PROBLEM WITH FOREVER Goodreads

The expression on her face said he gave great full frontal, and when he laughed, her pink lips split into a wide smile. Her smile transformed her from pretty to beautiful, but my attention swung away from her as tiny hairs rose all over my body. That laugh…it was deep, rich and somehow familiar. A shiver crept over my shoulders. That laugh…
He was walking backward, and I was rather amazed that he didn’t trip over anything, actually somewhat envious of that fact. And then I realized he was heading toward the last half circle. Toward me. I glanced around. There were only a few seats open, two on my left. The girl was following him. Not just following him. Touching him.

Touching him like she’d done it a lot.

Her slim arm was extended, her hand planted in the center of his stomach, just below his chest. She bit down on her lower lip as her hand drifted farther south. Golden bangles dangling from her wrist got awful close to the worn leather belt. My cheeks heated as the boy stepped out of her reach. There was something playful about his movements, as if this dance was a daily routine for them both.

He turned at the end of the desks, stepping behind the occupied chair, and my gaze tracked up narrow hips, over the stomach the girl had touched, up and up, and then I saw his face.

I stopped breathing.

My brain couldn’t perceive what I was seeing. It did not compute. I stared up at him, really saw him, saw a face that was familiar yet new to me, more mature than I remembered but still achingly beautiful. I knew him. Oh my God, I would know him anywhere, even if it had been four years and the last time I’d seen him, that last night that had been so horrible, had changed my life forever.

It was too surreal.

Now the reason why he’d popped in my head this morning made sense, because I’d seen him, but hadn’t realized it was him.
I couldn’t move, couldn’t get enough air into my lungs and couldn’t believe this was happening. My hands slipped off the desk, falling limply into my lap as he dipped into the seat next to me. His gaze was on the girl who took the seat next to him, and his profile, the strong jaw that had only been hinted at the last time I’d seen him, tilted as his eyes moved over the front of the room, across the wall-length chalkboard. He looked like he had back then, but bigger and with everything more…more defined. From the eyebrows darker than the mix of brown and black hair and thick lashes to the broad cheekbones and the slight scruff covering the curve of his jaw.

Goodness, he’d grown up in the way I’d thought he would when I was twelve and started to really look at him, to see him as a boy.

I couldn’t believe he was here. My heart was trying to claw itself out of my chest as lips—lips fuller that I remembered—tilted up, and a knot formed in my belly as the dimple formed in his right cheek. The only dimple he had. No matching set. Just one. My mind raced back through the years, and I could only think of a handful of times I’d seen him relaxed. Leaning back in the chair that seemed too small for him, he slowly turned his head toward me. Eyes that were brown with tiny flecks of gold met mine.

Eyes I’d never forgotten.
The easy, almost lazy smile I’d never seen on his face before froze. His lips parted and a paleness seeped under his tawny skin. Those eyes widened, the gold flecks seeming to expand. He recognized me; I had changed a lot since then, but still, recognition dawned in his features. He was moving again, leaning forward on his seat toward me. Four words roared out of the past and echoed in my head.

Don’t make a sound.

“Mouse?” he breathed.

“Armentrout’s effort to gradually coax her protagonist from her shell via a supportive, loving community succeeds, and readers looking for an inspirational comeback story will find Mallory’s to be satisfying and hopeful” –Publishers Weekly

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

#1 New York Times and #1 International Bestselling author Jennifer lives in Martinsburg, West Virginia. All the rumors you’ve heard about her state aren’t true. When she’s not hard at work writing, she spends her time reading, watching really bad zombie movies, pretending to write, and hanging out with her husband and her Jack Russell Loki. Her dreams of becoming an author started in algebra class, where she spent most of her time writing short stories….which explains her dismal grades in math. Jennifer writes young adult paranormal, science fiction, fantasy, and contemporary romance. She is published with Spencer Hill Press, Entangled Teen and Brazen, Disney/Hyperion and Harlequin Teen. Her book Obsidian has been optioned for a major motion picture and her Covenant Series has been optioned for TV. Her young adult romantic suspense novel DON’T LOOK BACK was a 2014 nominated Best in Young Adult Fiction by YALSA. She also writes Adult and New Adult contemporary and paranormal romance under the name J. Lynn. She is published by Entangled Brazen and HarperCollins.

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He stood up and hesitated a moment, then turned west and started walking. His pace was brisk, but he couldn’t outrun his thoughts.

Best man? In what world could you possibly be the best man for anything?

Grant kicked his toes through the sand and began to run. The sea air felt good on his arms, and the sand was soft and warm underfoot. He passed a couple playing Frisbee near the water and offered them a friendly smile.

“Afternoon,” he called. “Beautiful day.”

“Sure is!”

He kept running, his pace strong and even. Rows of condos gave way to thick palms, and soon he’d lost sight of any other human life. This was his favorite part of this area of Kauai, his favorite spot on any of the Hawaiian Islands, really. It was possible to lose yourself completely.

Almost.

He’d been running at least thirty minutes when he spotted a cluster of people. Odd, considering few people even knew this section of beach even existed. The tourists sure as hell didn’t know about it, and most locals stayed away on weekdays. He slowed his stride, frowning. Was he imagining things, or were all of them buck naked?

No, not all of them. His eyes landed on a woman in a bright yellow sundress. She had shoulder-length hair that glinted reddish-gold in the sun. As she turned toward him, her grass-green eyes lit up with something that looked like relief. Grant kept moving forward, almost without realizing his body was carrying him toward her.

For the first time in his life, Grant’s brain tuned out the naked breasts around him and zeroed in on the one fully clothed woman in sight.

“Thank God you’re finally here,” she said, grabbing his arm.

Grant blinked at her, too stunned to reply.

Not that he had a chance to get a word out anyway. She kept talking, her words coming out in a jumbled rush.

“We were starting to get worried. Well, everyone except the rest of the groomsmen, who were all taking bets on whether the best man would make it, but now that you’re here—”

“Best man,” Grant repeated, his brain trying to wrap itself around her words.

“I don’t mean to rush you, but you’ve got three minutes to take your clothes off and get oiled up,” she said. “You can use that tent over there if you want, though I don’t really see the point since you’ll be running around naked for the next few hours.”

He stared at her. He knew it wasn’t polite, but it was hard not to admire the lush curve of her breasts beneath the yellow sundress, and the taut muscles in her calves. Her toes were bare and tipped with bright orange polish, and the inside of her right ankle bore a small tattoo of a feather. Her arms were long and pale, but shapely. He looked back up at her face, which was framed by straight, shoulder-length hair the color of carrot cake.

She frowned at him and spit out a lock of it, and Grant wondered if it tasted like cinnamon and nutmeg. He was thinking of running his fingers through it when a gust of wind blew her hair across her face, showing two bright blue streaks mixed in with the auburn strands.

Interesting.

The woman tightened her grip on his arm, and Grant lost his breath for an instant.

“Come on, buddy,” she said. “We’ve been waiting on you. Off with the clothes already.”

Another woman joined them, wearing nothing but a short veil and pair of sunglasses. She touched the redhead’s arm and leaned close. “Actually, Anna, this isn’t—”

“Sure I am,” Grant said, and reached for the hem of his shirt.

“I hope I read that right.” The brunette scooted out from under his arm, and he instantly missed her softness. She looked up at him with those odd violet-gray eyes and smiled. “You looked like you were being eaten alive there, but too polite to tell her to back off.”

“Eaten alive,” he repeated, a little mesmerized by the woman’s eyes. “I’m not entirely sure.”

“Seemed like that’s what was going on. Salesgirl sees a big guy with a big budget and big—” She paused, then gave a small shrug. “Well, sometimes it brings out the worst in women.”

“Thank you,” he said, meaning it. “I’ve been flying back and forth between cities all week, so I’m a little jet-lagged and distracted. I guess I wasn’t even a hundred percent sure I was being—uh—”

“Hit on? Ogled? Mentally undressed?”

“Right.” He cleared his throat. “Not until you pointed it out. Thanks for the rescue.”

“No problem. Pay it forward sometime.”

“Is that real? It’s huge.”

She blinked, then glanced down at the paperweight-sized rock adorning her ring finger. “Nah, I keep it in my purse for when I want to avoid getting hit on at ladies’ night.”

“Does it work?”

“Not with the real jackasses, which probably defeats the purpose, huh?”

He nodded, not sure what to say to that. “I’m sorry, what was your name again?”

“Holly. Holly Colvin. I’m the owner of First Impressions.”

“First Impressions?”

“We’re a public relations and branding firm that specializes in creating and remaking corporate identities.” She fished into her purse to pull out a business card. She held it out to him and Ben started to reach for it, but Holly withdrew her hand.

“Shit. Vampira the Sales Queen is headed back here.”

Before he could say anything, Holly was sliding her hand around to cup his ass. For a few beats, he thought she was copping a feel, and he hoped like hell she kept doing it. Then he realized she was tucking her card into his back pocket. She grinned and tilted her head back to look up at him.

“Gotta commit to the role, right?”

“Right,” he murmured, staring down into those slate-speckled eyes. “We certainly do.”

“I suppose we could throw in a little something extra if you really want her to buy it.”

“Like what?”

Her lips parted slightly, almost like she was braced for a kiss. Or was that his imagination? It seemed hot in here, and he was getting dizzy, and now all he could think about was claiming those perfect lips.

“I’m sure you’ll come up with something,” she murmured.

Her mouth looked so soft, so inviting, and he could have sworn her lashes fluttered low the way they might if she were waiting for him to make a move. A big move.

He knew what he needed to do. What he wanted to do.

And with that, he bent and kissed her.

Holy mother of hard-ons. 

Okay, Holly couldn’t actually detect a hard-on, but she was feeling every other inch of this luscious man with the enormous hands and the sexy-geek vibe and the magical mouth that was kissing her silly in the middle of the damn furniture store.

Had she started it, or had he? Did it matter?

So your brother—”

“Right, sorry,” she said as Kelli began swabbing the cat’s love spuds with disinfectant. “That’s actually what I came here to talk about. You know how you’ve lusted after Mac since—well, um, puberty?”

“Of course. Your brother is hot.”

“And you know how he’s barely aware you exist?”

Kelli picked up her scalpel and quirked an eyebrow at Sheri. “Are you planning to make a point here?”

“Right. Yes, definitely.” Sheri cleared her throat as Kelli poised her scalpel for the first incision. “Will you marry my brother?”

Kelli blinked, then slid her scalpel through the cat’s scrotum. “This is always how I imagined my first marriage proposal.”

“I’m serious,” Sheri said as Kelli focused on the incision. “Well, sorta. See, Mac has this business deal. And he needs a fiancée to pull it off. A fake fiancée. That’s where you come in.”

Kelli slid the cat’s testicles out, marveling for the millionth time that they were the exact size and color of a pair of great northern beans. Maybe she should make white chili for dinner.

“What does Mac’s top-secret military bullshit have to do with marriage?”

“He can’t tell me much,” Sheri said, looking away as Kelli began tugging the testicle to break down the ligament. “That’s the nature of top-secret military bullshit, as you put it.”

“I’m sure that’s what it says in the contract.”

“Right. Anyway, here’s what I know. Mac told a fib to land a deal. He said he has a fiancée, and now he needs to produce one quickly so he can close the deal. You’d need to spend a couple weeks in Todos Santos, Mexico. You’d attend a few functions, play the doting bride-to-be, collect a ridiculous amount of money for your trouble, and say goodbye at the end of it.”

Kelli felt her heart kick up a notch. “Todos Santos?”

“You know it?”

She nodded, feeling a bubble of excitement low in her belly. “They’ve got an enormous feral cat colony. I’ve always wanted to do a spay-and-neuter clinic there.”

“Really?”

“I even applied for the permits and made contact with some volunteers over there who could assist. I just never had the time or the money or—”

“Money’s no object with Mac,” Sheri said, waving a dismissive hand. “He’s a private contractor with a jillion government contracts and endless military resources. None of us are exactly sure what he does, but it’s very lucrative.”

“He’s paying me to marry him?”

“To pretend to marry him. You’d be well compensated for your time if you’re willing to play the fiancée role for a few weeks. You just need to be compliant, soft-spoken, beautiful, sweet, demure, and drama-free.”

Kelli raised an eyebrow. “You’re aware you just gave a complete list of antonyms for my personality.”

“Well, you are beautiful.”

“Thanks. It all sounds so romantic,” she deadpanned. “Will Mac throw in a ride on a white stallion before we trot into the sunset to make beautiful babies and live happily ever after?”

“You’re allergic to horses, afraid of babies, and horrified by commitment.”

“Do I at least get to bang your brother?”