On the Line Read online

  On the Line is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  A Loveswept Ebook Original

  Copyright © 2018 by Liz Lincoln

  Excerpt from Swagger by Liz Lincoln copyright © 2018 by Liz Lincoln

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States by Loveswept, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.

  LOVESWEPT is a registered trademark and the LOVESWEPT colophon is a trademark of Penguin Random House LLC.

  This book contains an excerpt from the forthcoming book Swagger by Liz Lincoln. This excerpt has been set for this edition only and may not reflect the final content of the forthcoming edition.

  Ebook ISBN 9780525619826

  Cover design: Diane Luger

  Cover photograph: vishstudio/Shutterstock

  randomhousebooks.com

  v5.2

  ep

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  By Liz Lincoln

  About the Author

  Excerpt from Swagger

  Chapter 1

  Carrie Heron’s toes wiggled impatiently inside her shoes. It wasn’t the cashier’s fault that Carrie had put off grocery shopping until eight o’clock at night, when her stomach was ready to digest itself. But it was his fault he was possibly the slowest cashier on the planet.

  The man in line behind Carrie set his purchases on the belt, drawing her attention.

  The first thing she noticed were his tanned arms, all thick, corded muscle. Her gaze moved up to his wide shoulders and solid chest, wearing a maroon Milwaukee Dragons T-shirt. She took in his jaw, covered in a neatly trimmed blond beard, and his blond hair, pulled into a bun at the nape of his neck. His nose was pink with fading sunburn, like he spent his days outside.

  Her toes stopped wiggling so they could curl. She was a sucker for tall, muscular guys. And for beards. And man buns. And blondes. If he had blue eyes, she quite possibly would jump him right here in the grocery line. They certainly had plenty of time.

  She allowed herself a glance at his eyes.

  Clear, light blue.

  Had someone sucked the air out of the grocery store? She felt a bit faint.

  Beardy McMuscles glanced up and caught her looking. He gave her a conspiratorial smile, inclining his head slightly toward the cashier.

  Carrie managed to keep her cool, smiling back and rolling her eyes. Inside, her pulse fluttered and her toes uncurled so they could curl again. Good thing she’d opted for tennis shoes and not flip-flops. She hated getting her feet wet in the rain, even a warm early-September storm like tonight’s.

  She made herself look away before the eye contact became staring and he decided she was creepy. Her gaze dropped to his purchases, two items behind hers on the conveyer belt. A bunch of bananas and a box of super-plus tampons.

  Tampons. Well then.

  He was clearly married. And absolutely smitten, because no man bought feminine hygiene products for anyone but a wife he adored.

  Like it mattered. She wasn’t going to ask him out or anything.

  “That’ll be $127.49.”

  The cashier’s high-pitched voice drew her attention away from McMuscles. When had food gotten so expensive? She flashed the teen a quick smile, then reached into her purse for her wallet.

  Her fingers brushed her keys, cellphone, lip balm, sunglasses, a paper napkin she needed to throw away, loose change. No wallet. She set the bag on the edge of the counter and peered inside. No wallet. She took out most of the items, one by one. No wallet.

  Dammit. She didn’t have time for this. Not only was she starving, but she was supposed to do laundry at her brother’s tonight. He’d threatened to start watching the last episode of The Walking Dead without her if she didn’t show.

  “Well,” she said, her voice overly bright, “I guess I left my wallet at home.” She shoved her hand into her hair, trying to think. At least she was too frustrated to get embarrassed by her extreme idiocy. “Can you…is there a way to set this aside, and I guess I’ll run home and grab it, then come back?” She couldn’t wait and come back tomorrow. If she didn’t buy the food tonight, she’d have to get takeout for dinner. Which didn’t fit into her unemployment budget.

  She resisted the urge to scream in frustration, biting down on the inside of her lips to hold in the sound.

  “Sure, I can suspend the transaction and leave it at customer service,” the boy said. He barely looked older than her former seventh-grade students. Shouldn’t he be home, getting ready for school tomorrow?

  “Thanks,” she said, voice weary. “I appreciate it.”

  Bananas appeared in front of the cashier. “Here, add these to her total. I got it.”

  Carrie’s heart stopped for a moment, leaving room for her stomach to drop to her feet. Mouth gaping, she turned to McMuscles. He was sliding his credit card through the machine.

  “Wha…I…you…” Until a few months ago, she’d been responsible for the education of Milwaukee’s youth. Yet she couldn’t form a full word.

  He grinned—of course he had perfect teeth—and for a second she couldn’t catch her breath. Hot man. Buying her groceries. She was hardly a damsel in distress—OK, maybe a little in distress, but not a damsel—and he wasn’t a knight. All those muscles would probably break his armor. But oh, she was going to swoon.

  “Thank you,” she finally managed to say. With that grin, he was a million times hotter. That, and his enormous generosity, had her completely stunned.

  “No problem.”

  He had a deep but gentle voice, at odds with his size and immense masculinity.

  When the cashier started to put his items in a bag, McMuscles waved him off. “No bag. I got it.” He took the bananas and tampons in one large hand.

  “Have a good night.” The cashier handed over the receipt.

  Carrie gave him another awkward smile that felt forced. She was still in shock. People didn’t buy someone else’s groceries. It was a huge gesture and she couldn’t quite wrap her mind around it. “Thank you again. Really. You don’t know how much I appreciate it.”

  “No problem. I’m glad to help.” He walked beside her as she pushed her cart toward the exit.

  “Your wife is a lucky woman. Very few men would be willing to buy tampons.”

  He cleared his throat and looked a little embarrassed.

  Why had she said that? She was racking up the idiot points tonight.

  “I’m not married. It’s for my daughter.” His ears and neck turned red, which was both adorable and sexy.

  “Oh, wow, I wouldn’t have guessed you were old enough to have a daughter who…” Realizing what she’d said, Carrie
clapped her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. That was rude.” Shut up, Carrie.

  “No, it’s OK. I was young. And she’s only twelve.” His blush crept to his cheeks and eventually his whole face was red. He stopped right before they reached the door. “It’s, uh, you know, her first time. She’ll know what to do with these, right? I mean, girls know these things, talk about them with their friends. Yeah?” He waved the box of tampons.

  Super-plus tampons. Carrie clenched her thighs at the idea of how uncomfortable that poor girl would be. Shaking her head, she pushed past the awkwardness to say, “Nope. Those are way too big for a twelve-year-old girl. I can’t let you give her those.”

  Humor danced in his eyes as he narrowed them at her. Those gorgeous blue eyes, framed by thick dark lashes that didn’t quite go with his blond hair. “I buy your groceries for you, and you repay me by giving me a hard time?” The corner of his mouth twitched, like he was trying not to smile.

  He was teasing her. OK, she could do teasing. She nodded vigorously, matching his almost-smile. “Seriously, I’m saving your daughter from a much worse time.”

  As quickly as it had appeared, his teasing expression faded. “So what’s…shit.” He scrubbed his hand over his face, then glanced skyward, his face tight. He made a frustrated sound in the back of his throat, and it was so sexy, it had Carrie clenching her thighs again.

  They were discussing his daughter and feminine hygiene products and she was turned on. When had she gotten so pathetic?

  “What do I get her? I don’t…I have no idea.”

  She had to put away her groceries, scarf down dinner, and take her laundry over to her brother’s before he started their show without her. It was already after eight o’clock, and her stomach was yelling at her. She shouldn’t do this.

  And yet…

  She swung her cart back toward the aisles. He’d bought her groceries. It was the least she could do for him. For his daughter. “Come on.” She put her hand on his forearm and pulled him with her. If she was going to do this, she should at least get to feel those amazing muscles.

  He flexed under her hand, and a zap of electricity shot through her, hitting her square in the chest. He was warm and solid—so very solid—and she wanted to touch him everywhere.

  Geez. It wasn’t like she’d gone years since her last time. But Lord, he was just so masculine. And big. And muscled.

  And adorably embarrassed.

  He followed, though she had no illusions that she actually had the power to move him. “What are we doing?”

  “I’m gonna help you figure out what you need to buy.” She turned down the aisle they needed.

  He stopped, so she did too. Because it would be weird to keep touching him, she removed her hand. He glanced down at his arm, then at her hand, then up to her.

  Her stomach, still working its way back up from her feet, thumped.

  “You don’t have to do that. I’m sure you have things to do. Mads and I will figure it out.” He gestured to the shelves. “You can tell me what she needs.”

  He had no idea how many choices there were. If she said “Get maxi pads,” he would be lost. “I teach seventh grade. I would never forgive myself if I didn’t help out a girl stuck with her dad for her first period.” She glanced at him. “No offense. But no girl wants to share this with her dad. I promise.”

  He ran his hand over his head and made a noise. She couldn’t tell if it was assent, dissent, or plain annoyance. Whatever emotion it conveyed, it was damn sexy.

  “I thought you were in a hurry.”

  Right there in the feminine hygiene aisle, she gave up on The Walking Dead. “This is more important. A girl never forgets her first period. It’s a rite of passage. But a somewhat miserable one, considering you’re bleeding and have no idea what to do.”

  He looked lost and a little desperate. “I thought girls talked about this stuff.”

  Carrie thought back to her preteen years. She and her friends had wondered what it would be like, but they didn’t talk about practical stuff like what to do. Only one girl in her group had gotten her period before Carrie, and she was the shy, quiet one. So Carrie had gone to her mom, and her mom got out a box of pads and explained what to do. Then they’d gone to get ice cream and some new comic books.

  “Not really. Not until they’re older and all complaining about having their period.” Carrie gave him a smile she hoped was sympathetic and encouraging. Poor guy. It couldn’t be easy being a single dad for a tween girl. “But her first period is a big deal. Maybe even a bigger deal than the first time she has sex.”

  “Jesus! She’s twelve!” He stepped back, glaring at her like she’d suggested his daughter was the Antichrist. “She is not having sex.”

  His reaction was so vehement, so typical dad, Carrie couldn’t help laughing. “No, I didn’t mean she is. I mean this is a big deal too. You want it to be a positive thing. And if you give her a gigantic tampon, you’ll terrify her.”

  “How big are we talking? You said it’s like the first…” The blush returned to his ears and he rubbed his chest, scratching the Dragons logo on his T-shirt. He glanced at the box, shot a glance in the direction of his groin, then looked away quickly and back to Carrie. “They’re not that big, are they?”

  It was her turn to blush, imaging what he was referencing as “that big.” He was a huge man, probably everywhere.

  Once again, she couldn’t draw a full breath as she held up two fingers side by side. No, this wasn’t awkward at all. She was not thinking about what this Thor look-alike could do with two fingers.

  The heat in her cheeks rapidly spread throughout her body “About like this. I think she might want something a little friendlier, don’t you?” Why had she offered to do this? She was discussing tampons and a child’s menstruation with the hottest guy she’d ever met, because of course that’s what she’d discuss.

  She didn’t even know his name.

  “I’m Carrie, by the way.” She held out her hand, partly to be polite, but also because she really wanted to touch him again. She’d never been this attracted to a man she’d just met. Then again, she never met men who were both stunningly gorgeous and adorably human.

  His giant hand engulfed hers and his tanned skin made her fair skin look almost white in contrast. “Seth.” He squeezed her hand, firmly but not hard enough to crush it, the way some men did to exert their dominance. His palm was rough, and she noticed he had athletic tape around one of his knuckles.

  She glanced up at him and found him watching her. There was that spark again. The zap. Oh man. She wanted to climb his huge body until she could kiss him.

  Wow, OK. Time to derail that thought train. She forced herself to turn back to the shelves. “Maybe let’s try something that goes on the outside for now.” Why couldn’t she shut up? He didn’t want a play-by-play, and she sounded like one of those lame sports announcers.

  She scanned the boxes until she found regular-absorbency pads, the same brand she preferred. The girl likely wouldn’t need the super-thick ones yet.

  Seth took the box from her and studied it carefully, turning it over to read the sides and the back. “I don’t think Mads will want to wear a diaper thing.”

  “Trust me, she’ll prefer it to trying to put in a tampon.”

  He cringed when she said put in. “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t have sisters, do you?” He was almost comically clueless.

  “Two younger brothers.”

  “Then you’ll have to trust me, as someone who’s been doing this for fifteen years.”

  He nodded, but his attention was still focused on the box. “If I give her this box, she’ll know what to do? She and her friends covered this?”

  “There are instructions in there.”

  He nodded again. “OK. We can do this.”

  “I
’d suggest you don’t help her with it.”

  “Right.” He looked up, his eyes powerfully blue as they met hers. Oh boy. There was that funny stomach thing again, along with a burst of awareness in her chest.

  He stared back, as much as she did. He shifted his weight, moving closer to her. She couldn’t stop herself from doing the same. His gaze dropped to her mouth. Of course her teeth decided it was a perfect time for a nibble on her lower lip.

  He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and leaned away.

  What the hell was that? They had a moment in the middle of tampons and pads? A moment that left her heart racing and her cheeks hot and her whole body antsy.

  “So. That should do it.” Taking a step back, she tossed her hand toward the pads. “Do you have someone you can ask if she has questions? Is her mom around?” Probably a loaded question, and way too personal. But she felt a certain kinship to this girl she’d never met.

  His face tightened. “No, her mom is most definitely not around.”

  Carrie sighed and gathered her courage. This was about the girl and not ulterior motives. “I’ll give you my number. You can call if you have a question.”

  He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and unlocked it, then handed it over. It was the same phone she had, so she easily found his contacts.

  As she typed, he stepped closer, close enough she could feel his warmth against her arm. It was like his energy came into her space. Which was totally weird but still how it felt. She liked the feeling.

  It was tempting to add more of her information so he would stay that close, but she had no reason to, so she handed the phone back to him.

  He took it, glanced at it, then slid it into his back pocket. “Thanks.” She thought he was giving her a faint smile, but his facial hair made it hard to tell.

  “No problem.” She started back down the aisle with her cart. She didn’t want to separate from him, but they could hardly continue chatting in the feminine hygiene aisle. Plus, he had pads to deliver. “You bought my groceries. It’s the least I can do.” Their conversational detour had made her momentarily forget her stunned gratitude at his gesture. Now it came flooding back, the reminder good people existed, the reminder you could make someone’s day by doing something kind, the reminder she needed to pay it forward. Did helping him count as paying it forward?