Mission For Love by M.C. Cerny
Series: Love by Design #6
Publication date: August 25th, 2020
Cover Design: Amy Queau from QDesigns
Synopsis:
For Kiara Roberts, cancer was a bitch. It took her teenage years, her shot at the Olympic team, and her leg. She was not letting it take her new job as the high school track coach and health educator. Sketchy test results put her patience on edge and made it a struggle to keep pushing forward. She needed a night of dancing, drinking, and fun with her friends to mark a new beginning, no matter what the future held.
Coming home was supposed to be a relief for Army Specialist David Easton. He served his country and after months of rehab, the PTSD remained unbearable. Drinking wasn't the answer, nor was co-owning the family bar with his brother. Getting the job at his old high school was manageable and put his family at ease giving the illusion that life was back to normal. It was anything but, and the movement he spotted Kiara across a crowded dance floor during the lowest point in his life everything changed.
Kiara wasn't attracted to jarheads. She didn't have room in her life for players no matter how sexy and sweet they seemed. So why was David Easton showing up everywhere? There was no escaping him, and her only option left might be surrender.
Book six in the Love By Design series of contemporary romantic comedies.
Mission For Love is written to be read as a standalone, but many readers prefer to read the series in order.
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Excerpt
Kiara Roberts. Gorgeous. Legs for miles. A high school health and gym teacher at the same school I happened to be recently employed at. What were the odds? I'll tell you what they were, at least a twenty percent chance we'd meet at a bar and a little more than thirty percent we'd meet in the workplace or through mutual friends. Compound those odds and there was a good chance I was losing my fucking mind.
Never in a million years after Saturday night's love connection followed by amazing dry humping, stocking ripping, full on sex with a goddess did I imagine this as my Monday morning walkthrough. It was a new low for at least one of the Easton brothers for sure. My mouth was parched for more tequila to drown my sorrows or at the very least numb my raging headache. Unfortunately, I had to settle for an apple because the staff meeting room was down a vending machine to parch my thirst.
It was a good thing I liked apples.
I really like women with dark ringlets of wild hair and soulful eyes, but she wouldn't even acknowledge me or the mutual shock we had to have been feeling. I would have settled for the awkward, "Ha Ha, fancy meeting you here," and then we politely moved on--except, I wasn't over her. Not by a long shot. I was only beginning to get on to her, into her. She was in my blood and soul. One night was all it took and I was acting like an idiot. Fool that I was, I couldn't let that go. My dick refused to get the message. My heart still pounded in her direction, and even my head was willing to forgive and forget feeling a little used after her disappearing act.
My fingers flew over my laptop keyboard composing three emails to start. I deleted them all and settled for a generic explanation of my role sort and pressed send on the email feeling a little pissed that this was how I found my mystery hookup again.
In my opinion, Supergirl had a lot of work to do despite saving the world. I was irritated she left without a word and I woke up in my apartment alone. She snuck out, locking me inside, snug as a bug. Not that it mattered much considering I kept a gun in my nightstand out of habit. I lived in a full house situation with my brother upstairs and our barmaid down the hall. My irritation came from the game she played clearly avoiding me if the shocked look on her face was anything to go by. She had no intention of calling me again and while I guessed I should have been fine with the one time deal I typically went for, this was different. She made me feel something and then she snatched it back and I had no say in the matter.
Loss of control made me nuts.
The clock ticked out five minutes as I waited for her reply curious how she would handle this. Would she pretend to not know me? Would she come clean, or tell me I was being a creepy ass stalker? I had no idea how to read this woman other than I already knew she was a fountain of secrets.
My email dinged.
Mr. Easton,
I thank you for your prompt investigation into my computer situation. However, I like my desktop just fine as it stands. No need to change or upgrade anything. I will let you know if I change my mind.
Sincerely,
Kiara Roberts
Physical Education Instructor
Varsity Girls Track Coach
Assistant Girls Cross Country Coach
Well that was quick and to the point. Unfortunately, I wasn't exactly pushing the double-entendres here. I actually did need to upgrade her computer. This wasn't a coy attempt to slide into her DMs or install some adware on her computer for spying and keyboard strokes. This was a legitimate need and not only was she denying me, she was preventing me from advancing my workload and the type A in me was not having it on a Monday.
Kiara,
I wasn't asking. I'm doing a full upgrade for the district and your firewall has been lagging since the last update, sometime in the prehistoric era. Will sixth or seventh period work for you?
David
Okay. Admittedly I was being a bit of a dick. The upgrade could totally wait, but I just had to know what the hell I had done to scare her off on Saturday night. She was into everything we did and I thought I read the signs right even asking her if this was what she wanted. I was only making myself aggravated by letting it ruminate.
We had to work together professionally and I could do that, but I still missed the woman I met over the weekend. I checked my watch, no response yet. Where did she go underneath her buttoned up blouse, slim pants, and cardigan? Did she at least have panties that were worthy of ripping off underneath her conservative clothes? I felt a burning desire to find out and I didn't like the quandary it presented me with.
My email dinging and I almost sent the apple on my desk sailing across the room checking the screen.
Seventh Period.
That was all I got. Two words. Probably the briefest brush off in the history of brush offs. If that wasn't a pissed off woman I didn't know what was, but at least she gave me a time that worked.
Never in a million years after Saturday night's love connection followed by amazing dry humping, stocking ripping, full on sex with a goddess did I imagine this as my Monday morning walkthrough. It was a new low for at least one of the Easton brothers for sure. My mouth was parched for more tequila to drown my sorrows or at the very least numb my raging headache. Unfortunately, I had to settle for an apple because the staff meeting room was down a vending machine to parch my thirst.
It was a good thing I liked apples.
I really like women with dark ringlets of wild hair and soulful eyes, but she wouldn't even acknowledge me or the mutual shock we had to have been feeling. I would have settled for the awkward, "Ha Ha, fancy meeting you here," and then we politely moved on--except, I wasn't over her. Not by a long shot. I was only beginning to get on to her, into her. She was in my blood and soul. One night was all it took and I was acting like an idiot. Fool that I was, I couldn't let that go. My dick refused to get the message. My heart still pounded in her direction, and even my head was willing to forgive and forget feeling a little used after her disappearing act.
My fingers flew over my laptop keyboard composing three emails to start. I deleted them all and settled for a generic explanation of my role sort and pressed send on the email feeling a little pissed that this was how I found my mystery hookup again.
In my opinion, Supergirl had a lot of work to do despite saving the world. I was irritated she left without a word and I woke up in my apartment alone. She snuck out, locking me inside, snug as a bug. Not that it mattered much considering I kept a gun in my nightstand out of habit. I lived in a full house situation with my brother upstairs and our barmaid down the hall. My irritation came from the game she played clearly avoiding me if the shocked look on her face was anything to go by. She had no intention of calling me again and while I guessed I should have been fine with the one time deal I typically went for, this was different. She made me feel something and then she snatched it back and I had no say in the matter.
Loss of control made me nuts.
The clock ticked out five minutes as I waited for her reply curious how she would handle this. Would she pretend to not know me? Would she come clean, or tell me I was being a creepy ass stalker? I had no idea how to read this woman other than I already knew she was a fountain of secrets.
My email dinged.
Mr. Easton,
I thank you for your prompt investigation into my computer situation. However, I like my desktop just fine as it stands. No need to change or upgrade anything. I will let you know if I change my mind.
Sincerely,
Kiara Roberts
Physical Education Instructor
Varsity Girls Track Coach
Assistant Girls Cross Country Coach
Well that was quick and to the point. Unfortunately, I wasn't exactly pushing the double-entendres here. I actually did need to upgrade her computer. This wasn't a coy attempt to slide into her DMs or install some adware on her computer for spying and keyboard strokes. This was a legitimate need and not only was she denying me, she was preventing me from advancing my workload and the type A in me was not having it on a Monday.
Kiara,
I wasn't asking. I'm doing a full upgrade for the district and your firewall has been lagging since the last update, sometime in the prehistoric era. Will sixth or seventh period work for you?
David
Okay. Admittedly I was being a bit of a dick. The upgrade could totally wait, but I just had to know what the hell I had done to scare her off on Saturday night. She was into everything we did and I thought I read the signs right even asking her if this was what she wanted. I was only making myself aggravated by letting it ruminate.
We had to work together professionally and I could do that, but I still missed the woman I met over the weekend. I checked my watch, no response yet. Where did she go underneath her buttoned up blouse, slim pants, and cardigan? Did she at least have panties that were worthy of ripping off underneath her conservative clothes? I felt a burning desire to find out and I didn't like the quandary it presented me with.
My email dinging and I almost sent the apple on my desk sailing across the room checking the screen.
Seventh Period.
That was all I got. Two words. Probably the briefest brush off in the history of brush offs. If that wasn't a pissed off woman I didn't know what was, but at least she gave me a time that worked.
About the Author:
M.C. Cerny is a USA Today Bestselling author of fresh sexy books. She experienced her first real ugly cry reading, Where The Red Fern Grows, and never looked back. She lives with a menagerie of human and feline fur-babies in rural NJ. When M.C. is not writing, you'll find her lurking in Starbucks, running stupid marathons, and eating all the tacos.
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