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How do you fall out of love with a man who’s all in?
Counting on Love, Book 2
Isabelle Dixon never should have said yes to that first date, but she couldn’t resist Shane Kelley’s larger-than-life personality. Except now Shane seems determined to make their no-strings fling into something more.
If she thought dating Shane was hard work, breaking up is proving to be much harder. Especially since she’s planning on making some major life changes that don’t include staying out all night, Jell-O shots, and a sex toy shop punch card. She needs a restful cabin getaway—alone—to gather her thoughts. And the strength to finally end things for good.
Shane has always prided himself on being the good-time guy. Exactly Isabelle’s type…or so he thought. Yet ever since he suggested her moving in, she’s been pulling back. Thing is, Shane does everything with gusto—including falling in love.
He’s not about to let her get away that easily. Even if it means chasing her heart down a crazy road to prove that no matter what life throws at them, they make a damned good team.
Product WarningsContains a strange road trip with several weird tourist stops, some hot sex in a car wash, and two people who are just crazy enough to be perfect for one another.
Shane Kelley was a great pool player.
At least he had been at one time. Before he’d started hanging out at Trudy’s. Before he’d met Isabelle Dixon.
That woman had been distracting him since they’d first said hello.
Of course, he told her that he threw games on occasion to keep the other guys happy.
Truth was, he hadn’t had a solid game in almost a year.
Isabelle slid out of the booth where she and her sisters had been drinking and gabbing for the past thirty minutes and he completely missed his shot.
Ryan Kaye laughed. “I love taking your money, Kelley.”
Shane handed over the twenty they’d put down on the game. “You know it’s because I’m not playing up to par, not because you’re actually good, right?”
Ryan pocketed the money. “All spends the same.”
Uh-huh. Shane propped his cue against the table and reached for his beer, keeping Isabelle in sight. She had headed in the direction of the restrooms, but she had her cell phone out, her thumbs moving over the screen.
He gripped his bottle tighter and took a drink. She distracted him and made him crazy. He should just let her go. He should find someone else. He should see a psychiatrist before he turned into an insane stalker.
Or he should marry her.
That was his favorite idea. And the one he’d been thinking about more and more since she and her sisters had been in a car accident two months ago. Isabelle had only been banged up a little, but he’d never forget the feeling of sheer terror at the idea that he could have lost her.
Getting over her wasn’t going to happen.
So marrying her seemed like the only thing that made sense.
Convincing her of that was turning out to be the hardest thing he’d ever done. He couldn’t even get her to move in. How was he going to get her to say I do?
He knew that their romance had been a whirlwind, that it didn’t make sense to be talking this seriously this soon. He wanted to live with her before they even knew what kind of toothpaste they each preferred or if either of them sang in the shower. Whenever Isabelle was in the shower and he was around, he was in the shower with her. And she didn’t have any breath left to sing.
But it hadn’t worried him. He’d felt it—she was the one. They had a lifetime to learn about each other, and what better way than to live together?
He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and reached for it, realizing that Isabelle must have slipped into the bathroom while he was lost in thought.
I need you.
Shane felt his heart kick in his chest.
Isabelle had that effect on him no matter where they were or what they were doing. Three little words via text and his reaction was simply yes.
It was a little pathetic. Or maybe a lot pathetic.
But whatever Isabelle needed from him, he was all hers.
He tipped his beer back, finishing it off. “Gotta go, guys,” he said.
Ryan raised an eyebrow, glanced toward the table where the Dixon girls had been seated, noticed that Isabelle was missing from the group and looked back to Shane. “Everything okay?”
Shane nodded. “I’ll make sure of it.”
“Good thing Mac has Conner occupied,” Ryan said, nodding to a table behind Shane.
He glanced over to where Isabelle’s brother, Conner, was sitting with Mac Gordon, one of the best—and cockiest—paramedics in the city.
Mac loved to give Conner shit and it had very little to do with Conner being a fellow paramedic. It mostly had to do with Conner’s blatant crush on Mac’s wife. Mac wasn’t at all worried about losing Sara to Conner—which was exactly what he gave Conner shit about.
That most definitely worked in the favor of all the guys who liked to get the Dixon Divas’ attention. Even Ryan, who was openly dating Isabelle’s oldest sister, Amanda, appreciated when their brother was distracted. Conner frowned on too many public displays of affection.
Shane shot Ryan a grin and took the opportunity to head after Conner’s third sister.
There were moments when he almost felt sorry for the guy. He had four younger, beautiful, outgoing sisters.
But then Conner opened his mouth and said something cocky and Shane figured he deserved those four sisters and all the trouble they brought with them.
He stepped into the back hallway. There was only one stall in the bathroom and the door locked, so he was fine meeting up in there. It wouldn’t be the first time. But before he got to the bathroom door, a hand came out from the storage room and pulled him in amongst the brooms and cleaning supplies.
Even without the light, he instantly knew from her body spray that it was Isabelle. He gladly pressed in close so she could shut the door behind him. Once the latch clicked she flipped on the light and pushed him up against the door.
“We need to talk,” she said simply.
Her long blond hair was pulled back into one of the complicated twists that she often wore for work and his hands itched to unfasten the pins and let it loose.
“Damn right we do. When are you moving in?” He lifted a hand and ran his thumb along her jaw instead of messing up her hair. For now.
“Shane, I’m serious.”
Her hands were pressed flat against his chest and he couldn’t help but flash back to the week before when they’d last had sex. On his kitchen table. She’d pulled out chocolate body pens and had drawn on him—all over—before licking it off.
He focused on her. “Sorry.”
“We need to talk about something serious.”
“Sweetheart, I know there’s cotton candy out there, but this is serious. I’ve got the moving truck waiting.”
“I can’t move in with you.”
“See, honey, that’s just not true.” He settled his hands on her hips and moved her closer. “It’s easy. You throw your stuff in a box, you let the big strong moving guys throw it on the truck and it’s done.”
Isabelle gripped the front of his shirt in her hands. “Shane. I. Am. Not. Moving. In. With. You.”
He stared into her green eyes. Why did he put up with all of this? She was a lot of work.
Most of the guys he knew would instantly assume it was about the sex. Isabelle was always up for it, anytime, anywhere, and it was exciting and fun and spicy every time.
But it wasn’t that. Well, it wasn’t just that.
He couldn’t exactly explain what it was, but it wasn’t only about the sex.
“This isn’t about Vegas,” he said, confident that Isabelle knew nothing had happened between him and his ex.
“No,” she admitted, letting go of his shirt. “It’s not.”
He pulled her close again when she tried to step back. “And this isn’t because you’re not in love with me. You are.”
She nodded. “Yes, I think I am.”
Relief rushed through him. He knew it, on some level, but damn, hearing it was really, really good. “Then help me out here, darlin’. Because this doesn’t make any fucking sense.”
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