Chicago Blaze Series by Brenda Rothert – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Chicago Blaze Series by Brenda Rothert – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com Sun, 02 May 2021 20:56:42 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=7.0 http://www.ilovenovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Chicago Blaze Series by Brenda Rothert – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com 32 32 Olivier (Chicago Blaze #9) Read Online Brenda Rothert http://www.ilovenovels.com/olivier-chicago-blaze-9-read-online-brenda-rothert Sun, 02 May 2021 20:40:09 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/olivier-chicago-blaze-9-read-online-brenda-rothert Genre: Billionaire, Contemporary, Romance, Sports Authors: Brenda Rothert Series: Chicago Blaze Series by Brenda Rothert
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 53233 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 266(@200wpm)___ 213(@250wpm)___ 177(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >54

Read Online Books/Novels:	Olivier (Chicago Blaze #9)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Brenda Rothert
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	B08R6FPG8T
Book Information:
Daphne I knew who I was before Olivier Durand came along. Despite growing up among the privileged elite, I never cared about corporate ladders or dream weddings. I proudly wear the label of social justice warrior. Until a car accident changes everything overnight. A video goes viral: Chicago’s Hottest Bachelor, billionaire Olivier Durand pulling me from my burning car. When he sets his sights on me, the whole world is watching. He can chase after me all he wants, but my answer will be the same: I loathe the ultra-wealthy. Even when they’re handsome, persuasive and...I have to admit, charming. It’s a hell no from me, though. Until suddenly, I’m not sure I’m the woman I thought I was. Olivier Now I know how the players on the NHL team I own must feel. Relentlessly hounded. Once the video of me pulling a woman from her burning car goes viral, privacy becomes a thing of the past. For whatever reason, Twitter has collectively decided this woman and I should become a romantic thing. A hashtag combining my name with hers is trending daily. Absolute nonsense. But then I meet her, and realize Twitter got it right. Daphne Barrington is beautiful, funny, brilliant and sweet. Now I just have to convince her to date me. Easier said than done. She’s maddeningly stubborn, and my deep desire to be with her soon has me writing massive checks. Not for jewelry or cars, but to charities. Winning Daphne’s heart is going to cost me, and I’m not sure even I have enough money to do it.
Books in Series:	Chicago Blaze Series by Brenda Rothert
Books by Author:	Brenda Rothert

Chapter One

Olivier

“I don’t like surprises.” The irritation in my voice is rising by the second. “This isn’t what you promised me.”

“I know, and I’m sorry about that.” Tony Giovanni’s tone is pleading. “But if you’ll just sit down with me and take a closer look—”

“Tony, I was clear that I expected full transparency when we discussed me buying into your company.” I glance at my watch and lean forward in the backseat of my SUV, asking my driver Ben, “How much longer?”

He meets my gaze in the rearview mirror. “Should be about twenty more minutes, Mr. Durand.”

I exhale hard and lean back. Ben knows I’m not pissed at him—he’s a retired Chicago cop who knows the fastest route to any destination in the city. I’m running late because my last meeting ran over.

“This deal is almost done,” Tony says from the other end of the phone. “All we have to do is sign.”

I clench my hand into a fist. “The financials would have been a technicality if they’d shown what you told me they would. But your P&L statements were way off. You lied to me about your profits from the past three years.”

Tony huffs a sigh into the phone. “I wasn’t lying. I was just making my best guess.”

“Your best guess?” I can’t help but let out an unamused laugh. “Here’s some free advice—next time you request millions of dollars to save your dying company, know the numbers. You’re either incompetent or a liar, but frankly I don’t care which, because I don’t do business with either.”

“Please, Mr. Durand. I need that money to stay afloat. I may have embellished the details, but—”

“You didn’t embellish. You lied. The deal’s off.”

I end the call and toss my phone on the seat next to me, then rub my forehead. I invested countless hours for a possible ownership stake in that plumbing supply company, and I have nothing to show for it.

Some days I wish I could focus all my energy on being the owner of the Chicago Blaze, the NHL team I bought a few years ago. That’s where my passion truly lies. I don’t work for money anymore—I’ve got plenty. I’ve always liked the challenge of turning around struggling companies. The money I make from my two tech companies allows me to invest in passion projects, and I enjoy taking something that’s broken and putting it back together.

But sometimes deals fall through. I have a mantra in business that’s never failed me—always be willing to walk away.

Hell, that mantra applies to life in general. I think about using it as the theme of a speech for the speaking engagements I do, and I start taking mental notes.

“Well, shit,” Ben mutters, slowing to a stop. “There’s an accident ahead. Scratch that twenty-minute ETA.”

“What’s going on? Can you see it?” I pick up my phone and text my assistant Jack to bump back the meeting I’m heading to.

The sound of a woman screaming sends Ben scrambling to unbuckle his seatbelt.

“I have to go up there. I might be able to help.”

Ben retired from the CPD after an injury that left him with a pretty bad limp. I don’t want him hurting himself trying to run towards an accident.

“I’ve got it, Ben,” I say, as I rush to unbuckle my seatbelt and jump out of the car before he has time to argue.

The sound of the woman screaming is amplified now that I’m out of the car. I move to the shoulder of the road and break into a run, my dress shoes squeezing my toes as I sprint.

“Somebody help! Please!” the woman’s voice cries.

Her shouting makes me run faster. I channel my early-morning treadmill sessions, pumping my arms and running as fast as I can, my heart pounding and my quads burning.

Orange flames finally come into view, and I slow as I take in the absolute chaos of the accident.

There’s a full-size conversion van with a smashed front end, skid marks showing it crossed over from the other side of the road. Two men are helping kids out of the van. And about fifty feet away, a small car is completely flipped over, tires in the air and flames alight beneath it.

“There’s someone stuck in there!” The woman who was screaming runs up to me and grabs my arm, frantic.

“How many people?” I take my suit jacket off, my mind switching into Handle-This-Emergency mode.

“I don’t know. No one has gone over there but there has to at least be a driver. I’m afraid the car will explode.”

A line of bystanders watches as I run over to the car and get on my hands and knees on the ground. The fire must be coming from the engine, and has already spread to the passenger seat. I look towards the driver’s seat. A side airbag is blocking my view, but I can see a woman’s hand hanging limp, her short nails painted pale pink. I don’t think she’s conscious, but I call out to her anyway. There’s no response. I don’t even know if she’s alive.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >54

Advertisement
Kit (Chicago Blaze #8) Read Online Brenda Rothert http://www.ilovenovels.com/kit-chicago-blaze-8-read-online-brenda-rothert Wed, 03 Feb 2021 06:27:54 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/kit-chicago-blaze-8-read-online-brenda-rothert Genre: Romance, Sports Authors: Brenda Rothert Series: Chicago Blaze Series by Brenda Rothert
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 52183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >54

Read Online Books/Novels:	Kit (Chicago Blaze #8)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Brenda Rothert
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	B08DC1KLLG
Book Information:
Kit Molly Lynch isn’t like any woman I’ve met before. The pretty, ball-busting reporter has a penchant for asking questions that dredge up memories I’d rather keep buried. I answer them, though, because I’m so intrigued by her—a mix of shy and bold, so set in her ways that the slightest change knocks her off kilter. The closer Molly gets to my dark truth, though, the more I try to shift her focus to what I want most—her total surrender to me in the bedroom. Molly I finally have the life I’m meant for. Predictable. Boring. Safe. NHL player Kit Carter upsets the stability I crave when he looks at me with his dark eyes, wounded and guarded, but also swirling with desire. I can’t let him figure out who I truly am—driven not by ambition but by anxiety. Unable to let go of my control, even for a second. There’s something about Kit that draws me to him so powerfully it’s no longer a choice, though. I need to give in, even if it costs me everything.
Books in Series:	Chicago Blaze Series by Brenda Rothert
Books by Author:	Brenda Rothert

Chapter One

Molly

* * *

“City desk, Molly Lynch,” I say into the phone as clearly as I can while finishing the last bite of a turkey sandwich at my desk.

“Lynch, get in my office, now!” my boss Lou barks, hanging up abruptly.

Lou refuses to join the twenty-first century and embrace the use of IMs. When he wants a reporter in his office, a growly phone call is all it takes to make us jump from our desk chairs and sprint to the other side of the Chicago Gazette’s second floor.

I wind my way through the open-floor plan room, passing each desk as I wrinkle my nose at the smell of something rotten. God, I hope that’s not someone’s lunch. My stomach rolls at the thought.

“Hey Molls, can you look at this?” my co-worker Jenna calls out as I fly past.

“Later, I’m on my way to Lou’s office,” I yell over my shoulder.

“Keep it down; this is a newsroom, not a bar,” a grouchy copy editor says as I pass him.

And yet, we probably have more drunks here than in a bar. The longer one works in journalism, the more one needs a way to cope with the insane hours, stressful deadlines and general contempt from others. My drink of choice is hot green tea rather than alcohol, because in my first few years as a reporter, I’ve seen several colleagues end up in rehab.

“What’d you do, stop for lunch on the way?” Lou demands when I walk into his office about a minute and a half after our phone call—I clocked it.

“I can’t get here as fast as I could when your office was in the newsroom,” I remind him, breathing hard from my post-lunch power walk. “Back when you were the lowly city editor rather than the metro-area executive editor.”

“That’s a bunch of horseshit and you know it.” He waves his hand and pushes a stack of papers across his desk. “If the owners keep firing editors and combining positions, I’ll be the goddamned publisher before long.”

I glance at the watch on my wrist. “I have to be at city hall at one for a presser.”

“Sit down,” Lou says. “I need to go over a new assignment; it’ll be quick.”

“A new assignment?” I arch my brows as I move a stack of print papers off the chair across from Lou’s desk and sit down.

“What are you, a parrot?” Lou shakes his head.

I suppress an eye roll and rein in the sarcasm as I explain, “That was a rhetorical question. I’m just surprised you’re giving me more work.”

“Look, I know you’re spread thin, between your regular beat and covering for Laura. But you know the drill—the new ownership isn’t letting us fill any open positions in the newsroom.”

“I know, I get it. So what now? Am I covering the entire metro area on my own?”

“You’re doing a feature story for a special section.”

I groan and slouch down in my seat. “Seriously? Special sections suck. No one reads them.”

“Agreed.” My boss peers at me over the top of his wire-rimmed glasses. “But advertising is forcing this on us.”

The Gazette’s city hall reporter, Laura Hinshaw, is out on maternity leave and I’m working night and day covering both her beat and my own. But she told me before she went on leave that she was fifty-fifty on whether she’d return to work or stay home with her baby, and if the city hall beat opens up, I want it. Badly.

I don’t have time for anything extra right now, but I want to stay in Lou’s good graces, so I’ll find a way to work in another story.

“Fine.” I cross my arms, resigned. “I’ll set aside my story about the city’s massive budget shortfall to write a scintillating piece about why Chicago is a great place to shop.”

“That sounds fascinating, Lynch, but the special section is about famous Chicago people.”

“Oh!” I light up, thrilled about the assignment now. “Oprah! Can I please have Oprah? She did her show from here and has done so much for the city, she’d be perfect. I have so many questions for her.”

“Christ, Lynch.” Lou glares at me. “You’re acting like some fresh-faced intern who hasn’t yet been crushed under the filthy boot that is journalism.”

“I’ve been a desk reporter here for five years,” I remind him. “I’m twenty-nine. I may not be a senior reporter, but I work my ass off every day for you. I put in more hours than anyone, and I deserve to interview Oprah as much as someone who’s been here longer.”

Lou lets out one of his trademark throaty smoker’s laughs. “If we all got what we deserved, I’d be on a beach in Tahiti sipping mai tais served by supermodels right now. But reality’s a bitch, Lynch. No one’s interviewing Oprah. All the reporters got assigned someone, so you’re stuck with whoever you got.”

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >54

Advertisement
Jonah (Chicago Blaze #7) Read Online Brenda Rothert http://www.ilovenovels.com/jonah-chicago-blaze-7-read-online-brenda-rothert Mon, 28 Sep 2020 21:39:26 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/jonah-chicago-blaze-7-read-online-brenda-rothert Genre: Angst, Contemporary, Romance, Sports Authors: Brenda Rothert Series: Chicago Blaze Series by Brenda Rothert
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 54429 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 272(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 181(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >56

Read Online Books/Novels:	Jonah (Chicago Blaze #7)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Brenda Rothert
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	B08548KZJ5
Book Information:
Reyna I don’t do relationships. A federal agent whose life revolves around rescuing kidnapped children, I’ve got no interest in catching any man who’s not a criminal. So when my new assignment in Chicago requires me to get closer to a VIP Chicago Blaze fan, Blaze goalie Jonah West is the perfect cover. Like me, he’s too focused on his career to make time for love, dates or even hookups. Jonah I had my great love, and I lost her. No woman will ever compare to the blond ray of sunshine who left me half a man three years ago. And even though I help out my police officer brother by pretending to be head over heels for Reyna, it’s just a farce to put an evil man behind bars. Reyna is a fierce, raven-haired cop with steely eyes and a foul mouth—not my type in the slightest. But when lines get blurred, my fake feelings for Reyna become more real than anything I thought my beat-up heart could ever feel again.
Books in Series:	Chicago Blaze Series by Brenda Rothert
Books by Author:	Brenda Rothert

Chapter One

Reyna

My heart races but my hands remain steady on my weapon. A Phoenix Police Department officer pounds a steel front door with a hand-held battering ram and the hinges rattle, nearly breaking free. Another strike with the ram and the door bursts open.

“Hands in the air!” my colleague Adrian shouts, entering the rundown three-bedroom ranch-style house. “Police! Hands in the air!”

I enter the house, overcome by the smell of pepperoni pizza and pot smoke. The sound of gunfire heightens my senses as I move behind a wall for cover.

My bulletproof vest isn’t enough protection for a mad dash through this room while bullets are flying. My job isn’t to fire on these guys—my colleagues have that covered. I’m here to find the victim.

“Get back in here, you piece of shit,” another Phoenix officer shouts, hauling back a man trying to flee through a window by pulling on the belt fastened around the waist of his jeans.

I poke my head around a corner and it’s clear enough that I’m able to crawl to the hallway. There are four doors in the hallway, all closed. With a deep breath, I stand up and call out my arrival before opening the first one.

It’s a dimly lit bathroom, all but one bulb in the light fixture above the sink burned out. The smell of rubber draws my gaze to a trash can in the corner of the room, and my stomach turns at the sight of used condoms, some hanging over the edge of the can, others dropped on the dirty linoleum floor.

I repeat the process at the next door, which is a tiny bedroom with dirty clothes scattered over the stained carpet and the giant bed that nearly fills the room. Keeping my weapon aimed in front of me, I approach the double closet doors and lower one hand to the handle, opening it.

There are several guns, including a semi-automatic rifle, on a shelf. I also see a pile of cash, a bong and more dirty clothes. There’s no one in this room, so I move on.

At the next door, I announce myself and open the door. When I flip the light switch on the wall, I see that this room is a lot like the last one. Smelly, with dirty clothes piled in a corner. There’s an empty pizza box on the floor and empty alcohol bottles crowding a small table. The big bed has no sheets and a stained, sagging mattress. The one window has plywood nailed into its frame.

Gun leveled, I make my way around to the side of the bed. There’s only about a foot between the bed and the wall, and a girl is huddled in the corner there, hugging her knees to her chest and shaking.

I exhale hard, relieved she’s alive. Then I lower my weapon.

“My name is Reyna Diaz,” I say gently. “I’m a federal agent, and I’m here to help you.”

She lifts her head from her knees to peek up at me, her dark eyes filled with terror. I stay where I am, knowing from my training that any sudden movement or getting too close could scare her even more right now.

“We’re clear,” Adrian says over the radio. “Two suspects deceased, one in custody.”

Knowing it’s safe to holster my gun after getting the all clear, I do so. I make sure the girl can see my empty hands in front of me, and I repeat, “I’m here to help you. I’m a federal agent. Okay?”

She lifts her head higher and I get a better look at her face. I scroll through my mental rolodex of missing children cases, but I don’t recognize her. We got a lead on the dirtbags in this house from an undercover agent monitoring the internet. What they call “sex with young girls” I call rape and kidnapping.

“Are there any other children here?” I ask her.

She shrugs, and I radio Adrian to check the final door for me.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” I ask the girl, who looks maybe thirteen. “I have food if you’re hungry.”

I take a Snickers bar out of my pocket and her face lights up. I always bring a candy bar and some crackers to raids, because I learned the hard way that when I’m looking at a traumatized, hungry kid, it helps to have something to offer them.

“Do you have water?” she asks, her voice hoarse.

“I do.”

I push a button on my radio and speak into it. “I need a bottle of water left outside the second door on the left side of the hallway.”

“Want this, too?” I hold out the candy bar.

She nods, but doesn’t move.

“Is it okay if I come closer to give it to you?” I ask.

She eyes me skeptically. I reach for the badge hanging around my neck inside my vest, pull it out and show it to her, saying, “I’m a police officer. Agent Diaz. You can call me Reyna, though.”

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >56

Advertisement
Easy Read online Brenda Rothert (Chicago Blaze #6) http://www.ilovenovels.com/easy-6-read-online-brenda-rothert Tue, 05 Nov 2019 13:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/easy-6-read-online-brenda-rothert Genre: Romance, Sports Authors: Brenda Rothert Series: Chicago Blaze Series by Brenda Rothert
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 56134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >57

Read Online Books/Novels:	Easy (Chicago Blaze #6)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Brenda Rothert
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	B082QSCL63
Book Information:
Erik: Nothing rattles me. Well…almost nothing. As the most even-tempered player on the Chicago Blaze, I take everything in stride – hockey, fame and life in general. No one knows that deep down, even I’ve got a trigger. She’s a tall brunette with a gorgeous smile and an iron will. The woman who crushed my heart long ago. I never plan to return to Emery, Wisconsin and lay eyes on Allie Douglas again - until suddenly, I’m left without a choice. Allie: Somehow, I’m keeping it all together. Raising my nieces and nephew alone and working takes everything I’ve got and then some, but I get by. I don’t have time for love, and who needs a man, anyway? I gave up the love of my life a decade ago, and now he’s just a distant memory. Until one day, he comes back home. And once I see him, I’m not keeping it together anymore. Not even close.
Books in Series:	Chicago Blaze Series by Brenda Rothert
Books by Author:	Brenda Rothert

One

Easy

“How’s Jonah doing?”

My agent Jack tosses a baseball a few feet into the air and catches it, feet up on his desk as we finish up our meeting at his New York office.

“He’s good.”

“Gotta be hard on a goalie, ending the season that way,” Jack says.

Last week Jonah dove for a puck that was flying toward the goal with seconds left in the game. It got past him, ending our postseason run.

“We win together or we lose together,” I tell Jack. “If we’d been better offensively in that game, we would’ve been ahead at the end there.”

Jack nods. “He’s always been good at shaking off losses.”

“In terms of hockey, he’s the best at it.”

“Yeah, when I said losses, I didn’t mean…shit, it was a damn shame what happened to his wife. Does he date much?”

“Jonah?” I shrug. “Occasionally.”

Jack’s a good guy—he’s been my agent since I signed my first NHL contract eight years ago. But I don’t tell anyone personal shit about my teammates. Gossip’s thick enough around all of us as it is.

“You heading to Kauai on the big team trip?” Jack asks.

Most of our team’s already at the beach house my teammate Luca and his wife Abby own. It’s the way we always kick off our offseason break, and I hate that I’m missing it.

“Not this year, unfortunately. I passed because I was originally going to take my mom and aunt on a safari tour trip, but my aunt fell a couple weeks ago and fractured her hip, so we had to cancel.”

“Damn. She’s okay, though?”

“Oh yeah. My Aunt Jo will outlive us all.”

Jack grins. “Got an aunt like that myself.” He glances over at the computer screen on his desk. “So you’re in for the Yankees game tonight, right? I’ve got sweet box seats, and then we can check out this new club I’ve heard good things about.”

“Yeah, I’m game. My flight leaves at seven tomorrow morning, though.”

“No problem, I’ll make sure we stop partying by six.”

I laugh at that. Jack and I have had some epic nights out in New York City, even though I usually only come here about twice a year. He likes to wine and dine his clients, and given how much I pay him, I certainly don’t complain about it.

“I’m thirty now, man,” I say. “I feel it when I party all night long.”

“Feels like you’re not a pussy, right? Like you’re a man who appreciates all that life has given him and isn’t gonna squander it by going to bed early when he’s in the big city?”

I groan. “Feels more like someone ran me over with a truck, honestly.”

Jack takes his feet off his desk and turns to set the baseball back on the decorative stand on a bookcase behind his desk. “The truck of damn good times, bro. Nut up, we’re going out. We’ll have a good time. Plus, you’re a pussy magnet.”

“Oh, is that it?”

He stands up, shrugging. “I can’t tell you how many fucking times people have asked me if you’re related to that actor…Idris whatever his name is. Women see you coming and it’s like their legs just magically open up. That little hint of a French accent you’ve got doesn’t hurt a bit. Me, you, and a few Yankees players are going out tonight. I have the chance to wake up with multiple women in my bed tomorrow morning. This is a non-negotiable proposition my friend.”

I give in, not because of the partying, but because of the game. I’ve always loved major league baseball, and there’s nothing like seeing a game at Yankee Stadium.

“All right, man. But I’m gonna need to go back to my hotel and take a nap first. And can you arrange for my bags to be taken to the airport for me?”

Jack gives me a mock salute. “Done, sir. My loins thank you. They’re quivering in anticipation of finally getting some ass.”

“I don’t want to hear about your fucking loins, man.”

I shake my head as my phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull my phone out and go to answer it, but when I see my mom’s name on the screen, I groan. She’s trying to convince me to stay with her for a few weeks in Greentree Falls, Wisconsin. I’ve taken her and Aunt Jo on a trip during each offseason for seven years now, and when we had to cancel this year because of Aunt Jo’s fall, she told me I could come there instead.

But there’s no way I’m going to Greentree Falls. I’d rather spend a few weeks in any other town in the country—the world, even—than step foot back in that town.

“Excuse me,” I say to Jack, stepping into the hallway to take my mom’s call, answering it with my usual, “Hey, Mom, how are you?”

“I’ve been better,” she says weakly.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >57

Advertisement
Alexei Read online Brenda Rothert (Chicago Blaze #5) http://www.ilovenovels.com/alexei-5-read-online-brenda-rothert Mon, 07 Jan 2019 13:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/alexei-5-read-online-brenda-rothert Genre: Romance, Sports Authors: Brenda Rothert Series: Chicago Blaze Series by Brenda Rothert
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 53749 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 269(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 179(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >55

Read Online Books/Novels:	Alexei (Chicago Blaze #5)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Brenda Rothert
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	B07XF957VQ
Book Information:
Alexei I guess the party’s over—for now. When I wake up in the hospital after a DUI car crash, my new NHL team owner gives me an ultimatum – get sober or get packed for the minor leagues. So I talk the talk and go to rehab. I plan to breeze through, get sprung in 30 days or less and hit the road with my new team, the Chicago Blaze. All I have to do is charm my attractive, uptight rehab group leader into thinking I’ve changed—how hard could it be? Graysen I see right through Alexei Petrov. My calling to save addicts from themselves before they self-destruct is deeply personal. Alexei’s hot and successful, sure. But he’s not okay, and he’s got a lot of work to do before graduating from my group. No one’s ever tested my boundaries like he does, though. I fight my desire and keep things professional, because the stakes couldn’t be higher—it’s not just my job that’s on the line, but also his life. The deeper we fall, though, the more he makes me question the mantra I live by: never trust your heart to an addict.
Books in Series:	Chicago Blaze Series by Brenda Rothert
Books by Author:	Brenda Rothert Books

1

Alexei

I must have one hell of a hangover. My alarm sounds like it’s underwater and my eyelids feel like they’re covered in concrete.

I try to tune out the alarm blaring from my phone. When it doesn’t work, I try to reach over to my nightstand and grab the phone, but my arm won’t move any easier than my eyelids.

Maybe it’s not a hangover. Am I knocked out on the ice right now? They may have to cart me off with a stretcher because there’s no way I’m gonna be able to stand up. If Mason McAllister knocked me out, I’ll jump that fucker’s ass as soon as I can stand, though. He’s a winger for Toronto, and he’s had it out for me since he found out his sister took me home after a game up there last year.

“I volunteer to give him a bath,” a female voice says.

There’s a chuckle and another woman says, “Get in line.”

Well shit. Two female voices means this is the morning after a threesome, and from the way my head’s pounding right now, that’s two more women than I feel like dealing with right now.

I open my mouth to speak, but all I can get out is a grunt. And then, finally, after what feels like a fucking year, my eyes slowly crack open. The bright light shining in my face makes me squeeze them closed immediately.

“Well, hi there,” a woman says. “It’s good to see you awake.”

I force my eyelids open again, squinting at her. She’s middle-aged, with graying hair and a warm smile. I mean…she’s not unattractive, but she’s quite a bit older than I usually go for.

Fuck. I must’ve gotten really hammered last night. I hope I was good in bed.

When I try to sit up, I can hardly move. This is the worst hangover I’ve ever had. Maybe it’s alcohol poisoning. Or maybe someone slipped something in my drink and fucked me up. Whatever’s going on, I just want to get the hell out of here and go sleep this off at home. There’s no way I can make it to practice this morning.

“Go get Dr. Harvey,” the middle-aged woman says to the one next to her.

I notice they’re both wearing pale green pajama tops and pants, kind of like scrubs. It hits me all at once—I’m in a hospital. The beeping wasn’t from my alarm, but from the machines I’m hooked up to.

That’s all I can make out so far. And since I can’t remember how I got here, my first instinct is to frantically check and see if all my body parts are still attached. But I’m still so groggy and slow that nothing’s moving as fast as I want it to.

“Alexei, you’re at Austin Memorial Medical Center,” the woman left in the room says to me. “My name is Sherrie and I’m a nurse here.”

When I try to speak, my throat is so dry I can’t make the words come out. Sherrie holds a cup with a straw up to my mouth and I take a sip, clearing my throat.

“You were in a car accident,” Sherrie says. “You’ve been in a medically-induced coma for around seventy-two hours now. The doctors wanted to give your body time to rest.”

I clear my throat again, using all my energy to get two words out. “How…bad?”

Sherrie smiles. “I’ll let the doctor talk to you about that. Just try to relax for now.”

My hospital bed is stationed at a slight upward incline, and I turn my head to survey my surroundings. It’s a regular old hospital room, almost every surface either beige or white. There’s a dry erase board with my name written on the top in blue marker, and the date scrawled beneath it is four days after the last day I remember.

A tall doctor with short dark hair comes into the room.

“Alexei, I’m Dr. Harvey. How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” I admit.

“Yeah, that’s to be expected.” He pulls a stethoscope from around his neck. “I’m going to look you over and then we’ll talk about your injuries.”

He pokes and prods me, and it’s all I can do to keep my eyes open. Sherrie looks on from the foot of the bed, and I realize then that we’re the only three people in this room.

My twin brother Anton’s not here. Martin and Laura, my adoptive parents, aren’t either. My coaches and teammates are also conspicuously absent.

Does anyone even give a shit about me? I’ve been in a coma for three fucking days and no one’s here to see if I wake up or not.

Typical. Anton’s always been the golden boy and I’ve always been the fuck up.

A car accident…I don’t remember that. The last thing I remember is driving past a bunch of cows on my way home from a bar.

Dr. Harvey puts the stethoscope back around his neck and pulls a chair up beside the bed. Not a good sign.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >55

Advertisement
Knox Read online Brenda Rothert (Chicago Blaze #4) http://www.ilovenovels.com/knox-4-read-online-brenda-rothert Tue, 21 Aug 2018 01:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/knox-4-read-online-brenda-rothert Genre: Contemporary, Romance, Sports Authors: Brenda Rothert Series: Chicago Blaze Series by Brenda Rothert
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 57576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 288(@200wpm)___ 230(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >59

Read Online Books/Novels:	Knox (Chicago Blaze #4)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Brenda Rothert
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	B07VNNJZFR
Book Information:
Reese I’m done. Getting ditched at the altar is nothing compared to being humiliated there in front of three hundred shocked guests. Apparently I’m no good at spotting the signs your man’s a cheating liar. So I set off solo on my honeymoon to Hawaii, where I realize I’ve got this life thing down just fine on my own. Friendships and laughter? Yes. Adventures? Absolutely. But relationships? Hell no. Never again. Knox I’m a man of few words. My reputation as a moody prick is deserved, but only the handful of people who really know me see the man beneath the professional mask. I’m a protector. A warrior. That part is true. But the world doesn’t get to see the rest of me. And women don’t seem to mind my gruff exterior—my bed’s always warm. I’m content with life—loving it, even—or so I thought. But when I meet a beautiful pastry chef with a broken heart and a smile that softens me down to my soul, I realize I wasn’t really content at all before her. I only wish I had the words to let her know.
Books in Series:	Chicago Blaze Series by Brenda Rothert
Books by Author:	Brenda Rothert Books

Part 1

Chapter One

Reese

Finally.

Almost an entire year of planning falls into place as I approach my groom at the altar of a rustic-chic church outside Mendocino. Eric smiles nervously as my dad gives me a tender look and offers him my hand.

His blond hair is combed back neatly, and when I look at Eric, I still see the twenty-year-old I met in a college chemistry class almost nine years ago. It took a long time for him to take a forward leap into engagement and marriage, but we’re finally here.

“Dearly beloved,” the pastor begins, looking out at the guests in the pews—all two hundred and eighty-six of them.

At least, it better be two hundred and eighty-six. That’s how many I received RSVPs from. Some of Eric’s fraternity brothers have been known to bring multiple dates to weddings. Classy bunch, those guys.

The fresh, salty smell of the ocean breezes in through the open windows of the church. The crash of the surf is soft from in here, but it’s there, and it soothes me. I’ve always found solace in being near the water. I’m a California girl through and through.

Eric squeezes my hands and gives me another tense smile. It catches me off-guard, because I’m the one who’s been a nervous wreck in the weeks leading up to today. Eric is usually indifferent about these types of things to the point it can annoy me. Nothing’s a big deal to him. I guess we’re yin and yang that way, because I’m a major Type A planner.

I take a deep breath and give him a reassuring smile, silently telling him that once we get past the ceremony, the real fun begins. A huge tent is set up just a few hundred feet away, where our reception will be held with a stunning ocean view of the sunset.

Mrs. Eric Darnell. I’ve practiced saying it and writing it, but it doesn’t feel real. There’s a part of me that’s still scared, but this is the right thing. After nine years together, where else can our relationship go?

At the sound of a sniffle, I turn to my maid of honor, my best friend Mandy, who’s already crying. I never knew her to be such a softie. The ceremony hasn’t really even started yet. She takes a tissue out from around her bouquet and wipes the corners of her eyes.

“Before we begin the ceremony, let us pray,” the pastor says.

“Hang on,” Eric blurts out.

Did he just say hang on as our wedding ceremony was about to start? My heart skips several beats as I look around to see what’s going on. Is there a medical emergency? Why else would Eric go off script?

The pastor and I both stare at him as he closes his eyes and grimaces.

“I’m sorry,” he says, sighing as he opens his eyes and lets go of my hands.

As they drop to my sides, an icy shiver travels down my spine. He let go. I only asked him for one thing when we talked on the phone this morning, honoring the tradition of not seeing each other on our wedding day. Hold onto my hands the entire time.

The church is silent, everyone holding their breath as they wait for Eric to speak. My heart races and my hands start to shake as I realize something’s not right here.

“Reese.” Eric’s tone is both apologetic and pleading. “I need to tell you something. I want to go into this marriage with a clean conscience.”

I swallow back the bile that rises in my throat. This can’t be happening. In all my worst-case scenarios about what could go wrong on my wedding day, I never imagined this.

I worried I’d be having a heavy period today. That I’d trip on my way down the aisle and face plant in front of everyone. Or that the last week of stress eating would catch up with me and my dress wouldn’t zip.

But this? Never this.

Eric lets out a shaky breath and says, “Please forgive me. I did something so stupid.”

Mandy’s crying intensifies and deep down, I already know what he’s going to confess.

“Uh…” The pastor looks between me and Eric. “Do you two want to step out for a moment?”

“What did you do?” I ask Eric, my voice nearly a whisper.

The sound and scent of the ocean has vanished and all I feel is a creeping sense of complete dread.

“So now it was stupid?” Mandy demands loudly. “Eight months together and you’re saying it was a mistake?”

The guests collectively gasp.

As the truth sets in, I’m too stunned to even breathe. Eric. Fucked. Mandy. Not once, but a lot.

My grip loosens on my bouquet and it falls, making a rustling sound as it hits the ground.

“You…?” I look back and forth between Eric and Mandy, blinking away tears. “For eight months?”

“I’m so sorry,” Eric says, his voice breaking. “It was a huge mistake.”

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >59

Advertisement
Victor Read online Brenda Rothert (Chicago Blaze #3) http://www.ilovenovels.com/victor-3-read-online-brenda-rothert Wed, 02 May 2018 13:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/victor-3-read-online-brenda-rothert Genre: Contemporary, Romance, Sports, Suspense Authors: Brenda Rothert Series: Chicago Blaze Series by Brenda Rothert
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 59464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >60

Read Online Books/Novels:	Victor (Chicago Blaze #3)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Brenda Rothert
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	B07QWWMZ2L
Book Information:
He’s a hockey star with a headboard full of notches. She’s a shy NHL concession worker at who’s never been kissed. Lindy: They don’t call me Belinda Boring for nothing. It’s my name, after all. And for a 23-year-old with plain brown hair who still lives at home and gets tongue tied over nothing, it’s a fitting one. I’m not even one of those quiet girls with a hidden talent, unless making a mean order of nachos at the NHL arena I work at counts. My life consists of working, reading and harboring a secret crush on a hockey player who doesn’t know I exist. At least, until we accidentally meet and become unlikely friends. Victor: I’m living the dream. A poor kid who worked his way into the NHL, I’ll never forget where I came from, though I try to. My past follows me, a nagging reminder that I’ll never be what everyone thinks I am. As the threat of my secret being exposed looms closer, my game slips, leaving me in danger of being cut from my team--the only family I have. I’m losing my hold on everything when a new friend helps me find hope. She’s nothing like the women I’m used to, but by the time I figure out that’s exactly why she’s right for me, I’ve lost my chance with her. Somehow, I have to convince a woman who thinks she’s invisible that she’s the only one I see.
Books in Series:	Chicago Blaze Series by Brenda Rothert
Books by Author:	Brenda Rothert Books

Chapter One

Lindy

I groan softly as I peer inside the old washing machine in the basement of the Carson Center. The cleaning rags I planned to put in the dryer are floating in a giant tub full of water. This place is home to the best pro hockey team in the world, but the brass won’t spring for a decent washing machine.

And today, that’s a big problem, because with the ICEE machine on the fritz, we’re going to have a lot of messes. Submitting a work order to have equipment fixed around here is a thing, and in the meantime, we concession stand workers are stuck using cheap napkins to clean everything.

My dad’s a plumber, and I’ve learned a few things from him over the years. If the issue is a quick fix, I might be able to handle it.

It takes me a little while to remove the front panel from the washer. I have to bend down and remove the screws from the bottom corners in front of the washer and pull the panel down and out towards me. I set it aside and get down on the floor to, as my dad would say, assess the situation. The floor is dirty, but I’m off in less than an hour, so it doesn’t really matter.

“Aha,” I say to myself as I find the problem.

The drain hose isn’t fully connected to the drainpipe. As I spend the next few minutes reconnecting the hose to the pipe, the hose material leaves a chalky film on my hands. After I’m done, I replace the washing machine panel, wash my hands in the ancient mop sink in the corner of the basement storage room, then wring out each cleaning cloth and toss them into the dryer.

Once done, I set the washer to a quick rinse cycle to drain the water from the tub and then head back to the service elevator.

The Carson Center is massive, and things have been moved around since it was built thirty years ago. Once I get off the elevator, it’s a hike from the storage room back to the main concession area.

There’s a staff meeting going on in the employee break room, and I plan to sneak in unnoticed. But as soon as I walk in, my boss Bruce gives me a disapproving frown.

“Boring,” he says sternly. “You’re late.”

I hate—actually, it’s more like loathe—the way Bruce calls all the employees by our last names, like we’re in the military or something. Because in my case, there are inevitably snickers about my last name, which is an unfortunate one for a woman who is, in every way, ordinary.

“Sorry,” I say, my cheeks warming from the stares of my coworkers.

“How long have you worked here, Boring?” Bruce crosses his arms only to rest them on his ample belly.

I glance at the wall clock. I’m not even four minutes late, and he’s going to make it an issue. Sighing inwardly, I say, “Three years.”

“And for three years, what time have I held our weekly staff meeting?”

“Four-thirty.”

Arching his brows, he nods, his expression loaded with condescension. And just when I think he’s had enough of showing us all who’s boss, he keeps going.

“Were you on a smoke break?”

“No.” I furrow my brow, confused. “I don’t smoke.”

“Using your cell phone?”

My friend Ariana sighs audibly, drawing a sharp look from Bruce. I clear my throat, eager to defuse the situation before Ariana says something that will get her written up.

“I was fixing the washing machine,” I say quickly. “And wringing out the cleaning rags so we’ll have some tonight since the ICEE machine is broken.”

Bruce’s eyes widen and his lips part. His expression is nothing short of amused.

“Fixing the washing machine? Who authorized you to do that?”

I freeze, wishing I was quick and clever like Ari. “Um…”

“What’s a nineteen-year-old girl know about fixing washing machines?” Bruce continues, scoffing.

I’m twenty-three, but I don’t dare correct him.

“She knows more than the rest of us,” Ari says defensively. “Her dad’s a plumber.”

Bruce ignores her, keeping his glare focused on me. His frown is so pronounced that it disappears beneath his bushy brown mustache.

“We call them cleaning towels, not rags, Boring,” he says. “And the ICEE machine is fixed.”

“No, it’s not,” Ari says, shaking her head. Several of my coworkers murmur their agreement.

Bruce turns to face Ari and I let out a small exhale of relief.

“I closed out that work order, Gonzales,” he says to her. “It’s fixed.”

“No, it still doesn’t stop when it’s supposed to.”

Bruce points at the name tag on his chest. “You see the word ‘manager’ right here, Gonzales? It means the repair and replacement of equipment around here is my job, not yours. You just stick to making the ICEEs.”

Ari opens her mouth just as I meet her eyes from across the room. She’s got a young son to support; she needs this job. And she’s the best friend I have here. Or anywhere, really. I don’t want her getting fired over Bruce’s fragile ego.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >60

Advertisement
Luca Read online Brenda Rothert (Chicago Blaze #2) http://www.ilovenovels.com/luca-2-read-online-brenda-rothert Tue, 30 Jan 2018 01:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/luca-2-read-online-brenda-rothert Genre: Contemporary, Romance, Sports Authors: Brenda Rothert Series: Chicago Blaze Series by Brenda Rothert
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 61705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >63

Read Online Books/Novels:	Luca (Chicago Blaze #2)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Brenda Rothert
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	B07ND85CWV
Book Information:
Abby: I only have one love now—the home furnishings business I’m building into an empire. Maybe money and success can’t love me back, but they keep what’s left of my heart safe. One-night stands are my way of scratching the occasional itch I get for something more. And no one’s better for that than a sexy as sin hockey player I’ll never see again after one very hot night together. Luca: I used to love two things: hockey and women. But now my nieces and nephew are my top priority, because I’m raising them after tragedy stole their parents. Somehow I balance single parenthood and my career as a forward for the Chicago Blaze. There’s no time for women, until I get knocked on my ass by Abby Daniels. She’s everything I’ve ever wanted, but her devastating past may end us before we even get started.
Books in Series:	Chicago Blaze Series by Brenda Rothert
Books by Author:	Brenda Rothert Books

Chapter One

Abby

I wouldn’t even need a sledgehammer to pound my alarm clock into hundreds of pieces right now—I could do it with my bare hands. My subconscious is ready to go full-out Office Space on the black box blaring the rhythmic, shrill buzz on the other side of my bedroom.

After pulling myself out of bed, I absently push the tangle of long blond hair out of my face and then stumble across the room to silence the alarm. I pause in front of the dark wood dresser the clock sits on, gathering myself. I’m still so tired.

It’s like this most mornings. Occasionally, I wake without the dull pounding in my head that’s my body’s way of saying four or five hours of sleep isn’t enough. But most days, it’s there. I don’t mind it, though. As long as that groggy, achy feeling is there, I know I’ve slept enough to make it through the day, but not enough to have nightmares. Or even dreams. For nearly three years, they’ve been one and the same, anyway—unbearable.

I make a quick trip to the bathroom and then head to the kitchen, where a full pot of coffee is waiting for me. Coffee pot timers—best invention ever.

Every day at 3:52 a.m., I pick up a mug of coffee and down half of it. I get just enough caffeine to make the pounding in my head stop. Then I go to the walk-in closet in my bedroom and dress in a sports bra, leggings, a t-shirt, socks and my workout shoes. I pull my hair into a ponytail, grab my gym bag, ride the elevator in my building down to the opulent, marble-floored lobby, and say good morning to whichever doorman is working.

Monday through Friday, it’s Chase. Saturdays, it’s Larry. And Sundays, it’s Diana. The faces may change, but every morning, I walk through the open door and get into a waiting SUV at 4:06 a.m.

“Morning, Ms. Daniels,” my driver says.

“Good morning, Ben. How are you?”

“Can’t complain, ma’am.”

Even in Manhattan, traffic is light at this hour, and he pulls the SUV out into the driving lane with no wait. Just like every day. This is our usual conversation, and I know it’s over now, so I take my phone out of my gym bag and open my email.

Unless there’s something urgent happening at work, I stop checking email at 10:00 p.m. every night. But with time zone differences, I always have new emails waiting.

I forward a few to my assistant, respond to a couple and save the rest for later, smiling over one with the subject line, “Chicago Clusterfuck.” I hired an experienced project manager to oversee the expansion of my company into the Chicago market, and he’s always blunt. The challenges we’re facing with the three stores we’re building in that market are mostly political—zoning and design spec issues. That’s why I’m heading back there again today. Stephen is a very capable project manager, but I like to have a hand in every aspect of my company. That’s how I’ve built Cypress Lane into one of the most successful home furnishings businesses in the industry in less than three years.

Twenty-nine and on top of the world, the headline on the cover story in a prominent business magazine said of me.

I am twenty-nine years old, they got that part right. But I’m far from on top of the world. More like treading water in the world’s deepest, most remote ocean. I do that very well, though.

Ben drops me off at the door of my gym, where the faithfully fit crowd I see every morning is already pushing weight bars and cranking up the speed on treadmills.

“Morning, sunshine,” my trainer Percy says as I approach a mat in the corner of the gym.

“Morning,” I mutter back.

She passes me a tall, stainless steel bottle filled with ice and water. Automatically, I take a long sip.

“You look exhausted, Abby.” Percy narrows her brow and glares at me.

“Good thing I’m not paying you to tell me how I look,” I grumble.

She sighs and crosses her arms. “How many times do I have to tell you fitness isn’t just physical? You won’t get results if you don’t commit body, mind and soul.”

We’ve had this conversation a few times in the six months I’ve been training with Percy, a former Olympic runner. And every time, it grates on my nerves.

“My work is demanding,” I say defensively.

“Sometimes you have to silence the demands to take care of yourself.”

I remind myself she means well. Percy is a stunning woman with flawless deep mocha skin, short braids and golden-brown eyes. Add in her lean, gorgeous body and she could easily make her living modeling or doing motivational speaking. But training is her passion. Even with my ability to pay her whatever fee she demanded, it was damn hard to get a private training spot with her.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >63

Advertisement
Anton Read Online Brenda Rothert (Chicago Blaze #1) http://www.ilovenovels.com/anton-1-read-online-brenda-rothert Wed, 15 Nov 2017 01:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/anton-1-read-online-brenda-rothert Genre: Contemporary, Romance, Sports Authors: Brenda Rothert Series: Chicago Blaze Series by Brenda Rothert
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 60948 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >62

Read Online Books/Novels:	Anton (Chicago Blaze #1)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Brenda Rothert
Language:	English
Book Information:
He’s known as Father Anton to his teammates—the brooding, sexy captain of the NHL’s Chicago Blaze has a reputation for…not having a reputation. Just like his diet and sleep routines, celibacy is part of Anton Petrov’s on-ice mojo. Or so they say. Anton stays mum on the subject. If the world thinks he chooses to abstain from sex, so be it. Better that than the truth getting out: there is a woman he burns for, but he can never have her. She’s his teammate’s wife, after all. Mia Marceau is finally on her own. Now that she and her husband are living apart, she’s finding the peace she was desperate for. She spends her days in classes and late nights bartending, making her own way in the world at last. After what she’s been through, as long as her husband leaves her alone, she doesn’t plan to rock the boat. He still has the power to hurt those dearest to her, and she can’t demand a divorce with such a high cost. A chance encounter with Mia has Anton hoping for a shot he never thought he’d get. And while she’s drawn to the intense, serious hockey center, Mia’s leery about playing with fire. That’s all Anton has ever known for Mia, though—a living, burning desire that won’t be denied—no matter the cost.
Books in Series:	Chicago Blaze Series by Brenda Rothert
Books by Author:	Brenda Rothert Books

Chapter One

“Whas’ good here, doll? Sides you, a course.” A drunken customer leers at my tits as he slurs his words.

“The water’s delicious,” I respond.

He cackles and leans over the bar. “Gimme ‘nother Mich Ultra.”

“Another pussy beer, comin’ up.” I grin at him.

He lowers his brows. “What’d you say?”

“I said coming right up.”

“Mia, I need that mojito!” yells Lana, a waitress at Lucky Seven, the bar I’m tending singlehandedly on a busy Friday night.

I ignore her and get the Mich Ultra. I always serve my customers first, because they’re tipping me, not their waitress. Lana’s a bitch, anyway, and mojitos take forever to make.

After filling two more orders, I start the mojito. I’m crushing the mint when a loud wave of laughter pours into the already loud bar, bringing with it a burst of chilly November air as the door is held open for a dozen women to walk in.

It’s a bachelorette party, the bride decked out in a crown of bows and a hot pink boa. I can’t help smiling at the look of absolute joy on her face. It reminds me of the way I felt before my own wedding eight years ago. Little did I know then what I huge mistake I was about to make.

A fresh-faced woman from the party approaches the bar and asks for ten shots of Fireball. When she reaches into her purse, I stop her.

“First round’s free for bachelorette parties,” I say.

“Are you serious?”

“Yep.”

“Oh my God, that’s so nice!”

I just smile because I can’t tell her the real reason the owner of the bar, Janice, gives the first round free to bachelorette parties. Janice was the seventh wife of Mike McGill, an obnoxious dick who owned a sports bar in the south side of Chicago called The Penalty Box. I never knew him, but from what I’ve heard, he regularly beat the shit out of her. When he dropped dead of a heart attack, Janice burned all his prized sports memorabilia and renamed the bar Lucky Seven. Janice says the least she can do for a woman about to get shackled to a man is give her a free drink. Can’t say I disagree.

“Hey, can I get some service?” a woman yells from the end of the bar.

I look up and then walk in the other direction to help someone else, because fuck her. Janice told me on my first day here eight months ago that she wanted me to be salty. Pushover bartenders lose her money, she said. And again—works for me. Nothing turns my stomach like letting someone walk all over me. My husband has done enough of that to leave me feeling ground into the dirt.

As soon as two people get up from their seats at the bar, a tall man in a suit grabs the back of one and pulls it out. A pretty brunette slides onto the seat and he hangs her coat on the back of her chair before sitting down himself.

“What can I get you guys?” I ask them.

“What would you like, babe?” he asks her, his eyes warm.

As she thinks about what she wants to order, I look at them both during the few seconds of silence. He’s handsome—clean-shaven with short blond hair and crinkles at the corners of his eyes. She sits close to him, her dark hair over one shoulder.

“I’ll have a margarita, please,” she says. “On the rocks.”

“Guinness for me,” the man says.

I nod and as I’m turning to fill the order, she leans over to kiss his cheek. They seem so happy. He seems thoughtful. I’m guessing they haven’t been together very long.

I’m working from 6:00 p.m. to 2:00 a.m. tonight. At ten o’clock on the dot, Janice comes out from her office in the back and joins me behind the bar.

“Take a break,” she says, pulling up the sleeves of her shirt.

“You sure? I’m slammed.”

“I’ve got it.”

“Damn, girl.” A male voice says from the other side of the bar. “You’re like a fresh Oreo cookie, ain’t ya? Double stuffed.” He eyes my tits and grins.

Being biracial, I’ve heard all types of words meant to denote my skin tone, even if in this case he’s commenting about my breasts more so than my mixed skin tone—a combination of black and white.

I’m damn proud of my heritage though and as I’m about to tell him to fuck off, my boss beats me to it.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Janice demands, eyes narrowed. “Get your ass out of my bar!”

He draws back, shocked by her reaction. “Hey, I didn’t mean—”

“Well then you shouldn’t have opened your redneck mouth! You’ve got ten seconds to move your ass before I grab my shotgun.”

His mouth drops open and he takes off. Janice shakes her head.

“Prick,” she mutters.

I know better than to thank her. I have before, and she silenced me with a sharp comment every time.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >62

Read Online Books/Novels:

Olivier (Chicago Blaze #9)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

English

B08R6FPG8T

Read Online Books/Novels:

Kit (Chicago Blaze #8)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

English

B08DC1KLLG

Read Online Books/Novels:

Jonah (Chicago Blaze #7)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

English

B08548KZJ5

Read Online Books/Novels:

Easy (Chicago Blaze #6)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

English

B082QSCL63

Read Online Books/Novels:

Alexei (Chicago Blaze #5)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

English

B07XF957VQ

Read Online Books/Novels:

Knox (Chicago Blaze #4)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

English

B07VNNJZFR

Read Online Books/Novels:

Victor (Chicago Blaze #3)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

English

B07QWWMZ2L

Read Online Books/Novels:

Luca (Chicago Blaze #2)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

English

B07ND85CWV

Read Online Books/Novels:

Anton (Chicago Blaze #1)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

English