Lennox’s favorite escape is the Food Truck Warriors . . .until it needs his protection.
Ash isn’t running from his past—he’s already left it way behind. He’s built a business from scratch, using all the lessons that his father taught him, and every day at his food truck is a challenge he was born to tackle.
But when a stalker appears, hinting that he knows the secrets Ash has tried so hard to bury, he needs more help than his food truck friends can provide. He needs a professional.
Lennox is a mystery. He’s been coming around the Food Truck Warriors for months now, and nobody knows if that’s even his real name. But Ash is fascinated by the man, and the feeling seems to be mutual.
When the threat to Ash becomes a little too real, Lennox intervenes, and finally, the electricity between them transforms into something very much like love. But now their safety—and their hearts—are on the line.
Shaw isn’t his friend—until Ross discovers he’s so much more.
Ross Stanton is having a bad week—a bad month—really, a bad year. But the last thing he wants, after the betrayal of his friend and business partner, is for anyone else to know just how much he’s fighting for survival.
He’s struggling to keep his food truck and to maintain appearances, but what Ross doesn’t realize is that Shaw Finley, the bartender from the Funky Cup, has seen right through his charade.
Shaw offers the couch in his apartment over the bar, suggesting that saving money on rent might help salvage Ross’ failing prospects.
Even though he doesn’t really consider them friends, Ross discovers that Shaw is great to talk to, easy to look at, and he likes him. Late nights and lazy mornings and evenings with only the polished wood of the bar between them lead to an attraction that Ross can’t deny—and that Shaw doesn’t even try to.
But falling in love isn’t as easy as falling into bed together, and Ross isn’t even sure what he feels is love, until he figures out that it couldn’t possibly be anything else.
Can Ren’s bad boy heart be wooed and won?
Ren Moretti likes his life—and his hookups—just the way they are: fast and loose.
He only ever hooks up with someone once, and relationships? Forget it. Never gonna happen. No guy has ever persuaded him to bend, break, or alter his one date and one night rule.
Until Seth Abramson.
Seth has always tempted Ren—but it’s not a secret that Seth won’t settle for just one night. A few dates won’t cut it, and he’s not interested in playing around. He wants it all, and he intends to win Ren’s heart.
But that’s the one thing Ren’s never given up. He guards it closely and fiercely, until one day, when he realizes it’s no longer his to protect, it’s belonged to Seth all along.
Full Speed Ahead #4
After climbing into the truck, Ash set his coffee on the counter and checked his watch. His delivery should be here any moment, if they were on time, which . . . Ash had learned practically from the cradle what to do with suppliers who wouldn’t keep to their timelines or couldn’t be relied upon.
They really didn’t want to be late today.
Ash wasn’t in the mood for it.
He glanced out the front window, and froze.
There was a piece of paper taped to it—something that had definitely not been there when he’d closed up last night.
Ash stared at the words, printed in damning black and white.
It was an interview that his father had done—likely one of hundreds, if not thousands, he’d done over the course of his illustrious career. But in this one, he had mentioned his son, Oliver. Who, Stephan Atkinson had said with some humor, liked to be called Ash.
A silly affectation, his father told the interviewer, that he would grow out of.
Ash had been . . . maybe thirteen or fourteen if he remembered correctly, when this article had come out, and he’d been furious. It had been one of the many things he’d been pissed at his father for.
Now someone had found it, dredged it out of the bowels of magazine hell, had photocopied it, and taped it to his window. Not facing outwards, so anyone could see it, but inwards, so only Ash could.
Fury flashed with a frightening power through him. He didn’t hesitate. He grabbed his keys, and with shaking fingers, locked up behind him. Walked around to the front of his truck, tore the paper off, leaving the edges trapped by the neatly placed tape fluttering in the early morning breeze, and forgoing his bicycle, took off for the one place that he’d told himself he would not go.
Who else could have done this? Ash thought angrily as he stormed towards his destination. It was still so early the streets were essentially empty. He’s the only one who knows.
The building that Tony had described was only a few blocks away.
It had been remodeled, with a glass-front office on the lower level, and a living space on the top. There were a separate set of stairs leading to a discreet door on a wrought iron landing.
A discreet black-lettered sign, matching the wrought iron of the stairs and contrasting with the freshly painted taupe stucco of the building itself, indicated that this was the offices of Protectorate.
It might be early, but Ash could see a figure already in the office below.
Tony had mentioned offhandedly that Lennox was a workaholic, always in the office, so it was not a huge stretch to imagine that it was him, up early, and already working.
Ash walked over to the door, and pulled it, fully expecting it to be locked, but to his surprise it opened easily.
Even though he must have been the one to unlock it, Lennox looked up with shock as he walked in.
Ash imagined they probably didn’t get much foot traffic.
He stomped over to where Lennox sat at a desk, and slapped the paper down in front of him.
“What the fuck is this?” he demanded to know.
Lennox stared at the writing. He took his time answering, clearly reading through the words on the page once, and maybe even twice. Finally he looked up. “It looks like an interview that your father did, talking about his restaurants, and also his son.” He hesitated. “You.”
“Yes, thank you, I can read just as well as you can,” Ash bit off. “What I mean is why was it taped to my truck’s front window this morning?”
“Taped to your . . .”
“And not facing out, but facing in,” Ash interrupted. “So I would see it, but nobody else. Someone wants me to know they’ve figured out who my father is.”
“And you think that’s me.”
Ash gestured wildly, pacing between Lennox’s desk, and the other, currently unoccupied. “Who else could it be?”
“Do you really think I needed to do this to get your attention?” Lennox asked, his tone dry.
Wheels Down #5
Shaw removed his glass, replaced it with a full cup of water and ice, and then a moment later he was back, with a plate full of delicious-smelling food.
“Steak and mushroom hoagie, with horseradish aioli,” Shaw said, depositing it in front of him, “and our famous sweet potato fries.”
“They’re famous?” Ross wondered, even as he realized he had heard people talking about them.
“According to our Yelp reviews,” Shaw said. “Can I grab you anything else?”
Ross was about to ask for napkins, because the sandwich looked absolutely delicious but also messy, but then one appeared next to him, like Shaw had known he’d need it.
“I think I’m good, thanks,” Ross said, and picked up the sandwich. It had a surprising heft to it, and he had to give Jackson and Shaw credit—they’d revamped the kitchen and the work they’d put in showed. When he took a bite, he was even more impressed, half a dozen flavors exploding across his tongue as he chewed spiced sliced steak working in perfect complement to the earthiness of the mushrooms.
“You’re nodding over there,” Shaw said, his voice teasing. “Is that a good or a bad thing?”
Ross finished chewing and swallowed. “Really good,” he said. “I’m impressed.”
“Wow,” Shaw said, looking surprised. Too surprised.
“Am I really that notorious?” Ross asked, before he thought better of it. He ate a handful of sweet potato fries and they were really good too. “That picky?”
He didn’t really want to hear the answer; he really didn’t want to hear Shaw’s answer.
“Not exactly notorious,” Shaw said, returning to slicing his lemons.
“Then what exactly?”
Shaw sighed and put down the knife.
“You’re gonna get me in trouble,” he said with resignation.
“I am?”
Ross almost told him to forget it. After all, hearing the truth was probably not going to be all that enlightening and might actually make the next few months of living together uncomfortable.
Shaw smiled then, and it wasn’t the same smile he gave to all the random guys at the bar. It was softer, sweeter, more genuine somehow. Ross had never seen it before, and it hit him somewhere deep, a place where he hadn’t felt much of anything in years.
Maybe the last time had been when his grandmother had smiled at him, over pots and pans and pie dishes.
“You gotta know that you’ve got the best food at that whole lot,” Shaw said. “Objectively. The other food there is good, don’t get me wrong, but those guys? You know why they keep you at arm’s length? They’re all terrified of you, though they’d rather die than admit it. You’re brilliant. You should be working in the best, the fanciest, the most expensive restaurants, and instead you’ve got this food truck and it’s just amazing. Every time I go to Basket, I’m blown away.”
“And,” Shaw continued, leaning over, his blue eyes twinkling again, and Ross’ breath caught in his throat, “you’re gonna get me in trouble, because Jackson would have my ass for not thinking Alexis serves the best food on the lot.”
Ride or Die #6
“You gonna order?” Ren asked. Hoping that he understood exactly what he meant. And he wasn’t talking about sandwiches.
“Oh yeah, I definitely am,” Seth said, and Ren’s stomach fluttered.
There was something so decisive and grown up about this guy.
Like he’d throw Ren over his shoulder and cart him back to his bedroom.
“What can I get you?” Ren asked.
Me. I can get you me. And you’d enjoy every second of it. Trust me. I’m delicious.
“That’s a real good question,” Seth said.
“I’m going to get lunch,” Lennox announced, and nobody was surprised to see him head off towards Ash’s food truck.
“Well, if you want a recommendation,” Gabe said, and Ren wished that his cousin would go do anything else right now, “you can’t go wrong with the Thai meatball crunch wrap.”
“Does everything have balls or buns?” Seth wanted to know.
Oh, Ren wanted to show him.
So badly that he deployed the smile that he usually saved for closing the deal. But then, he was closing the deal right now, wasn’t he? He could feel it in his bones.
Specifically one bone in particular.
“Yes,” Ren said.
“Straightforward,” Seth said, taking a step nearer, and now Ren could really get a good look at him. He was even sexier in higher definition and he’d made Ren’s mouth water even without the close-up look. “I like it.”
“See anything else you like?” Ren decided there was no point in delaying. They were both clearly interested. “Lucky for you, I just happen to be free tonight.”
Somehow, impossibly, Seth’s own closing smile was even more devastating than Ren’s own.
Ren was unmoored. Blown away. Blown apart.
What would it be like to be under him, when he smiled like that?
What would it feel like to kiss that smile off him?
He was going to get to find out. Ren could feel it. Could nearly taste it.
“Really straightforward,” Seth said, not sounding like he hated that at all.
“Why bother pretending that you don’t just want a sandwich?” Ren shrugged. “We’re both interested. I’m free tonight, and I know we’d both enjoy ourselves.”
“What about tomorrow, then?”
Ren had learned the hard way that it was better to always be honest about his intentions. But this guy, even if he didn’t do one-night stands, was so hooked that Ren knew there was no way he’d ever turn him down.
Ren could feel the other side of the hook, buried in him, tugging him even closer, and he dared anyone to try to resist that completely irresistible pull.
“What about tomorrow?” Ren asked archly. “Why do we have to worry about tomorrow?”
“I’m all about the tomorrows,” he admitted with a shrug. “I’m not here for just the tonights. I want to know there’s going to be a tomorrow, too.”
Ren frowned. “I don’t do tomorrows. Not when tonights are so freaking great.”
“Then I guess I’ll have to make do with just a sandwich.” Seth sounded genuinely regretful, which was why Ren didn’t even register the rejection right away. He’d been so goddamned nice about it. Like he hadn’t wanted to say no.
Beth Bolden
A lifelong Pacific Northwester, Beth Bolden has just recently moved to North Carolina with her supportive husband. Beth still believes in Keeping Portland Weird, and intends to be just as weird in Raleigh.
Beth has been writing practically since she learned the alphabet. Unfortunately, her first foray into novel writing, titled Big Bear with Sparkly Earrings, wasn’t a bestseller, but hope springs eternal. She’s published twenty-three novels and seven novellas.
WEBSITE / NEWSLETTER / CHIRP
Ride or Die #6
Kitchen Gods Series
Charleston Condors
Rainbow Clause
Los Angeles Riptide Series
Food Truck Warriors
Star Shadow
