“I love Kate Meader’s books!”—Kelly Jamieson
Aubrey Gates is the hottest divorce lawyer in Chicago, a barb-tongued stiletto with legs that go on for miles. When her cool gray eyes meet mine across the battlefield, I want her like I’ve never wanted anyone or anything. Then I remember who she is: the woman who brought me to my knees. The woman who destroyed my faith in relationships.
The woman I used to call . . . wife.
And she needs a favor from me, Grant Lincoln.
It seems my ex forgot to mention the demise of our marriage to her dear old grammy, and now we’re both expected to attend her ninetieth birthday party. In Boston. And because it isn’t already awkward enough, Aubrey and I are driving there together from Chicago. That’s more than a thousand miles of tension, heartbreak, and barely concealed lust.
A little piece of paper might say we’re over, but this road trip is the true test. I intend to get my wife back . . . and I won’t stop until “I do.”
Kate Meader’s super-sexy Laws of Attraction novels can be read together or separately:
DOWN WITH LOVE • ILLEGALLY YOURS • THEN CAME YOU
My second dirty martini appears before I’ve finished my first. I turn to find him at the end of the bar, and my breath catches just as it did that first day I saw him in the lecture hall. How does he do it? More to the point, how dare he do it?
He raises his beer bottle—Budweiser, Grant doesn’t care for anything crafty—and gives me that slow, shy smile, the one guaranteed to heat me from the inside out and make my panties slip an inch or two. These days, it takes more than that for the full-scale underwear drop. I’ve become more circumspect in my old age.
I raise my glass back and shift my thigh so my skirt rides up a little. It’s deliberate, an invitation. In a few seconds, the seat beside me is host to the most excellent ass I’ve ever had the pleasure of fondling. To think those gorgeous buns were all mine for the exploring and gripping and biting—
Hold up there, Gates.
There will be no butt-grabbing or ass-nibbling shenanigans with your ex-husband!
But said ex-husband has always had a way with words. “Want to screw ourselves stupid in my hotel room?”
I almost choke on an olive. A resounding clap on the back coughs it up from my throat, whereupon I deposit it on a napkin. First off, I give it an accusing glare as if that spherical blob is to blame for the less than sophisticated response to what I just heard.
“Ever heard of foreplay?”
He raises an eyebrow. “Seven hours in the car with your whining cat. All the foreplay I need.”
I laugh my head off. The muscles in my belly constrict, questioning this burst of energy, and I realize it’s been a long time since I let loose like this.
“All right, all right, let’s try again,” he drawls. “Waiting for someone?”
“Yeah, my date. He’s stuck in traffic.”
“Not a boyfriend, then?”
I give him a look, then a sharper one at his Budweiser bottle, playing like he’s beneath me.
“He’ll be here any moment. Weather, y’know.”
“Probably a good idea not to have him pick you up at your place.”
“Oh?”
“He would’ve had to take you, there and then, just inside the door. Lift that skirt and slip in deep and true.”
Just like one of our dates back in ancient times. I abstain from picking up my martini because my hand will shake all that precious alcohol onto the bar.
“I already told you there’d be no funny business, Grant. It’s just too complicated.”
“But you’re not denying that it’s crossed your mind.”
“Hard not to. Sex was never an issue between us. You’re still reasonably attractive, and I’m not dead.”
If anything, he’s become hotter in the last year. Perhaps it’s the slight sadness I imagine in his eyes whenever we meet. Melancholy shouldn’t be so sexy.
“So the only thing in the way is a boatload of history, recrimination, bitterness, and failure.” He sips his beer, a knowing lift to his eyebrow, all while keeping his eyes on me. “Just reasonably attractive, Bean?”
I shake my head. “Confidence was never your problem, Georgia.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I lost a little faith at one point.”
And there it is again, that wall between us that’s impossible to scale.
“Is this the point where I should apologize?”
“No,” he says immediately. “I’m not saying that to make you feel guilty, simply telling you where I’m coming from. We know each other too well to sugarcoat it.”
He’s right. But our familiarity with each other’s quirks and tics doesn’t make it any easier. If anything, it’s a millstone around our necks. We had something wonderful and it burned to an ash of regrets.
He raises his beer bottle—Budweiser, Grant doesn’t care for anything crafty—and gives me that slow, shy smile, the one guaranteed to heat me from the inside out and make my panties slip an inch or two. These days, it takes more than that for the full-scale underwear drop. I’ve become more circumspect in my old age.
I raise my glass back and shift my thigh so my skirt rides up a little. It’s deliberate, an invitation. In a few seconds, the seat beside me is host to the most excellent ass I’ve ever had the pleasure of fondling. To think those gorgeous buns were all mine for the exploring and gripping and biting—
Hold up there, Gates.
There will be no butt-grabbing or ass-nibbling shenanigans with your ex-husband!
But said ex-husband has always had a way with words. “Want to screw ourselves stupid in my hotel room?”
I almost choke on an olive. A resounding clap on the back coughs it up from my throat, whereupon I deposit it on a napkin. First off, I give it an accusing glare as if that spherical blob is to blame for the less than sophisticated response to what I just heard.
“Ever heard of foreplay?”
He raises an eyebrow. “Seven hours in the car with your whining cat. All the foreplay I need.”
I laugh my head off. The muscles in my belly constrict, questioning this burst of energy, and I realize it’s been a long time since I let loose like this.
“All right, all right, let’s try again,” he drawls. “Waiting for someone?”
“Yeah, my date. He’s stuck in traffic.”
“Not a boyfriend, then?”
I give him a look, then a sharper one at his Budweiser bottle, playing like he’s beneath me.
“He’ll be here any moment. Weather, y’know.”
“Probably a good idea not to have him pick you up at your place.”
“Oh?”
“He would’ve had to take you, there and then, just inside the door. Lift that skirt and slip in deep and true.”
Just like one of our dates back in ancient times. I abstain from picking up my martini because my hand will shake all that precious alcohol onto the bar.
“I already told you there’d be no funny business, Grant. It’s just too complicated.”
“But you’re not denying that it’s crossed your mind.”
“Hard not to. Sex was never an issue between us. You’re still reasonably attractive, and I’m not dead.”
If anything, he’s become hotter in the last year. Perhaps it’s the slight sadness I imagine in his eyes whenever we meet. Melancholy shouldn’t be so sexy.
“So the only thing in the way is a boatload of history, recrimination, bitterness, and failure.” He sips his beer, a knowing lift to his eyebrow, all while keeping his eyes on me. “Just reasonably attractive, Bean?”
I shake my head. “Confidence was never your problem, Georgia.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I lost a little faith at one point.”
And there it is again, that wall between us that’s impossible to scale.
“Is this the point where I should apologize?”
“No,” he says immediately. “I’m not saying that to make you feel guilty, simply telling you where I’m coming from. We know each other too well to sugarcoat it.”
He’s right. But our familiarity with each other’s quirks and tics doesn’t make it any easier. If anything, it’s a millstone around our necks. We had something wonderful and it burned to an ash of regrets.
As partners in Chicago’s premier law firm specializing in divorce, Max Henderson, Lucas Wright, and Grant Lincoln have witnessed humanity at its worst. Bitter fights. Heartbreaking custody battles. Hand-to-hand combat over who gets the Phil Collins CDs. So when love’s young dream burns to a pile of ash, you want one of these hot shots in your corner.
But what happens when the most cynical guys in the war against love find themselves on the battlefront—with their hearts in the line of fire?
Three men who think they know everything about marriage, relationships, and women will learn that, in fact, they don't know jack.
 | Sparks fly when the hot-shot divorce lawyer meets the high-powered wedding planner. The only question is, what kind? If you ever get married, remember my name: Max Henderson. In my line of work, you acquire a certain perspective on supposedly everlasting unions. . . . 1. Pre-nups are your friend. 2. The person you married is not the person you’re divorcing. 3. And I hope you didn’t spend much on the wedding because that was one helluva waste of hard-earned cash, wasn’t it? But some guys are willing to take a chance. Like my brother, who thinks he’s going to ride off into the sunset with the woman of his dreams in a haze of glitter on unicorns. And the wedding planner—the green-eyed beauty who makes a living convincing suckers to shell out thousands of dollars on centerpieces—is raking it in on this matrimonial monstrosity. The thing is, Charlie Love is not unlike me. We’re both cogs in the wedding-industrial complex. As the best man, I know her game—and I can play it better than her. But after one scorching, unexpected kiss, I’m thinking I might just want to get played. This ebook includes an excerpt from another Loveswept title. Advance praise for Down with Love “Charlie is adamant that it’s just a fling, while Max is surprised to find he’s interested in romance. . . . [Their] repartee, vivid sex scenes, and tongue-in-cheek approach to romance tropes make Max and Charlie’s journey worth following.”—Publishers Weekly “Fresh and funny, sexy and witty, Down with Love is everything I look for in a can’t-put-it-down read.”—New York Times bestselling author Julie Ann Walker “I love Kate Meader’s books! Witty banter, sexual chemistry, fun dialogue, and endearing characters—Down with Love has it all!”—USA Today bestselling author Kelly Jamieson “Hilarious, hot, and heartfelt! I was captivated by this fast-paced, funny, sexy book from the first page. Everything about this book was fantastic, and I’m already panting to get my hands on the next one!”—USA Today bestselling author Christi Barth “Charlie's sassy determination met Max's undeniable sex appeal and charm to create the most spectacular fireworks. Down with Love is the kind of story that gives all the feels and leaves you wanting more.”—Aliza Mann, author of Breaking His Rules |
 | Rule #1: Never fall for your client. Rule #2: Never fall for your client’s fiercely protective, smoking hot sister-in-law. I’m the kind of guy who believes that everyone deserves the best legal representation money can buy—which just so happens to be me, Lucas Wright. Give me your henpecked, your cuckolded, your irreconcilable differences yearning to break free! And if you’re the bad guy in your marriage, that’s cool too. Your green is as good as anyone’s. Tell that to Trinity Jones. It’s my job to destroy her sister—the soon-to-be ex-wife of my a-hole of a client—and Trinity’s “big sis” instincts are dialed up to the max. I admire that. I admire her. But she won’t stop me from representing my client to the best of my ability. Not even if my chemistry with Trinity is undeniable. Not even if we can’t keep our hands off each other. Not even if she injects life into a heart assumed to be long dead. Because when faced with a choice between love and duty, the job will always win—or at least that’s what I thought before I met Trinity . . . and suddenly conflict of interest never felt so right. Advance praise for Illegally Yours “Illegally Yours is funny, sexy, smart, and impossible to put down. I adored it.”—Serena Bell, USA Today bestselling author of Sleepover “Smart, sexy banter and fast-paced fun, Illegally Yours will keep you up far past your bedtime. The chemistry between Trinity and Lucas is off the charts. I loved this book!”—Kimberly Kincaid, USA Today bestselling author of the Station Seventeen series “Lengthy sex scenes, a hint of comedy, and a plot rich with character growth ensure Meader’s fans and newcomers will find something to love.”—Publishers Weekly “I absolutely loved this book. . . . The heart in the story makes you want the book to never end. . . . I highly suggest this romance.”—Jagged Edge Reviews (five stars) “This is my fifth [Kate] Meader book, and I think it’s my favorite. . . . An utterly delightful and heartwarming romance, which made me laugh a lot, and smile often.”—We Live and Breathe Books This ebook includes an excerpt from another Loveswept title. |
Originally from Ireland, Kate cut her romance reader teeth on Maeve Binchy and Jilly Cooper novels, with some Harlequins thrown in for variety. Give her tales about brooding mill owners, oversexed equestrians, and men who can rock an apron or a fire hose, and she's there. Now based in Chicago, she writes sexy contemporary romance with alpha heroes and strong heroines who can match their men quip for quip.
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