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Title:
Lucas – A Preston Brothers Novel #1
Author:
Jay McLean
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BLURB
In
a sprint, every millisecond counts.
When you’re
waiting for love, those milliseconds can feel like eons.
High school senior Lucas Preston has it all: star of the track team, a scholarship waiting for him, an apartment to himself and a revolving door of girlfriends. He also has an older sister, five younger brothers and a father who relies on him to make sure those brothers don’t kill each other.
His saving grace? Lois “Laney” Sanders, a girl he started to fall in like with when he was just eleven.
A girl who became his best friend, his confidant, his courage.
It took only sixteen clicks and eight seconds for Lucas to realize that his like for Laney had turned into love.
Eight life-changing seconds.
It’s also the exact length of time it took to lose her.
High school senior Lucas Preston has it all: star of the track team, a scholarship waiting for him, an apartment to himself and a revolving door of girlfriends. He also has an older sister, five younger brothers and a father who relies on him to make sure those brothers don’t kill each other.
His saving grace? Lois “Laney” Sanders, a girl he started to fall in like with when he was just eleven.
A girl who became his best friend, his confidant, his courage.
It took only sixteen clicks and eight seconds for Lucas to realize that his like for Laney had turned into love.
Eight life-changing seconds.
It’s also the exact length of time it took to lose her.
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BOOKS IN THE SERIES
Logan
– A Preston Brothers Novel #2
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As
a kid, Logan Preston was a brat.
Through his teens, he became the bad boy.
Now, at nineteen, no one knows what the hell to expect.
High school dropout, Logan Preston is a
good-for-nothing stoner.
A black sheep.
A disappointment.
The worst Preston Punk of the lot.
At least that’s how everyone in his small town
makes him feel.
But Logan Preston has secrets.
Secrets so dark and so deep below the surface that the only way he can fight them is to stay high, high, high.
He wears cockiness as a mask.
Arrogance as his armor.
Until one girl, one night, asks one life-changing question:
What's beneath the bravado, Logan Preston?
Through his teens, he became the bad boy.
Now, at nineteen, no one knows what the hell to expect.
High school dropout, Logan Preston is a
good-for-nothing stoner.
A black sheep.
A disappointment.
The worst Preston Punk of the lot.
At least that’s how everyone in his small town
makes him feel.
But Logan Preston has secrets.
Secrets so dark and so deep below the surface that the only way he can fight them is to stay high, high, high.
He wears cockiness as a mask.
Arrogance as his armor.
Until one girl, one night, asks one life-changing question:
What's beneath the bravado, Logan Preston?
GOODREADS
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US: http://amzn.to/2wJMw4O
Amazon
UK: http://amzn.to/2wKGZed
Amazon
CA: http://amzn.to/2wLbAZ4
Amazon AU: http://amzn.to/2wJN4ro
Amazon AU: http://amzn.to/2wJN4ro
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AUTHOR
BIO
Jay
McLean is an international best-selling author and full-time reader,
writer of New Adult Romance, and most of all, procrastinator. When
she's not doing any of those things, she can be found running after
her two little boys, playing house and binge watching Netflix.
She
writes what she loves to read, which are books that can make her
laugh, make her hurt and make her feel.
Jay
lives in the suburbs of Melbourne, Australia, in a forever half-done
home where music is loud and laughter is louder.
I’ve been stranded at the hotel bar in Vegas alone for exactly twenty seconds before a guy sidles in beside me. “Buy you a drink?”
I glance up. He’s at least twenty years my senior, with pleated khakis and an obvious comb-over. I shake my head and smile tightly. “Got one, thanks.”
“Aw, come on now,” he says, plunking himself down in the empty seat beside me. “You in town for the conference?” Then, in spite of the fact that I haven’t asked: “Medical devices.”
His name is Greg, he continues; he sells surgical equipment and has a hundred dollar per diem he hasn’t blown through yet today, if I want to rethink that drink offer. “I’ll spring for nachos too,” he says magnanimously. “I’m a generous guy.”
I’m sweeping the room for the closest exit, contemplating an escape worthy of Danny Ocean himself, when a hand lands on the back of my barstool. “Hey babe,” a deep voice says casually. “Making friends?”
I whip around. This guy would look right at home with Clooney and Pitt. He’s tall and dark-haired, wearing a shirt rolled halfway to his elbows and an expression that clearly says, just go with it. “I got my ass beat at roulette,” he continues with a sheepish grin. “There goes private school for the kids, right?” He sticks his hand out to medical device guy. “Cal. The husband.”
I almost choke on my paloma. Still, something about the sheer ballsiness of this particular play--and, okay, how hot this guy is--has me playing along. “Hey hon,” I say, laying a hand on his pleasantly solid bicep. “Greg here was just telling me all about the free swag at the medical device conference in town.”
Greg’s gaze darts from me to Cal, then back again. “I guess I’ll leave y’all to it, then.”
“Good to meet you,” I lie, smiling my cheeriest smile.
Once he’s gone I turn to Cal. “So, on a scale of like, one to Disney Princess, how badly did I look like I needed rescuing?”
Cal tilts his head to the side, considering. “I mean, your undisguised expression of misery kind of gave it away.”
“Maybe that’s just how my face is!” I protest, laughing in spite of myself. “Resting miserable face.”
“Eh. Maybe.” Cal shrugs, all confidence as he settles himself onto Greg’s recently vacated barstool. “You don’t look so miserable now.”
Right away I feel my cheeks flush. It’s been a long time since I flirted—or, more accurately, since I was competently flirted with. “So how many kids do we have, exactly?”
“Not too many,” he reassures me, nodding at the bartender for another beer. “Like six or seven, max.”
“Six or seven!” I snort. “And here you are just gambling their lunch money away like some kind of degenerate.”
Cal nods gravely. “I’m a real scoundrel,” he agrees.
“Clearly.” I stick my hand out. “Jules Robinson.”
“Nice to meet you, Jules Robinson.” He gives good handshake, firm but not bone-crushing, all long fingers and the faintest scrape of callus on his palm. His eyes are a deep, friendly brown. “So what brings you to Vegas?” he asks.
“I’m with a girlfriend,” I explain. “Or I was, anyway. At the moment she’s out on an... exploratory mission.”
Cal grins. “Sounds exhilarating.”
“Oh, I’m sure it is,” I assure him. “What about you? What are you doing in town?”
“Auditioning for Thunder from Down Under,” he says immediately. Then, off my laugh: ”Callback, actually. I aced the first round, they couldn’t get enough of me.”
“Right, no, obviously.” The ads for the all-male revue were plastered all over the strip when we got here this afternoon: beefy, longhaired guys in bow ties, cummerbunds, and not much else. “So what’s your character?” I ask, rattling the ice in my mostly-empty glass. “Sexy fireman, sexy cop…?”
“Sexy medical device salesman,” he deadpans. “See, you’re laughing, but I have a whole bit I do with the x-ray machine. It’s a real crowd pleaser.”
Casino bars don’t ever really empty out, but this one is taking on a distinct after-hours vibe, low light and quiet conversations; the Bud-guzzling bachelor party bros are long gone. When I finally check my phone to see if Kelly’s texted—she has, she’s safe, and she’s having a truly epic time with her mountain man—I realize it’s after one. “Holy shit,” I blurt. “How’d it get to be so late?”
Cal raises his eyebrows. “Keeping you up?”
“What? No!” I blurt, immediately embarrassed by how eager I sound. “We just had an early flight out this morning, that’s all. I’ve been up for like twenty hours.”
“I’m teasing you, princess.” He smiles at me then, slow and easy. It’s the most intimate smile of my entire life. It’s a smile like sitting in front of a campfire in October and reading the paper in bed on Sunday morning; it’s a smile, frankly, like getting good and fucked by a man who knows you down to your most essential particles. “You wanna get out of here?” he asks.
I knew it was coming but still there’s something bracingly scandalous about the idea, being propositioned by a total stranger. I’m imagining it now, I can’t help it: that broad chest pressed against mine and his capable-looking mouth on my neck, long fingers reaching down between my legs and—
“Tempting,” I tell him truthfully, laying a palm against my flaming face. “But I probably shouldn’t.”
To his credit Cal keeps smiling, a little rueful; he doesn’t try to convince me, either, just touches my arm and catches the bartender’s eye to settle up. “Fair enough,” he tells me, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. “Well, it was really nice to be married to you for five minutes, Jules Robinson.”
“Yeah,” I agree, feeling my whole body get warm. “It was nice to be married to you for five minutes, too.”
I’m surprised by the sharp pang of longing behind my ribs as I watch him go a moment later, the strange sense that I’ve somehow given up more than just a roll in starchy white hotel sheets. Still, it’s not like I’m about to just get up and follow him out of here. He probably does this every night, sure. But I’ve never had a one night stand in my entire life.
I’ve never had a one-night stand in my entire life.
The thought stops me—after all, I’m a grown-ass woman with a newly minted law degree, aren’t I? I’ve got nobody to answer to but myself. And this is Vegas. What happens here, et cetera. I swallow down the rest of my tequila, set the glass back down on the bar. “Hey Cal!” I call, slinging my purse over my shoulder and hopping down off my barstool as quickly as my tiny dress allows. “Wait up.”
VERY IRRESISTIBLE PLAYBOY (Billionaire Bachelors #1) – available now.