Pushing His Luck (Surf, Sun & Sex Book 3) Read online

  Pushing His Luck

  a surf, sun & sex novella

  Rhyannon Byrd

  All rights reserved. This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook cannot be re-sold or given away to others. No parts of this eBook may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without the express, written consent of the author.

  Copyright © 2020 by Rhyannon Byrd

  This eBook is a work of fiction. Any references to actual events, persons, or locales are used fictitiously. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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  Contents

  Other Titles in the Series

  About the Story

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Next in the Series

  A Thank You from Rhyannon

  About the Author

  Also by Rhyannon Byrd

  Other Titles in the Series

  Making His Move

  Keeping His Promise

  About the Story

  the single mom

  Karin Riley is a woman who knows her worth, and after an ugly divorce, she’s been happy to focus on her son and her career, taking a break from men altogether. But from the moment that she first meets the gorgeous Paul Cartwright, she can’t get him out of her head. He’s tall, dark, ripped…and has the sexiest freaking smile she’s ever seen. He’s also a badass homicide detective who puts away criminals and helps people for a living. And despite his reputation as a man who doesn’t do “serious relationships,” Karin can’t help but say yes when the unbelievable happens and the irresistible hunk actually asks her out.

  the hot-as-hell detective

  Paul Cartwright is a hard-nosed cop who’s always put his work first and everything else second, including women. He’s drawn to Karin Riley from the instant he sets eyes on her, her natural beauty and shy smiles affecting him in a way that he knows is going to spell nothing but trouble. Karin isn’t a hook-up kind of woman, and if the past has taught him any crucial lessons, it’s that he’s not cut out for anything more than casual. But she’s his brother’s neighbor and friend, which means they see each other often. And each time they hang out together, Paul only wants her more, until fate finally persuades him to stop fighting the inevitable.

  the impossible comeback

  Despite the best of intentions, things don’t always go as planned. After life deals Paul an unexpected blow and he reacts like a jerk, ruining his shot with Karin, it’s obvious to everyone who knows them that she won’t be giving him a second chance. At least not in this lifetime. But when Paul can’t put her out of his mind as easily as he’d hoped, and his feelings for her keep growing more intense, he knows he has to stop running and find a way to make things right. He might be pushing his luck, but he’s determined to earn her trust again…and get that “re-do” that he wants so badly—even if it means letting go of his emotional lockdown and finally opening himself up. Karin Riley owns him, heart and soul, and he’s ready to do whatever it takes to win her back…and make her his.

  Pushing His Luck

  Chapter One

  Late March

  No matter how you looked at it, there was no getting around the sad fact that the guy was tall, dark and painfully gorgeous.

  As in one of the best-looking men she’d ever seen.

  Standing beside the roaring bonfire her cousin Chris had made on the beautiful stretch of beach in front of the condominium complex where they lived, Karin Riley tried not to notice how the flickering flames played over the rugged contours of Sean Cartwright’s handsome face and ripped, masculine body.

  God, I can’t believe I actually kissed him.

  Not Sean. No, he was taken, and he and his girlfriend, Natalie, had become good friends of hers since they’d started dating in the fall of last year. It was the sportswriter’s older brother—who looked so much like him it was uncanny—that she’d been crushing on for months…and then disastrously played tonsil hockey with two weeks ago. The one and only Paul Cartwright. Gorgeous San Diego PD homicide detective. A brave, heroic alpha male who the department put in front of the TV cameras as often as they could, but who also just so happened to be a complete and total ass.

  What the fuck was I thinking?

  Karin instantly cringed at the use of the F-word, even in her head. She had a seven-year-old son who repeated everything he heard, which meant she was constantly having to monitor her language. Not an easy thing to do, when the three-year anniversary of her divorce to the “douchebag from hell”—a.k.a. her ex—was fast approaching. It was all she’d been able to think about, until two weeks ago when Jase, her son, had been at her parents’ house for the night, same as he was now, and she’d accepted an invitation to Chris and Sophie’s first Friday-night bonfire.

  She and her cousin had both bought condos in the small, upscale complex a few years ago, after her divorce, and not long after their grandfather had passed away and graciously left them some money. She was so grateful to have Chris around, and so was Jase. He worshipped his Uncle Chris, who was always taking him down to the beach to kick around a soccer ball or giving him swimming lessons in the pool, and it’d been great to see her little boy have such a positive male influence in his life. Especially since his dad, Ben, who was nine years older than Karin, had celebrated his midlife crisis by fucking his twenty-year-old receptionist…and then shacking up with her.

  She wouldn’t give up her precious baby boy for anything in the world, but Karin had long since realized that the best thing she could have done was break things off with Ben the moment she got pregnant, doing the single mom thing from the beginning. Marrying the jackass had been the worst mistake of her life.

  Kissing Paul Cartwright and agreeing to go on a date with the gorgeous bastard had apparently been a close second.

  There were about twenty people gathered on the beach for the get-together, many of them ones she recognized as people who either worked with Sophie and Chris, or were Chris’s surfing buddies. She forced a smile onto her lips when she spotted Sophie heading over to her. Soph was a beautiful, petite brunette scientist who worked at the research institute where Chris was the Head of Security, and the two had only just started dating last year, but were already madly in love and engaged. Chris was one of the best men Karin had ever known, and she couldn’t have been happier for him. Plus, she got an awesome friend in Sophie.

  “Hey, K. Love the sweater,” Sophie said, her fair cheeks flushed from the warmth of the fire despite the cool breeze blowing in off the nearby Pacific. Though the blush on Sophie’s cheeks could have also been from the kiss Chris had just planted on her lips before she’d headed over to Karin. “It looks amazing on you.”

  “Thanks, Soph. I found it at Peyton’s boutique on Tuesday.” Peyton Mitchell was Sean and Paul’s younger half-sister, and she owned a gorgeous little boutique in La Jolla, not far from the condominium complex where Karin lived. The sweater was a long, cashmere, charcoal gray cardigan, and Karin had fallen in love with it the second she saw it.

  “It was a great find. You look like a movie heroine, with the wind whipping it aroun
d your legs and your long hair flowing over your shoulders.” Sophie’s concerned gaze studied her expression, searching for proof that she was doing okay. After the Paul disaster, Karin had broken down in tears and confessed her humiliation to both Sophie and Natalie, who were long-time best friends, and they’d both been as confused as they were incensed. Even though Paul’s reputation as a man who enjoyed an active, casual sex life was well-known among his friends and family, neither of them could believe how he’d treated her. Unfortunately, it was all true.

  The facts of the matter were simple, if not excruciating. After months of flirting with her, two weeks ago Paul had finally made his move. As if he was a man on a mission, he’d headed straight toward her when he’d arrived at the bonfire, and had stayed by her side the entire night, every second of the evening like a freaking dream. His deep, husky voice had given her chills as they’d talked and laughed, the conversation so easy it was unreal. And then there’d been the smoldering heat in his beautiful blue eyes, only a shade darker than his brother’s, the way he’d looked at her making her heart pound with excitement and disbelief.

  And when everyone had finally called it a night, he’d held her freaking hand as he’d walked her up to her condo, his thumb rubbing seductively against her palm. He hadn’t asked to come inside when they reached her front door, no doubt picking up on her nervous hesitation. But it hadn’t stopped him from pressing her against the door and kissing the hell out of her.

  God, the man kissed like…like it was his goddamn job. The thing he’d been born for. Forget fighting crime and putting away the scum of the earth. Paul Cartwright should be set up with a professional kissing booth, doing his part to make sexual fantasies come to life. His lips had been deliciously warm and soft and his tongue… Wow, even though she now thought he was a jerk, she still got a little lightheaded just thinking about the way his sleek tongue had rubbed against hers, the suggestive strokes making it impossible not to imagine how it would feel to have that clever tongue licking between her legs.

  When he’d finally broken the kiss with a ragged breath—one strong hand threaded through her hair, the other one placed possessively on her hip—he’d looked her right in the eye and asked if she would have dinner with him the following Friday night.

  She’d said yes.

  He’d said he had her number, and that he would call her to set up the details, but to plan on him picking her up at seven.

  Then he’d lifted the hand on her hip and rubbed the callused pad of his thumb over the sensitive curve of her lower lip, the look in his eyes molten and hungry as he lowered his head and kissed her again. The kiss had sent dizzying waves of raw, dark pleasure pulsing through her body, until he’d suddenly pulled back and gruffly told her to go inside before he forgot how to act like a gentleman. And then…well, she hadn’t heard from him again. She’d even caved and texted him so he’d be sure to have her correct number, in case it had somehow gotten messed up in his phone—as if that kind of thing actually happened. But despite her app saying that he’d read her message, he never called. Never texted back. And she felt like the biggest freaking tool on the planet.

  “You want a drink?” Sophie asked, jarring Karin from her heated, but humiliating thoughts. “Chris stocked the cooler with beer, white wine and your favorite pink G&Ts.”

  “I’d love a pink gin,” she said, plastering a huge fake smile on her face as she wrapped the long gray cardigan tighter around her body, the wind seeping right through the denim of her cut-off jeans.

  “Coming right up, buttercup.”

  As Karin watched Sophie make her way over to the cooler, she was struck again by how lucky she was to have Sophie and Natalie in her life now. She’d met Ben while she was still a college student, and after she’d graduated, she’d lost all contact with her school friends—the ones he was always jealous of her spending time with—which had made her marriage unbearably lonely. So it was awesome the way that Sophie and Natalie had taken her in. She was even part of their group texts, which was how she’d known Paul would be at the bonfire two weeks ago, since he was on one of the group chats as well.

  When she’d seen him text that he would drop by that first bonfire after work, she’d found herself spending just that extra bit of time getting ready. Curls in her hair, which she’d been letting grow out since her divorce and was now past her shoulders, along with extra mascara on her eyelashes. She’d even worn the new knit top she’d found on sale that Natalie said made her boobs look amazing, along with a spritz of her favorite perfume that was so pricy, she only allowed herself to use it on special occasions.

  After Paul had left that night, she’d immediately called Sophie and Natalie on a group FT to share the shocking news that he’d asked her out on a date. She’d been so freaking excited she’d nearly cried, which made the humiliation of being stood up all the worse.

  Her friends had been furious when Paul had failed to show for their date, adding insult to injury when he never even texted her with an explanation or apology. She’d given him until Sunday morning, and then she’d promised herself she was done, determined to forget he even existed.

  “Are you sure Paul isn’t coming tonight?” she murmured to Sophie, when her friend returned with her drink.

  Sophie’s freckled nose scrunched in distaste, a clear sign that she was still pissed at Paul too. “Yeah, I’m sure. Nat told me that Sean called him earlier today, and he said he couldn’t make it.”

  She exhaled a loud sigh of relief, then took a sip of her drink, determined to find a way to relax and enjoy herself. She was thirty-two years old, for God’s sake. A mom and a successful graphic artist who owned her own business. She had better things to do than sit around and mope over what a jackass Paul Cartwright had turned out to be.

  As Sophie sank into one of the beach chairs that faced hers, her friend grumbled, “I still can’t believe he acted like such a douche.”

  She inwardly cringed, hating to think about that night—and wishing like hell that she could wipe the memory of it from her mind.

  Cheating husband? Yeah, that had hurt. But it had hardly been a surprise. Not by the time she’d discovered it with her own two eyes.

  But getting duped by Paul Cartwright after he’d made her feel like a crushed-out teen? God, her ego might never recover.

  Sliding Sophie a wry smile, she said, “It’s fine.”

  “The fuck it is.”

  The smile fell off her lips, and she didn’t bother arguing. Shit had definitely gotten real when sweet Sophie started dropping F-bombs, but then, both Soph and Nat knew how excited she’d been when Paul had asked her out…and how crushed when he’d ghosted her.

  “We haven’t seen him at all since the last time we were all together.” Sophie gave a soft, feminine snort. “He’s probably afraid that Chris will pound on him if he shows his face around here.”

  She blanched. “God, I hope not. Chris doesn’t need to waste his time on the jerk. And I don’t think people can just go around hitting cops. There’s probably some kind of law about it.”

  “True. But if anyone deserves a busted lip”—Sophie sounded surprisingly bloodthirsty—“it’s Paul.”

  She gave a quiet, if not hollow laugh in response, and Sophie finally took mercy on her by changing the subject and asking about the new corporate client she was working for. With drinks in hand, they settled into a lively conversation, like they always did, while the bluesy sounds of a classic rock station filled the air. Natalie showed up about a half hour later, after finishing her shift at Manolo’s, the restaurant where she worked in Del Mar, and she was quick to grab a drink, kiss the hell out of Sean, and then make her way over to join them.

  The three of them were still sitting there an hour later, laughing as they watched Chris, Sean and a guy named Steve competing to see who could do the most knee volleys with a soccer ball, when Natalie’s eyes shot wide as she stared over Karin’s shoulder, her Hollywood-starlet features pulling into a fierce scowl. “Oh, hel
l no. That son of a fucking bitch,” she snarled, quickly moving to her feet.

  “What’s wrong?” Sophie asked, her breath sucking in on a sharp gasp as she stood up and looked over Karin’s other shoulder. “Oh no,” Sophie whispered, her worried gaze swiftly locking with Karin’s, and she knew, without even looking, that it was going to be Paul.

  She just hadn’t realized how bad it actually was until she twisted around in her chair and took a look for herself.

  Yep, it was Paul all right. And he wasn’t alone.

  Pressing her hand against the center of her chest, where her heart had started thumping like a caged bull, Karin soaked in the sight of him. Despite being a thirty-seven-year-old detective, he looked more like a young California surfer at the moment, with his wind-tousled hair, tanned skin and beard stubble, dressed in board shorts and a thin gray T-shirt. Casual, but painfully gorgeous. God, even when he was obviously drunk off his ass, he looked mouthwatering.

  And the blonde clinging to his side—dressed in a minuscule bikini top and short shorts—looked almost identical to the woman Karin had walked in on her ex screwing in his office.

  Honestly, what were the freaking odds?

  It was like a bad case of déjà vu—only somehow even more painful. Probably because by the time she’d found Ben balls-deep in his perky receptionist, he’d already managed to kill everything she’d ever felt for him. Whereas Paul… Yeah, she wasn’t even going to travel down that road in her head, because it sure as hell wasn’t going to lead to anyplace good.