Still a "new release", here's a little excerpt from "Breakaway":
They’d just finished a dinner full of talk and laughter, teasing and flirting, when three women appeared beside their table. “Jase Heller!” one of them said with a big smile. “Can we get your autograph?”
“Uh...” Hell, he did not want to do this, but he was never rude to the fans. “Sure.” He cast an apologetic glance across the table at Remi.
“Here.” The woman dug in her purse and pulled out a pen. “I don’t have anything for you to sign, so you can do it right here.” And she pulled down her low cut top so Jason could sign her chest, just above her left breast.
He gulped and tightened his jaw as he tried to sign without really touching her. It probably was no accident when she moved and her breast brushed against his arm.
“I saw you play against the Bruins last week,” one of the other women said, stepping up for her autograph. In the same place. “You got two goals.”
“Um, yeah.” He signed again and turned to the third woman, and when he’d finished signing her chest, she took the pen from him, took his hand, turned it palm up and wrote a phone number on it. Jesus.
“I love watching you play,” she purred, making intense eye contact, making her words sound dirty.
Jason swallowed, forced a smile and shot Remi a look. She sat there, stone-faced, mouth tight, hands clasped around her drink. She lifted one eyebrow at him.
The three women seemed in no hurry to leave and kept chatting until he finally said, “Sorry, ladies, but my girlfriend and I are just finishing dinner.”
The three women shot baleful looks at Remi, as if they hadn’t even noticed her sitting there until that moment, and finally left.
“Sorry,” he muttered, reaching across the table for her hand. “That never happens.”
She didn’t sound convinced.
“Well, it happens sometimes. I’m sorry, Remi.”
“Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault.” But she looked pissed. “And I’m not your girlfriend.”
“I had to get rid of them somehow. Let’s go,” he said, getting up from the table and holding out a hand to help her up. They emerged from the restaurant to a flash bursting in front of their eyes.
Oh, no. Not again.
“It’s okay,” Jason said, turning her from the photographers. He muttered under his breath. Jesus. What were they doing hanging around Navy Pier, for God’s sake? He never would have anticipated they’d be there, looking for someone to photograph. And Remi was already annoyed.
“I guess we’re done here,” he said. Damn. They’d been having such a great day.
“Yeah. I guess.”
He shot her a sideways glance, walking down the sidewalk, holding her hand, remembering the last time he’d tried to take her back to his place. “Will you come home with me?”
She stopped. They faced each other. She looked so pretty with that big scarf wrapped around her neck. “Will the paparazzi follow us there?” she asked.
“I don’t know.” He glanced over his shoulder. They seemed to have dispersed. “I don’t think so.”
“Will you wash that phone number off your hand?”
After a blink of his eyes, he burst out laughing. “Yes.”
She inhaled a long slow breath, then nodded and relief slid through him. “Okay.”