Versions by Megan Mitcham (Base Branch #7)
Publication date: August 9, 2016
Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense
The truth doesn’t have versions. Or does it?
Rin Lee covered her childhood in dirt and danced on its grave. Only she pranced a little too hard and spent her young-adult life tiptoeing the straight and narrow. Things finally paid off in the form of a job with the Department of Defense, a home of her own, and a boyfriend muscled enough he put Zach Efron to shame. Until one text reveals a hideous truth that splinters her world.
Suddenly she can’t trust Nate or their surrogate family of friends. Can she possibly trust Luck—the man who mirrors her soul, scares her beyond the neat confines she’s erected around herself, and makes her scrutinize the versions she’s always been too angry to see?
Luck turned to the streets out of necessity, while Rin slapped on blinders and ignored those willing to help her. A stupid move for a sultry young woman. But the skills she learned in the rough and tumble underbelly of DC will serve his latest assignment well. Because people like them have the instinct to survive.
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“Evening, gentlemen. Ladies.” The silken honey of the unfamiliar voice coated her nakedness in a soothing balm. The waiter cleared his throat. The low rumble vibrated very near her ear. “What can I get you, miss?”
She canted her head in his direction. Surprise smacked her square in the face. Smoldering bedroom eyes gazed into hers. The crystal blue orbs pierced through a strong brow and straight into her soul. Rin stepped back, stumbling over Nate’s feet. A thud sounded her landing against her boyfriend’s hard chest.
“Whoa, there,” the waiter said, maintaining an invisible grip on Rin that made it impossible to look away.
Blond hair only a shade darker than her own sat in disarray across his forehead, but was shorn close around his ears. The hint of a beard hugged the strongest jaw she’d ever seen. Lips the perfect shape and fullness for hours and hours of kissing would have softened the blow his appearance delivered, if he’d only smile.
“You startled me,” she said by way of explanation for her odd behavior.
“Wasn’t my intention.” He said the words, but his head ticked to the side and his eyes flared in a way that opposed them.
“What’s your name, gorgeous?” Jen asked.
“Call me Luck,” the waiter said, holding Rin’s befuddled gaze.
Nate steadied her and shifted to place himself between her and the…her and Luck, but a massive party of suits poured in to their left. They crowded the walkway with banter and briefcases. The man screwing with her head—more than her shrink ever had—could have stepped to the side of the table toward Zach. Instead, he stepped forward, crowding her with his sharply muscled chest tucked neatly into a waiter’s white button down. Chiseled forearms and lightly sun-kissed skin shown at his rolled sleeves.
Whether someone shoved him or he took a dive she wasn’t sure, but his sinewy chest suddenly plastered her front. One arm wrapped around her waist, catching her in a subtle dip. His other shot out to the chair back to steady them. She swore she heard Gregory moan. Luck’s muscles in action did something sinful to her psyche.
“Jackass, I’m not into threesomes,” Nate blustered just behind her head. She’d see him, if she’d tear her gaze off Luck. But she couldn’t.
Luck lifted his heavy blue gaze from her for the first time and squared it on Nate. “Me neither.”
Until that moment, she’d been sure Nate could have defended her honor or his ego against any man. He probably outweighed Luck by fifty muscle-dense pounds. Luck had a foot of height on him, but his calm voice and confident demeanor had her more than second guessing the outcome. Then again, Nate had a gun.
For the oddest reason, she didn’t think that would matter if the two got into it.
“Luck,” Rin said, “how about you tip a girl upright and bring her a Peroni, a glass of Casarena cabernet, a Goose Island, a Bourbon Spice Rack, and a Hot Delilah…make that two Delilah’s.” The first impression of a smile lightened the corner of his mouth. He straightened and released her, his hand sweeping firmly over the sway of her waist. The touch lingered for far too long. “Anyone else feeling a double?”
About the Author
USA Today bestselling author Megan Mitcham was born and raised among the live oaks and shrimp boats of the Mississippi Gulf Coast, where her enormous family still calls home. She attended college at the University of Southern Mississippi where she received a bachelor’s degree in curriculum, instruction, and special education. For several years Megan worked as a teacher in Mississippi. She married and moved to South Carolina and worked for an international non-profit organization as an instructor and co-director.
In 2009 Megan fell in love with books. Until then, books had been a source for research or the topic of tests. But one day she read Mercy by Julie Garwood. And Oh Mercy, she was hooked!
Megan lives in Southern Arkansas where she pens sizzling suspense novels. Follow her on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest & Goodreads. For news, giveaways, and exclusive offers sign up for her newsletter at www.meganmitcham.com!
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