Rock Solid

  Opposites ignite...

  Champion stock car driver Brody Palmer’s bad-boy reputation has forced him into early retirement. What no one knows is that his “retirement” is actually a publicity stunt. All Brody has to do is clean up his act and settle down. Unfortunately, every single woman with a pulse is now gunning to become the new Mrs. Palmer.

  Hannah Morgan needs to shake things up, and Brody is the best way to do just that. So they strike a deal—a fake relationship...with all of the sexy strings included! Brody gets his improved image, and Hannah gets a whole lot more of Brody’s unpredictable wildness. Hot days, hotter nights—it’s the perfect plan! Provided, of course, they don’t do something to wreck it, like fall for each other...

  She tried to say his name...but no words came out.

  Brody stood in the doorway looking equally shocked to see her after so long. His green eyes seemed glued to her. His six-foot-plus frame filled the space. He hadn’t shaved. Mussed brown hair that had been cut shorter when she’d been with him had sprouted waves, and a few curls brushed his neck behind his ears. His jaw was strong, but tense. His lips, as tempting as ever.

  Then his face broke into a welcoming smile, his eyes warming from surprise to pleasure. Hannah didn’t have a chance to move away as he encompassed her in a bear hug. Soon, those delectable lips were all over hers.

  His beard scratched her a little, but Hannah was so blindsided by the unexpected embrace that she held on for dear life, her internal temperature skyrocketing as Brody’s tongue parted her lips and sought out hers.

  Stop this, her brain said.

  Just one more minute, her very happy heart argued. It was like getting a charge from a lightning bolt.

  She couldn’t help but smile into his kiss. This was Brody.

  He was never what she expected. But it was always good...

  Dear Reader,

  If you have read I’ll Be Yours for Christmas (and if you haven’t, go get it right now!), you met racing champion Brody Palmer and accountant Hannah Morgan in the subplot of that book. When I sent these two off on a wild month in Daytona, I knew there was more to the story—what happened after that month? So Rock Solid came to be. Though not easily; these characters made sure I found the right story for them.

  Writers talk about their characters making decisions about the book, and I’d never experienced that, exactly...until I wrote Hannah and Brody. When Brody made his big plot move in the middle of the book, I didn’t even see it coming, let alone poor Hannah. He really is a wild man, and he surprised us both with his daring ways. Watching him grow from a playboy into the solid man that Hannah loves was an adventure in itself.

  If you want to chat about Rock Solid, or any of my Harlequin Blaze books, you can find me on Twitter or Facebook most days, and I’d love to hear from you.

  Samantha Hunter

  Samantha Hunter

  Rock Solid

  Samantha Hunter lives in Syracuse, New York, where she writes full-time for Harlequin. When she’s not plotting her next story, Sam likes to work in her garden, quilt, cook, read and spend time with her husband and their dogs. Most days you can find Sam chatting on the Harlequin Blaze boards at Harlequin.com, or you can check out what’s new, enter contests or drop her a note at her website, samanthahunter.com.

  Books by Samantha Hunter

  Harlequin Blaze

  Talking in Your Sleep...

  Hard to Resist

  Caught in the Act

  Make Your Move

  I’ll Be Yours for Christmas

  Mine Until Morning

  Straight to the Heart

  Yours for the Night

  Hers for the Holidays

  His Kind of Trouble

  Unforgettable

  Unexpected Temptation

  “Holiday Rush” in Wild Holiday Nights

  Visit the Author Profile page at

  Harlequin.com for more titles

  Thank you to Brandi H, who was named in this book in gratitude for her generous donation to the 2013 Brenda Novak Auction.

  Many friends saw me through a long

  winter when the writing was difficult, most specifically the ladies at Chocolate Box Writers (chocolateboxwriters.com) who fielded many emails from me with grace, patience and a multitude of helpful suggestions. You are all amazing. Lucky me.

  Brilliant writers Anne Calhoun and Serena Bell, who read the manuscript at various stages, brainstormed and also helped me figure out what wasn’t working and what was—amid their own very busy schedules. So many hugs to you.

  Cari Quinn offered companionship and a lot of laughs and motivation during working lunches at Panera. She also thinks it’s funny when I talk back to my book—out loud.

  And always, for Mike—for everything you do,

  thank you is never enough.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Excerpt

  Prologue

  “I’M NOT RETIRING,” Brody said definitively. “You asked me to think about it, and I thought about it. The answer is no.”

  Jud Harris, the lead publicist and marketing liaison for the corporate sponsor who had made his racing possible for the past five years, leaned in.

  “Brody, I’m afraid it’s not optional at this point. After that fiasco at the club, it was all I could do to talk the heads of the company into keeping you on at all. You need to play ball and seriously clean up your act.”

  Play ball. Yeah, right. Brody curled his fists under the table, trying to control his anger as he kept his voice level.

  “I’ve got a pretty healthy bank account, Jud. I can finance my own car and team.”

  It would probably take everything he had, but he could manage it for a year or two, until he could get another sponsor.

  If you can get another sponsor, a traitorous doubt in his brain taunted.

  “C’mon, Brody, we drop you, it looks bad. Your other, smaller sponsors would follow. We’ve put up with a lot over the years, but now we need to do damage control. We’re just asking you to lie low for a while. Stay out of trouble and the gossip pages.”

  Brody bit out a curse, knowing Jud was right. Sponsorship was about more than money, as well—sponsors were a part of the team’s image and a vote of confidence. They also created community—people who worked for or were customers of that sponsor supported the car and the team.

  “I told you why I was there—”

  “It doesn’t matter what really happened. It matters how it showed up in the news.”

  Brody stood, needing to get some distance before he really lost his temper. He knew what Jud said was true, and that was what was eating at him.

  He’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time, helping a friend—a married friend—who’d called from a notorious kink club, too drunk to drive. Reporters who hung around those places waiting for a story revealed Brody coming out of the club at three in the morning.

  He was judged in the eyes of the media, and caught in a situation where he couldn’t reveal his real reason for being there. Not publicly. He didn�
��t care as much about protecting his friend, who shouldn’t have been there in the first place, as he did the three kids the guy had at home. They didn’t need to see their father’s picture on the news. Not like that.

  So Brody let the public think what they wanted.

  The playboy image he’d earned over the years meant it would be passed off as one more chapter in the story of wild Brody Palmer.

  Jud took his silence as possible receptivity and continued to press.

  “Besides, it’s not actual retirement, we’ll just play it that way to the press. It will amp up interest. Your fans love you. They’ll miss you and want you back. Then you return, we build it up and it’s a big deal. It’s been done before, in a lot of sports.”

  “And what am I supposed to do in the meantime?”

  “You settle down. Maybe find a nice girl and get married...or at least engaged. You can always break it off later. We’ll stage your comeback, you’ll come back the season after next, bigger than ever. The game is changing, Brody. People are more family oriented these days. Your lifestyle... Well, we have to protect the brand. Our brand,” Jud said firmly.

  Brody thought his head would explode as Jud kept talking. He’d always enjoyed himself—in the car, he was all business, but in his life, he did what he wanted. He made his own rules. Until now.

  Racing was his life. Driving was like breathing to him. The idea of losing it... He couldn’t let that happen.

  If the sponsor bailed, it would affect the whole team. This wasn’t only about him. Other livelihoods, reputations and futures were on the line, as well. They might be able to move to other work, but not right away. And not all of them.

  “You’ll keep paying the team salaries?” Brody interrupted.

  “Absolutely. We’ll say it’s part of your retirement deal that they are paid out for the season, but they can’t know the truth. No one can. If this gets out, it would be a mess for everyone. Understand? Then the deal’s off, period.”

  Brody nodded.

  “Trust me,” Jud said. “This will work. But you need to do your part and really change your behavior. Ten years ago, you could get away with this stuff, but people are less willing to accept it now.”

  Yeah, he understood. He had to stop racing for a year and lie to everyone he knew. Brody understood just fine. It didn’t sit well. There were some lines he didn’t cross: he didn’t sleep with married women, he never broke a promise and he didn’t lie. He had enough other vices to keep him in the news, but those were three he’d always held true, until now.

  Every bone in his body rejected the idea, but he had to think of his team and his future. It was only one season, and then he would come back, stronger than ever.

  He’d make sure of it.

  “Fine. Draw up the paperwork.”

  Brody walked out the door before he even heard Jud’s reply, but when he made his way out of the office building in downtown Manhattan, he stood on the sidewalk, feeling lost. Blending himself into the crowd on the street, he couldn’t help but wonder: What the heck was he going to do with himself for the next year?

  1

  HANNAH MORGAN SAT alone in a dimly lit Atlanta bar, a plate of ribs sitting untouched to her left, a bottle of beer to her right, and her laptop opened directly in front of her. Growling in frustration at the laptop, she pushed it away to grab the ribs and dig in.

  Quitting her accounting job had seemed like the right thing to do two months ago, but now she was having serious doubts. At the time, she’d been passed over for yet another promotion and had finally asked her boss why she was always being rejected for promotions at the firm she’d always given her best to.

  You play it too safe to handle the bigger clients, Hannah, her boss had told her. They need someone who can think outside the box, find creative solutions.

  Too safe?

  She hadn’t been aware that being sensible or responsible was a bad thing in financial management, she fumed for the thousandth time as she tore into a rib.

  Well, she’d shown them. She’d quit. That was hardly playing it safe, right? Neither was taking off around the country to explore her options and try to start a new career. Now she was operating completely outside the box.

  Take that, she grumped as she licked the spicy, smoky sauce from her fingers and then took another from the plate. She’d missed lunch while working on her photo blog, Hannah’s Great Adventure, which so far hadn’t been very adventurous at all.

  It wasn’t that she hadn’t tried, but adventure and risk taking had never come naturally to her.

  She eyed the few comments she did have on her blog.

  Nice.

  Pretty.

  Then there was the one that asked if she had any pictures of herself, and when would she come to his town?

  Ugh. That was not the kind of adventure she was looking for.

  Unfortunately, though she was active on social media and always posting on her blog, traffic was low. But she was still new at this, right? It would take time to establish and make a name for herself.

  Sighing, she pushed the plate aside and bolstered her resolve as she pulled the laptop back, front and center. At least she could finish an assignment for the online writing course she was taking. Years as an accountant had left her writing skills somewhat rusty.

  Just as her concentration took hold, someone slid into the seat opposite her.

  “You don’t like the ribs?”

  A gorgeous guy, complete with a sexy Southern accent and a wicked smile, looked at her inquiringly, making her mind stutter for a moment.

  “Um, no, they’re wonderful,” she replied, and then saw the shirt he was wearing had the name of the bar stamped over one well-defined pectoral muscle.

  “Well, I thought I should check, as you pushed the plate away. I have to make sure customers are satisfied, especially the pretty ones,” he said with a sexy wink, making her laugh.

  He was flat-out gorgeous and charming to boot. And flirting with her. Suddenly her blog wasn’t all that interesting.

  “Thanks,” she said, cringing inwardly as she wished she was a better flirt.

  “My name’s Jarvis,” he said, holding his hand out. “You work nearby? Or are you a student at the university?” He looked at the laptop inquiringly.

  She took his hand, finding his grasp pleasant and warm, strong but not smothering. Hannah let him hold on for another second or two, and liked the gentle squeeze he offered at the end.

  “Neither. I’m a photojournalist. Well, I want to be one. It was something I wanted to do in college, but never followed through on. So I’m taking a year to travel the country to explore, to...blog. Try to develop, you know, a focus...or something,” she said, realizing she was babbling and stopping before she made a real fool of herself. This guy wasn’t really interested in her life history, she was sure.

  “So you’re only passing through?” Jarvis asked with even more pronounced interest this time. Clearly not looking for commitment, which was fine with her.

  Hannah was about to respond when a sportscast from one of the televisions positioned all around the bar caught her eye, stealing her attention away from her companion.

  Brody.

  Supersize on the screen, the stock-car champion’s image still made her catch her breath. Well, former racing champion. It seemed as though there was always something around reminding her of him. A magazine cover, a news item or a fan wearing his number on a T-shirt or on a sticker on their car, even after his retirement six months ago.

  She couldn’t hear the story, but the picture they showed was from a year before, shortly after she’d parted ways with him. The headline noted five drivers who had recently left the track.

  “You’re into racing?” Jarvis asked, watching her watch Brody.

  Hannah tore her
gaze from the screen.

  “Oh, no, not so much. I... He’s a, um...a friend. But we haven’t seen each other in a while.”

  “You keep interesting company.”

  Once. Once, she’d kept company for a wild month with Brody Palmer, and it was one of the best experiences of her life. Her only true adventure, ever.

  She smiled at Jarvis, trying to get Brody out of her mind.

  Hannah didn’t have a whole lot of experience picking up men in bars, or letting them pick her up—but things were different now. Or at least, she wanted them to be.

  She focused on Jarvis. He was real, and right here in front of her. Not an image on TV or a memory from the past. Maybe the sexy bartender was exactly what she needed in order to make some new, adventurous memories.

  “I planned to leave tomorrow, but I’m flexible,” she said, proud of her own flirtatious innuendo, taking a sip of her beer and peeking at him over the top of her glass.

  Fifteen minutes later, they were kissing in his office.

  It turned out Jarvis owned the bar, which was an added bonus, since he had a very nice office with a delicious leather couch and a large desk. Hannah had a feeling they might make use of both. Right now, he was wrapped around her with his warm, strong hands finding their way up to her bra strap.

  Jarvis moved fast, and Hannah let him, trying to enjoy what this hot guy was doing to her and not letting the image of Brody’s face on the TV screen—and the memories of his kiss, and his touch—ruin her fun.

  But it was too late.

  All she could think of was Brody. What was he doing since he retired? She’d considered contacting him, but it didn’t seem wise.

  As Jarvis was trailing his lips lower, her mind wandered.

  Maybe Brody would like to see an old friend? Maybe...he could help her out? Be her first real, exciting story for her blog?

  Why not? She was trying to write about something exciting—and the most exciting person she’d ever known was only about eight hours away.