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Baiting Him (How to Catch an Alpha #2)
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1542010217 (ISBN13: 9781542010214)
From New York Times bestselling author Aurora Rose Reynolds comes the second book in the steamy, witty, and hilarious How to Catch an Alpha series.
Chrissie doesn’t have time for guys, hot or otherwise; most days, she barely has time to sleep. With a thriving bakery that demands her attention and plenty of proof that relationships aren’t worth the trouble, she’s content to go it alone. Too bad she’s unwittingly baited Mr. Tall, Dark, and Way Too Gorgeous—and he’s just waiting for a chance to bite.
Gaston is used to getting what he wants, but he also knows nothing good ever comes easy. From the moment he meets Chrissie, he realizes that this woman who makes him laugh, smells like cupcakes, and looks like a tasty snack is going to be his greatest challenge. And if he’s lucky, she’ll be his biggest reward.
But someone else wants to catch Gaston at all costs—even if it means endangering the lives of the people he loves. Somehow Gaston must thwart danger and convince Chrissie that he’s the perfect catch.
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LEAVE HIM WANTING MORE
“I’m so happy for you, Leah,” I tell my best friend while accepting two shot glasses from the waitress.
“I still can’t believe I’m actually getting married, Chrissie.” She shakes her head, making her dark hair appear to shimmer in the flashing lights, and her blue eyes brighten with happiness as she holds out her hand to look at the large diamond on her ring finger.
She might not be able to believe that she’s getting married, but I can. I knew the moment I saw Tyler and her together for the first time that there was something special between them. I couldn’t be happier for her, especially after witnessing firsthand some of her previous disastrous relationships.
“Here’s to your happily ever after.” I raise my shot glass toward her.
She holds up hers in return and smiles. “And here’s to you finding yours.”
I smile, too, even though I doubt love is in the cards for me. I could blame my lack of enthusiasm for finding love on men in general being jerks—which, more often than not, they are—but I’m mostly to blame. I work all the time and rarely have time to myself; plus, I don’t put a lot of effort into meeting men. Whenever I have a free moment, I use that time wisely to sleep instead of scanning dating sites and going out. Thinking about it now, I don’t remember the last time I went out on a real date. Unless you consider meeting up with someone for a quick coffee in the middle of the day a date.
“Are you two going to sit in this corner all night and chat, or are you actually going to join the bachelorette party?” our friend Ivy asks, glancing between Leah and me.
“Sorry, we were having a moment.” Leah laughs, and I giggle.
Ivy rolls her eyes at the two of us, then holds out her hand. “Have your moment later. Let’s go dance.” As soon as Leah places her hand in Ivy’s, she drags her up off the couch and pulls her out onto the dance floor.
Even in the large crowd of dancing people, I have no problem spotting all the girls we came here with tonight. Just like me, they’re wearing flashing penis necklaces and penis earrings. We look ridiculous, but as Leah’s maid of honor, I wanted to give her the full bride-to-be experience, including lots of penises and a sash with bold lettering that says SAME PENIS FOREVER. Maybe the sash was overkill, but whatever; it made her soon-to-be-husband grin and her crack up when I put it on her.
While everyone’s on the dance floor, I get up from the couch and look for the sign for the restroom, which is located in the rear of the club. I wobble in that direction, a little unsteady on my feet from the alcohol I’ve consumed. Thank goodness Tyler agreed to be our designated driver and pick us up whenever we’re ready to leave.
After standing in line for at least twenty minutes, I sigh. Every woman in the place seems to be waiting to go to the restroom, and the longer I stand there, the more urgent my need becomes. I spot the men’s restroom a little farther down the hall, and of course there’s no line. I watch the door closely and notice that every guy who goes in seems to come out within a few minutes.
Screw it, I tell myself and head down the hall. When the last guy I saw go in exits, I step inside and rush across the empty room to one of the stalls. I pee quickly while listening for the sound of the door opening and make sure the coast is clear before leaving the stall to wash my hands.
Just as I’m reaching for a paper towel, the door opens. I turn to apologize for invading the men’s room, but the words get stuck on my tongue because the most attractive man I’ve ever seen enters. I blink, wondering if he’s a figment of my imagination or if I’m dreaming, because there is no way he’s real. He’s so tall his head is just a few inches from the top of the doorway, and his shoulders are so broad they seem to fill the space.
He frowns at me, causing his dark brows to knit together over his green eyes. Then he looks around as if to make sure he’s not in the women’s room, giving me a side view of his sharply angled jaw.
“You’re not in the wrong place. I am,” I assure him, and his gaze returns to me. “The line for the ladies’ room was long, so I snuck in here when it was empty.”
“Are you finished, or do you need me to guard the door?” he asks, seeming genuine, which is surprising, coming from a guy who looks like he does.