Read All Fired Up (Kate Meader) for Free Online

all wedding cakes, he’d move on to the next phase.
    Unfortunately Jack was not playing his part and Shane’s oh-so-brilliant plan was suddenly fraught with risk. Working with the guy was bad enough. In the last five minutes, he had signed on as his rugby teammate, though he knew dick about the game, and a dangerous camaraderie was simmering to a boil. Camaraderie led to friendship and respect and other dangerous, unnamable emotions.
    Accepting an offer to live here was a terrible idea. He opened his mouth to say so.
    “Oh, you’re here,” a soft voice husked out behind him.
    Shane turned to find Lili dumping a passel of shopping bags in the hallway before stumbling over them to come inside. She touched his arm gently and Shane’s maudlin musings faded in the brightness of her smile. Soft, curvy, and warm, Lili was impossible to dislike.
    “You’re going to take it, Shane?”
    “Sure he is. He loves the art work.” Jack shone a conspiratorial smile in Shane’s direction.
    Man, couldn’t you at least try to be more of a dick?
    Lili plunked down on the plush, well-worn sofa and kicked off her shoes. “I found this in an alley two blocks from here. Tad almost broke his back trying to get it up those stairs.” She chuckled, pleased that she’d put her cousin through such torturous exercise. “Good times.”
    She tilted her head up to Jack, who was still leaning against the kitchen table.
    “Good times here as well,” he said, his voice so low Lili’s face flamed the color of steamed lobster.
    “Jack,” she murmured.
    “Lili,” he murmured right back.
    Shane rocked back on his heels, realization dawning.
    “You guys have christened every stick of furniture, then?”
    “Shane!” Lili’s hand flew to her still-pinked cheek.
    “Well, the coffee table wasn’t really conducive,” Jack said to Shane. “Not that we didn’t give it the old college try.”
    Lili’s embarrassment gave way to a laugh, and as Jack joined in, Shane felt he had earned the right to as well. A warm glow filled him up, washing through his veins, tapping into wells of emotion he had thought long dry. This is a terrible idea, the voice of reason repeated, but it was a faint echo now.
    A movement in the hallway caught his attention.
    “Lili, there are still eleven million bags in the car— Oh, what’s going on here?”
    The laughing tableau was shattered by the appearance of Cara, her slim silhouette between the doorjamb exuding enough tension to splinter the frame. On seeing him, she gripped her shopping bag handles tight and launched into a toe-tap, one of those I’m-waiting-for-an-answer bits that Shane thought you saw only in movies. Anticipation and dread sloshed over him, and he looked to Jack for confirmation.
    “Shane, if you run out of sugar, Cara will be happy to oblige,” Jack said dryly. “She lives across the hall.”
    *  *  *
     
    Inside her walk-in closet, Cara hung her new Nicole Miller lace sheath dress and tried to look on the bright side, but all she could see was shadow.
    Shane. Shane Doyle. Her neighbor.
    Her husband.
    Instead of dragging Lili around Nordstrom, she should have been on the phone to a lawyer. Two days ago at Gina’s wedding, she had told her husband—gah!—that she would handle it because, damn, that’s what she did. She handled, she managed, she overcame. Yet an entire week had passed as Mrs. Shane Doyle. She was a busy woman but this was absolute insanity.
    The first-year wedding anniversary was paper, and Cara speculated on what kind of celebration should occur after a mere week with a ring on her finger. Oh, right, she didn’t even get a ring out of the deal!
    Not that a girl should be in it for the bling, but Cara as blushing bride had certain expectations: a flowing gown, smiling friends and family, a sober groom. But more than that, marriage was supposed to be about common goals and compatibility, finding that soul mate who got you and, if not completely understanding of your