Ready for Love by Jules Dixon

Heat Level 3
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SKU 978-1-77339-095-6

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Triple R, 5

Advertising account executive Jace Zelensky has a lover that won’t ever have a heart beat. 

Personal trainer and former soldier Kai Thomas worries that when it comes to love her heart may have been permanently broken at a young age. 

When Jace’s blind commitment to her job interferes with Kai’s attempts to make a true connection and leaves Kai searching for her neurotic dog, Waffles, can Jace come to the rescue? Will a night with a no-strings-attached promise be the release they both need to satisfy their curiosity, or will those few minutes lead to something they’re willing to risk their hearts for?

Be Warned: f/f sex




Fucking mistakes.

I rushed down the hallway and into the bathroom, backing against the door on the inside. Why do I do this to myself? She wasn’t going to be the last woman to be polite to me just because, and she wasn’t the first who wasn’t interested but had pretended to be, to be nice.

Maybe I want a connection that doesn’t exist?

I waited for about five minutes, enough time for Jace to leave without me having to do the whole, “Well, thanks anyway” awkward thing. I washed my face and took off my clothes, slipping into my yoga pants and t-shirt from the hook on the back of the door.

I pushed the heels behind the door, where they’d probably live until the next wedding or funeral. I was a barefoot-on-the-beach kind of girl anyway.

I opened the door, and Waffles was sitting by the door, his ears drooping.

“It’s okay, Waffles. That kind of pretty isn’t in my league, but I’ve still got you. That’s all that matters.”

I stopped before I hit the living room as the TV turned on. What the hell?


“Yes. I’m still here, and thanks for calling me pretty, but you’re wrong about your league.”

“Maybe you should go?” I offered backing down the hall with embarrassment heating my face. I closed my eyes and leaned back against the wall.   

 Thuds pounded on the wood down the hallway. For her 5’2” stature she sounded like a 300-pound linebacker. The sound stopped. I opened my eyes to find her right in front of me.

“Here’s the deal, I’m a freak, Kai. I’m a certifiable, undeniable, stand up in church and scream it out, incurable, and total … mess. I clean constantly. My house. My car. My office. Like nonstop, every surface, every inch, and not because it needs it, but because I can’t stop. I wiped your coffee table off with a tissue, not because it needed it but because my brain said to do it. I would’ve rearranged those flowers for probably another dozen times, if you hadn’t distracted me. And I’m way less than perfect.” She reached inside and pulled out a small pad for stuffing in her bra.

Waffles cocked his head like he was examining a toy. I shooed him away and heard him doing his normal I-can-hide-in-small-spaces thing that I didn’t understand, but Waffles was just Waffles.

She continued, “When I run, I look like an old troll crossed with a baby flamingo. I work crazy long hours, and when I’m not working, I’m always thinking about what I’ll be working on when I’m working. So the package might be pretty, but I’m chaos inside. And honestly, you deserve to be first in my head, not in a long line of nonsense.”

I glanced to her chest.

Not perfect, but damn close.