If you haven’t read Fighting for Everything you’ll want to get on that, because the next book in the Warrior Fight Club series, Fighting for What’s His is out tomorrow!
I am huge fan of Fighting for Everything, which came out this past May, and I have been dying to get my hands on the next book in the series. The short release date delay from August to September is over and everyone can finally get their hands on this next chapter of the Warrior Fight Club series.
Do you need a little refresher of what to expect from Fighting for What’s His? Try this:
This fight club has one rule: you must be a veteran…
Resisting her only makes him want her more…
Private investigator Billy Parrish is good at three things—fighting, investigating, and sex. MMA training with the other vets in the Warrior Fight Club keeps his war-borne demons at bay—mostly, and one night stands ensure no one gets too close. But then his best friend from the Army Rangers calls in a favor.
Shayna Curtis is new to town, fresh out of grad school, and full of hope for the future. With a new job starting in a month, she’s grateful when her brother arranges a place for her to stay while she apartment hunts. But she never expected her roommate to be so brooding. Or so sexy.
Billy can’t wait for Shay to leave—because the longer she’s there, the more he wants her in his bed. To stay. He can’t have her—that much he knows. But when fight club stops taking off the edge, Billy lets down his guard…and starts fighting for what’s his.
Ready for your ‘Fighting for What’s His’ excerpt?
First, a little message from Laura…
I’m so excited to share Fighting for What’s His, because this story has a whole lot of things I love:
A sexy, bad-ass veteran hero!
A feisty and independent heroine who won’t hesitate to stand up for herself!
A forbidden, best friend’s younger sister conflict which is always so delicious!
A forced-proximity roommates-to-lovers situation that creates all kinds of sexual tension!
Check, check, check, and check! Want more reasons to grab this book? Enjoy this excerpt:
Billy beckoned Shayna to follow him downstairs for dinner. Which gave her the opportunity to really take him in. While she’d dressed, he’d removed the brown bomber-style jacket he’d had on, revealing just how much freaking justice he did to a pair of blue jeans. Because lordy did he fill them out nicely. His white T-shirt was plain but highlighted the breadth of his shoulders and the bulk of his biceps. It was only once they got downstairs that she noticed his feet were bare.
His look was at once nothing special and crazy hot because this was how he looked when he was just chilling at home and not even putting in an effort to make panties drop. Yet, drop they still metaphorically did. She bit back a smile.
He went to the double ovens and set them to preheating, and then gathered flour, sugar, salt, a bottle of olive oil, and some dry yeast from the cabinets. Next, he collected mixing bowls and measuring spoons. He laid everything out in neat, precise rows. Shay stared as he moved about, obviously comfortable in the kitchen. “I thought you were going to order out.”
He shrugged with one big shoulder. “Mine’s better, Goldilocks.”
Shayna rolled her eyes even as the confidence in his tone drew a smile from her. “All righty, then.” She rested her elbows on the counter and watched him start on the dough. “If I’m Goldilocks, who are you?”
Billy smirked. “Papa Bear. Obviously.”
“Oh, obviously,” she said mockingly, earning a wink from him. It was either mock or stammer in an embarrassment she didn’t quite understand. At least she hadn’t blushed, which given how fair she was, happened often enough. “Can I help?”
His dark-eyed gaze lifted to hers, and he gave a single nod. “Suit yourself. Grab the cans of tomato sauce and paste from the pantry.” He nodded his head toward the cabinet. “And then the spices are next to the stove. We need the dried oregano and onion powder. I’ll mince the garlic and chop the basil while the yeast stands.”
“I’ll have you know that you’re putting my pride in being able to make a mean bagel pizza to shame right now,” Shay said as she collected everything.
“A decade of missed meals and MREs makes a man crave something real, something homemade.”
She nodded, a little niggle taking up root in her belly. Because her brother was still out there. Still going places and doing things that he could never tell her about. Still sacrificing his comfort and his time. Still putting himself in harm’s way. No homemade meals in sight.
“Ryan lives and breathes it, Shay. He loves what he’s doing. Don’t you worry about him,” Billy said in low voice. He tossed an observing glance her way, then got busy starting the sauce.
Shayna blinked. How had he known? She didn’t ask, though, because as a former Ranger himself, Billy had insight into her brother’s life that Ryan himself would never give her. Would he share it with her? “Did he say that?”
“He didn’t have to.”
“Was that what it was like for you?” she asked.
A muscle ticked in the side of that angled jaw, and the knife with which he chopped the basil thunked-thunked harder against the cutting board. For a moment she thought he wasn’t going to answer. And then he did. “It was.”
Was. As he’d moved about, she’d seen a small stretch of scarring that ran up his neck and under his shirt. Her gaze trailed over the tee again, and she wondered just how extensive his scars were from the burns he’d suffered in an explosion. An explosion that he and Ryan had survived but that a lot of the other Rangers in their squad hadn’t. That was all she knew, and it’d taken her a lot of coaxing to get Ryan to share that much with her.
Silence rang loud in the room, clearly communicating that it wasn’t something about which he wanted to talk. She regretted asking and searched her mind for something to lighten the mood, watching as he combined the sauce ingredients in a blender. “Have you always been good at cooking?”
A single shake of his head. “My mom came to stay with me for a few months. After I was discharged.”
So much for changing the topic, because she heard what he didn’t say. That his mom had come to help him as he recovered…for a few months. Just how bad had his injuries been? “If you cook this good, she must be amazing.”
It was his first genuine smile since their unfortunate reunion upstairs. “She is,” he said. “Could whip up a fantastic meal and whip me into shape with one hand tied behind her back.”
The affection in his voice was utterly charming. “That’s impressive,” Shay said with a chuckle.
He smirked. “It really is because I was a damn handful when I was growing up.”
Shayna grinned. “Oh, so you’re not a handful anymore?”
He gave her the strangest look, and then burst into a speechless guffaw.
Heat absolutely flooded Shay’s face. Oh. My. God. Did she seriously just ask him if he was a handful? “That’s…that’s not what I meant!”
Grinning like a shithead, he turned the blender on high. One hand on his hip and the other on the blender, he yelled, “What? I can’t hear you!”
“Yeah, yeah,” she said, feigning indignance. “Obviously you answered the question about whether you’ve grown up. In the negative.” Of course, she deserved whatever crap he gave her, because she’d walked right into that. And mostly she didn’t really mind, since it seemed to have chased away the tension that her earlier question had caused.
He hit the stop button on the blender, and his tone was full of amusement. “You can’t lob a man a softball and not expect him to swing for the fence. Or at least want to…” His mood seemed much lighter as he finished the dough, divided it into two balls, and spread it out on two pizza pans. Then he made quick work of cleaning up after himself, leaving his workspace nearly spotless. Meanwhile, part of the reason Shayna disliked cooking was because she made such a mess. “Now for the fun part. What do you want on it?”
“Surprise me,” she said. “I like almost everything.”
“Mmm, an adventurous girl, I see,” he said, gathering the mozzarella, pepperoni, and a few vegetables from the fridge.
Shayna couldn’t resist giving him a hard time, just to try to make him laugh again. “Woman.”
“What?”
“I’m twenty-six, after all. An adventurous woman,” she said, arching a single, teasing brow.
But laughter was decidedly not his reaction. His gaze flashed suddenly and tantalizingly hot, and he gave her body a slow onceover before his eyes met hers again. Shayna felt his perusal as if it had been a physical caress. Heat bloomed over her. Was he seeing her as she was, standing there in leggings and a sweater? Or was he seeing her as she’d been earlier, flushed from her shower and pressed up against a door?
Because it sure as heck didn’t seem like he saw her as the girl whose teenage infatuation had often left her hanging on his every word. And she wasn’t at all sure what to do with the possibility that her unattainable teenage crush…might find her attractive in return.