Undeniably Unexpected (Boston's Irresistible Billionaires, #6)

by J. Saman

“Hi!” she sings in return and does a little twirl, her hands up as she gestures toward the sky. “Can you believe it? Sunshine.” “It’s beautiful. Just like you.” It slips out, and I realize how it sounds. Flirty. Suggestive. Something that doesn’t go missed.

“Does that explain why you walk into my home looking like you just lost Survivor?” Stone questions Vander. “Seriously, brother,” Mason chimes in. “If I hadn’t recognized your voice, I’d never have known it was you. I can see that grizzly beard twitching from here. If you pull a rat out of there and pet him like he’s yours, I’m gonna toss you right out. My wife’s pregnant, and rodents aren’t safe for that.”

Our history isn’t who we are, it’s who we were. It’s one facet that tells our story, and most of us use it as a steppingstone and learning curve on our way.”

I don’t like storms. Not even a little. I’m sure most people don’t, but I’m stuck on an island in the damn ocean, and if that isn’t scary as fuck, I don’t know what is.

id be the same goddamn way. I HATE storms.

“Keegan Fritz, I think you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Everything about you does it for me. Look into my eyes and dare to call me a liar.”

“Fuck it.” “Fuck it?” I squeak hastily. “What does that mean?” “It means I’m going to kiss you so good we’ll both forget all the reasons why this is a bad idea.”

There’s so much beauty and potential in this world, all we have to do is be open to accepting it.

“But I guess what I’m trying to rather inarticulately say is that I don't want this to be fake anymore. I want it to be real. I want us to be real. I want you to be mine because I’m already yours.”

The problem with happiness is that it creates something to lose.

“Mrs. Fritz, how do you feel about your granddaughter’s secret career as a smut writer?” Loomis must hear because his eyes turn into slits. I adjust my position and bend so he can see and hear it too. “I believe the proper term is romance author,” my grandmother snaps despite her polished Queen of Boston smile. “And I couldn’t be prouder of her. I have all of her books sitting on my shelves. Keegan is a talented and incredible woman. She’s a doctor and a published author. How many of you standing here can say that? Demeaning what is a respected and valued profession and form of artistic expression is unacceptable in any capacity.”

“Do you love me?” she asks plainly, her eyes brimming with fresh tears, and I can’t handle them. I can’t see her falling apart at my hands. I want to fix this for all of us, and I’m trying to, but she’s making it so damn impossible. “More than anything,” I tell her because I can’t lie. I can’t say no. I just fucking can’t. Even if maybe I should. “Awesome. I love you too, so how about we stop this bullshit and figure it out together?”

You tell him baby girl

“You’d break your contract?” “In a heartbeat. I will not work with a man who is threatening my family.”

“Keegan Fritz is amazing. A brilliant doctor and an incredibly talented author. Any other word to describe her career as a writer is frankly unacceptable and disgusting. If she chooses to refer to her books as smut, that’s her prerogative, but to demean someone’s art simply to be crude or try to debase them is detestable.”