Not all marriages last forever!Suzanne Jefferson is broke, which is why she's given up charity work for wedding planning. Fortunately, she has a high-profile client,and best of all, he's paid in advance. There are just two teensy problems: The bride is a bona fide bridezilla, and Suzanne's ex-husband is the best man. At least she thought he was her ex-husband!
But this one might...
Two years after their marriage fell apart, stock car race driver Ryder Jefferson still can't stop thinking about Suzanne. Which is why he isn't too upset that, due to a glitch, the two are still technically married. Now he's imagining easing Suzanne's woes by satisfying her needs in the bedroom. After all, that's the one room they never argued in. Besides, with wedding bells ringing all around them, Ryder is wondering if,even though they'd quit the race a few laps too early,they can still come on strong with a big, romantic finish!
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Excerpt:
Suzanne hustled to the door and opened it. She blinked to see Elec and Evan Monroe, Ty McCordle, and right in front, her gorgeous and annoying ex-husband, Ryder Jefferson.
“Hey guys, what’s up? I’m kind of busy at the moment.”
“We’re here for the wedding planning thing,” Ty told her.
Oh, no. That meant that Nikki’s fiancé Jonas had asked them…
“We’re the groomsmen.”
Damn. Just what she needed. None of them would listen or take her seriously. She’d lose control of the whole situation.
Ryder brushed past her, dropping a soft kiss on her cheek, his familiar cologne wafting up her nostrils, and acting like a sexual trigger. She smelled Ryder, her nipples got hard. They were just trained that way.
“Good to see you, babe. And lucky me, I’m the best man in this wedding.”
Suzanne fought the urge to grimace. Good God, this fiasco just got more and more ludicrous. Now she was going to have to spend a fair amount of time around Ryder for the next month, and she just couldn’t deal with that on top of all her worrying about her future. He made her crazy, plain and simple.
And there was no way this best man was sitting on her lap.
Ryder handed her a manila envelope. “Oh, and this came addressed to both of us. It’s from our divorce lawyer.”
Suzanne looked at it blankly. It did have their divorce attorney’s name on the envelope, and it was addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Ryder and Suzanne Jefferson. Ouch. It had been a long time since she’d seen her name linked with his, and damn it, it still hurt, which pissed her off. It didn’t matter anymore, shouldn’t matter. “What is it?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t open it. Figured you’d want it.” He moved past her and the other guys did likewise.
Jonas Strickland was coming up her walk and there was a gaggle of Nikki clones behind him, women in their early twenties, tanned and thin and indistinguishable from each other except for the color of their various sweaters. There was red and yellow and aqua and two in white.
“Hi, come on in. I’m Suzanne,” she said absently. “Nikki’s in the dining room.”
Curiosity killing her, Suzanne ripped open the envelope as she walked behind them, their giggles and chatter a buzzing backdrop. There was a pile of papers that looked like their divorce decree. Okay. She read the cover letter from the lawyer.
And stopped halfway down her hallway, the words blurring in front of her.
Oh. My. God.
She was going to kill Ryder. She was going to rip his arm off and beat him with the bloody stump.
This paper was telling her she and Ryder were not divorced.
They were still married.
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