Release date: 6 January 2014
Angie Swanson’s life couldn’t get more pathetic. Once a popular masseuse in Seattle, she’s now the super pumper at her brother Drew’s gas station in Deadhorse, Oregon. When her brother’s best friend, Gary, arrives in town, she finally sees her way out of the hell she’s in. If she can convince Gary to let her live with him in Seattle, just for a couple weeks until she lands a job, she’ll do anything for him.
There’s no way in hell Gary Satchel, wide receiver for the Seattle Seahawks, will let Angie live with him temporarily. His best friend, Drew, would kill him if he found out he’s lusting after Angie. He only traveled to Deadhorse to give Angie the good news that the Seahawks hired her to work alongside their physical therapist and to have Drew take a look at his Camaro. But when Drew pulls a “bro favor,” he finds himself up to his helmet in trouble.
by Debra Kayn
Top-selling romance author Debra Kayn lives with her family in the beautiful Bitterroot mountains of Idaho where she enjoys riding motorcycles, gardening, playing tennis, and fishing. Find Debra at www.debrakayn.com, on Facebook at www.facebook.com/DebraKaynFanPage, and on Twitter @DebraKayn.
An excerpt from Secretly:
Distracted by the many things on her wish list, Angie gave the man leaning against the gas pump a cursory glance and opened her mouth to tell him the gas station was closed when recognition dawned on her. She gasped and covered her mouth.
Tall with huge shoulders, Gary Satchel, the Seattle Seahawks’ wide receiver, hijacked her attention. She stood without saying a word, not believing he was here. But it was him. Not just anybody could pull off his size.
His well-worn Levi’s, blue and silver Seattle Seahawks football jersey, six foot four inches tall with dark stormy eyes, the two inch scar running the length of his left cheekbone on his handsome face told her everything she needed to know. She raised her gaze and shouted in joy. Her brother’s best friend had come to save her.
“Gary,” she said on an exhale, launching herself into his arms.
He remained silent, as he was known to do. She closed her eyes, squeezing back the tears of relief at having his famous bear hug wrapping her tightly in his embrace. If there was one person she trusted, besides her brother, it was Gary.
He’d been the solid body she’d clung to during her teenage years when life seemed too cruel to handle alone. Later, he’d become her protector when drunk guys hit on her at the clubs. He always lent her an ear when she needed to talk, and he listened without judgment.
“Sorry to hear about the job, Ang.” He inhaled deeply, expanding his chest; she could barely get her arms around him.
She leaned back so she could gaze up at his face. “They picked that asshole Rodden over me to go to Germany to open the new shop. Can you believe that? The guy’s rough with his hands and has the bedside manners of a stuck-up prick. The least they could’ve done is keep the spa open here in Seattle, instead of closing. My clientele alone would’ve been enough to make it profitable.”
He chuckled. “Asshole? Prick?”
“Drew’s rubbing off on me. Shop talk—go figure.” She shuddered. “What are you doing here?”
She reluctantly stepped away from him and forced her shoulders back. Glad to have someone she knew to talk with, she wasn’t going to scare him off by bitching. He gave her hand one more squeeze before letting go.
“I thought I’d stay a couple days, see your brother, and pester you.” He motioned for her to walk with him.
“I’m not even going to rise to the bait. I’m seriously lacking in any intelligent conversations. The only things people here talk about are hay prices and how many days until winter.” She leaned closer and touched him again to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating. “Besides, I get you all to myself. Drew’s out on business and won’t be home until tomorrow.”
“Damn. I’d hoped he’d be around.” He pointed to the restored Camaro in the driveway of Drew’s house behind the garage. “I wanted to see if he could check the muffler. It’s riding rough, and sounds like it’s made for the racetrack.”
“Ugh. Don’t talk cars. That’s all I hear about twenty-four/seven. Between the gas station and Drew, I’ve heard enough to last a lifetime.” She walked up the driveway, and noticed his bags lying by the front door. “I am so glad you’re here.”
“Maybe I should hit the motel.” He stopped and put his hand on his car. “I’ll come by tomorrow and spend some time with you both.”
“Are you crazy?” She grabbed his hand. “I just said this place is boring me to tears. Stay at the house and fill me in on what’s happening in the Emerald City. Then I want to pick your brain about places I can send my résumé and—” she swallowed “—afterward, I want to hear what is going on with you.”