Love is a Battlefield: Games of Love, Book 1 Read Online Free PDF

Michael were seated on the hood of Kate’s car, a large indentation spreading out from under Michael’s body, which must have weighed well over two hundred pounds.
    “What did you think of the lay of the land?” Jada waggled her eyebrows suggestively.
    “It’s exactly what we need,” Kate replied, ignoring Michael’s deep chortle. He jumped off the car, and Kate was glad to see the hood bounce up underneath him.
    “It’s a state park, right, so it’s free to use?”
    “Technically, yes. It’s a non-reservable public space, so everyone has access to it,” Julian said. “But no one else ever comes here.”
    Michael waved his friend off. “It’s yours for the taking. The SHS does its annual event here every year, and some of the guys use it for practice, but we don’t own it. It’s a first come, first served sort of set up.”
    “Katy-did,” Jada interrupted, her mouth pulled down at the corners, a clear signal she was bored with the conversation. “I went ahead and took the liberty of inviting these gentlemen to join us in partaking of a few libations this evening.”
    “She means drinks,” Michael added helpfully.
    “I don’t think…” Kate began, looking sideways at Julian. It was obvious what Jada was angling after, and Kate was well-versed in her role. Entertain the friend, keep him happy while Jada laid on the charm. Normally, it didn’t bother her to be typecast as the distraction, but she’d never attempted it with someone like Julian before.
    “Sure,” Julian said with a shrug. He leaned back against the car and crossed his arms like it was a matter of supreme indifference whether they stayed there or got on a plane to Monaco.
    “You boys wanna meet us at Vixen’s Gin and Juke Joint in, say, an hour? They make a mean martini. Nice and dirty.” Jada growled for good effect.
    The men exchanged a glance. This time, Kate had no problem reading Julian’s expression—Jada couldn’t have chosen a less appropriate location than a martini bar for a pair of men dressed in athletic gear and sporting hands the size of small boulders. These men were not James Bond. They were the Hulk. They probably guzzled barrels full of ale. Or grog.
    “Fine,” Julian said, almost as though he were agreeing to a root canal. “We can meet you there.”
    “Well, I guess I’ll see you,” Kate said awkwardly, trying to ease the suddenly overwhelming pressure in her chest. She tried to make a quick escape to the car, but Julian stepped ahead of her. He pulled open the driver’s side door, offering her a small smile as she slid into the seat.
    “Drive carefully,” he said as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
    “I will,” she managed to say before he closed the door behind her.
    “Holy shit, Kate.” Jada got into the seat next to her, rubbing her hands together like a villain from a silent film. “Did you see the way that man looked at you?”
    She watched him move away. “You mean like I’m barely capable of walking on my own two feet?”
    “Oh, Katy-did. You have no idea.” Jada leaned over and turned the ignition, since Kate’s hands were ineffectively immobile, sweaty palms sealed at ten and two. “Like he was going to take his hammer and clobber you before dragging you back to his cave.”
    “What?”
    “In a good way, honey.” Jada smiled and patted Kate’s leg reassuringly. “In the best possible way ever.”  

Chapter Three
    Cúchulainn’s Might
    “Let’s not go yet. I need a few more throws.”
    Julian reached down and picked up the rustic hammer he’d left on the ground. It could hardly be called a hammer, really. A long, roughly hewn pole of wood attached to metal ball nicked with use, it was the standard instrument for the hammer-throw event. He’d been using this particular one for years, and he loved the way it rested in his hand, the way it made him look and feel, an ancient warrior who knew his own strength every time he held it.
    Four or five more throws