stomach. She could feel the ripple of each muscle through his T-shirt. His sports tights moulded every curve of his muscle, every bulge...

Jasmine gulped, her blood pounding as though she’d run a marathon. Get it together.

‘Yes, like that.’ She withdrew her hand, the heat of him still burning her fingertips.

She was going to strangle Elise, her soon to be former best friend, for roping her into this disaster waiting to happen. She was going to—

‘Earth to Bun-Head.’ Grant waved a hand in front of her face, chuckling when she returned her focus to him. ‘I don’t see how this is helping my hamstring. Shouldn’t we be stretching or something? We need to speed up this flexibility thing. I’ve got an important game coming up.’

He shook his leg and rubbed at the muscle.

‘Flexibility is a slow process. You can’t turn up to one ballet lesson and expect to be a contortionist. It takes time.’

‘I’d settle for being injury-free,’ he replied. ‘But if you want to show me how you can put your ankles behind your head then be my guest.’

‘This is not Cirque du Soleil.’ Jasmine bit each word out through gritted teeth.

‘It might as well be.’ He checked the clock above them. ‘Though, shocking as it might seem, I’m not here for the laughs. I want to fix my hamstring and get back to spending my time on real training.’

Jasmine wasn’t ready to let him have the last word. Sure, she had her motivations for agreeing to take Grant on as a student, but that didn’t give him licence to be rude. ‘I’m not exactly here for enjoyment either.’

‘If you loosened up you might find some aspects of it enjoyable.’

She sucked in a breath and willed herself not to respond. Glancing at the clock, she held in a sigh of relief as the hand neared 8:00 p.m. Their hour together had hardly been successful. In fact she could chalk it up as her most frustrating lesson ever...and this was only the beginning.

‘Is it that time already?’

His amused tone set fire to Jasmine’s resolve to play cool, calm and collected. She wanted to slap the mocking look right off his ruggedly handsome face. He raised an eyebrow, as if to punctuate his question.

This was going to be her life two nights a week for the next six months, and she wasn’t looking forward to it one bit! Unfortunately these lessons weren’t about the ideal way to spend her free time. No, it all came down to dollars and cents. Once again she was in a position where she needed to play up to some arrogant guy who thought he owned the world to be able to pay her bills.

‘I think we can finally call it a night,’ she said.

‘Don’t sound too upset to be rid of me.’ He uncrossed his arms and leant forwards, his broad shoulders casting a shadow over her.

‘The lessons are for one hour, Mr Farley.’ Her voice was tight and her lungs were arid and devoid of air. ‘If you want more time you’ll have to arrange it with the studio owner.’

‘One hour is plenty, Ms Bell,’ he teased, and raked a hand through his thick blond hair.

Why did he have to be so damn attractive? Her insides flipped as his hair sprang back into place. She headed towards the door to the waiting room and he walked with her, a little too close for comfort. The scent of his aftershave found its way to her nostrils and filled her head with unwanted though not unpleasant images. She shut her eyes for a moment, pushing away the desire that flared like the lighting of a match.

He wasn’t good-looking in the traditional, clean-cut way she preferred. But there was something about his rough-around-the-edges look that drew her in. He had a strong jaw and razor-sharp cheekbones; his nose was crooked, as though it had been broken at some point and hadn’t healed properly. She had a strange, powerful urge to run her fingertips over the bump, to confirm her suspicions.

She bit down on her lip. There was no way in hell she would let herself fall for a guy like him. Egotistical, cocky guys were a thing of her past, and she intended to keep it that way. It was strictly business, and after he paid her for the lesson she could go home and forget she was selling out. Forget that her dream had been reduced to this BS.

Grant walked over to his duffel bag and rifled through it, withdrawing a thick envelope. He thrust it in her direction.

‘This should cover me,’ he said. ‘Coach thought it’d be easier to pay up front since you only take cash.’

The rewarding heaviness of the envelope sat in Jasmine’s hands. It would cover her rent and bills for the next month or two, and give her a little breathing space. Relief coursed through her, immediately followed by a wave of shame as she tucked the envelope into her handbag. She didn’t bother to count it. A guy who earned more than a million a year, if you believed the papers, was hardly likely to scrimp on a couple of hundred dollars for ballet lessons.

‘Thanks,’ she muttered without looking at him, dropping onto one of the couches and peeling off her leg warmers.

‘Just so we’re clear, this is something I have to do to tick a box. I don’t have any secret dreams of wearing a tutu and getting up on stage. So don’t take it personally if I don’t crave your feedback.’

Self-important, arrogant, egotistical...

‘Fine.’ Untying her ballet shoes, she reached for her fleece-lined black leather boots. Her body was cooling down and her ankle ached. Grimacing, Jasmine rubbed at the soreness, feeling the rippled skin of her scar underneath her tights before sliding the boot on. ‘You’re here to tick a box. I’m here for the money.’

If he wanted to play it like that, then he could expect an equal response from her. Hopefully the weeks would pass quickly and then she could move on to figuring out what to do with her life.

As he pulled a pair of tracksuit pants from his bag Grant’s leg muscles flexed and bulged through his leave-nothing-to-the-imagination sports tights. She’d spent the whole hour forcing her eyes up and away from the tight fabric that stretched over his thighs and...well, everything.