Select Love: A BWWM Romance (Blazin' Love Book 8) Read online

  Select Love

  A Blazin’ Love Novella

  Ja’Nese Dixon

  Also by Ja’Nese Dixon

  The Blazin’ Love Series

  Blazin’ Love (Contemporary Romance)

  Platinum Love (Book 1)

  Privileged Love (Book 2)

  Exclusive Love (Book 3)

  Chosen Love (Book 4)

  Special Love (Book 5)

  Absolute Love (Book 6)

  Pretend for Me (A Short Story)

  Devoted Love (Book 7)

  Select Love (Book 8)

  Lavish Love (Coming December 2019)

  Total Love (Coming December 2019)

  Steamy Sensations Holiday Love

  SELECT LOVE. Copyright © 2019 by Ja’Nese Dixon

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organization and events portrayed in this story are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  ISBN-13: 978-1-950405-11-4 (paperback)

  Printed in the United States of America.

  Table of Contents

  About Select Love

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Epilogue

  Sneak Peek! Platinum Love

  Author’s Note

  Leave a Review

  Sign Up!

  SNEAK PEEK: Rockstar Secrets

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Read More by Ja’Nese

  About the Steamy Sensations Holiday Love

  About the Author

  About the Publisher

  About Select Love

  Trading the turkey for a bad boy.

  It’s Thanksgiving.

  I’m straddled on the back of a Harley. This story will go down in history about how I trade in my luxury holiday trip for a road trip on a motorcycle.

  I’m Payton Stephens, I own several luxury car dealerships, and I’m one-tenth of the badass women behind Platinum Prestige. My assignment—oversee the custom build of two motorcycles—and it seemed straightforward until I walked into Cade’s lair.

  All my contacts pointed to one man for the job, Cade Reynolds. This man screams dangerous, hot, and heartbreaker. But there’s something about his rough edges and the taste of his kisses that has me hungry for more.

  Then he challenges me to a game of strip poker. I forget the turkey with beef on my mind. And the good girl in me hopes it’s possible to snag this bad boy because I’m all in leather, lacy, and all.

  Chapter 1

  Change is in the air, and not just the subtle changes in the trees or the temperature. I stroll to the glass-enclosed conference room. The stone painted concrete beneath my feet runs the length of the room, crawling up the far wall where a flat-screen TV displays the Stephens Automotive Companies logo. I stop in the doorway, a smile crosses my face at the sight of my older brothers—Adrian is the oldest, then Blake, and Donovan. Our parents adopted Tristan, our cousin, and he took our family of six to seven.

  “The champ is here.” Donovan sings and Tristan drums on the edge of the table like Will Smith from Ali. Those two are the same age and act more like twins than cousins.

  I'm the only girl—outnumbered one to four. I learned to be tough, to look like a lady, and fight like a man for my space in this world. Hell, I tried to dress like them, talk like them, be them until I met my guys—Hunter, Harper, Charlee, Taylor, Parker, Ryann, Jordan, Alex, and Chase.

  There's something about my guys that massaged my rough ways into a grown woman fully aware of my mental and physical abilities. But I don't think I'll ever outgrow my brothers' jokes and teasing or being their baby Lynnie.

  “Y’all keep playing with me. I’ll champ you all right.” I walk over and push both of them in the back of their heads. Laughter fills the room as I make my way down the side of the black lacquer conference table.

  I hug Donovan and Tristan stopping to drop my Chanel purse in my designated chair at the end of the table. I continue my way around to the other side as Adrian stands, pulling me into a bear hug and kisses my cheek. I lean in for a few extra minutes before he steps back, and Blake does the same.

  "Brat, I love your new look. I bet you're killing them on the sales floor." Blake touches my hair.

  "Damn right, I am. Plus, I heard blonds have more fun, and with fall, I thought I'd add some chocolate streaks for the kids." I laugh and toss my beach waves over my shoulder. I was in a funk and wanted a little pick me up. I hit up the spa, got a new cut and color, followed by a bit of shopping.

  We're all here tonight for a meeting with our parents. I make my way back to my seat, ready for whatever they have on the agenda.

  “What’s this meeting about?” I ask.

  “I assume the family vacation. Are you packed?” Tristan asks.

  "No, not yet." I roll my eyes at their groans and chuckles. "I still have three days. Guys throw some stuff in a bag, and you're done. I have to select outfits, swimwear, wigs, makeup, shoes. It's a whole operation." I'm definitely ready for a few days off the grid.

  “You act like this is a production. It’s a family vacation.” Donovan counters with a twinkle in his eyes.

  “It’s Dubai. I could meet a prince.” I bat my lashes.

  "And he'll send you and your luggage right back to the States." Donovan leans forward, already getting on my nerves.

  I point a finger in his direction to give him a piece of my mind, starting with the need for him to mind his own business and stay out of mine. "You know what knucklehead—"

  The oohs and aahs circle the room, and Donovan's infectious laugh rises above the noise of the others. We fall into separate conversations. I kick off my high heels under the table and remove my suit jacket, settling in to catch up with my brothers.

  We work in different departments of the family business, so it's good to get updates in-person versus reading them in reports. I figure our parents called this meeting to get the critical issues handled before the end of the year since talking business is banned during family vacations.

  My phone chimes, and I scan the text from Hunter. It's a reminder about the partner meeting for Platinum Prestige tomorrow. It's the last official meeting of the year. Just in time for business to peak at the dealership.

  I’m the sales manager for all of our luxury car and truck dealerships. The holidays are our most profitable time of the year. Roughly thirty percent of our annual sales happened between October and December. I scan down to the next message—also from Hunter—Be prepared to provide an update on the Henderson account. I sigh and shake my head.

  The ten of us, my guys, best friends, and my sisters tight since high school, started a premier concierge service almost seven years ago under the leadership of Hunter. In the beginning, I found it difficult to balance my role with them and my responsibilities with my family dealerships. Still, I've managed to handle my duties with relative
ease.

  Purchasing the official building for Platinum Prestige and hiring a more extensive staff made a world of difference. We expanded our employee base to include a twenty-four-hour call center and account managers. Now, as a partner, I oversee special corporate accounts and VIP clients, like Senator Henderson. He and his wife are set to retire early next year, and they want to take a road trip across the country. They reached out to Platinum Prestige to have us oversee the building of two custom Harley Davidson motorcycles.

  I called around to my contacts, and they all seemed to agree that Cade Reynolds is the man for the job, except it is impossible to reach the man.

  "Hey, Donovan." I tilt my head, and he walks over.

  “What’s up?” He pulls a chair closer.

  “Do you have another contact because I need to get these bikes like yesterday.” I’d hate to send the request to another city because I wouldn’t be able to oversee the project without a lot of driving or flying. I need someone in Austin, and someone now.

  "Naw, you want Cade. You can go somewhere else, but for custom work, hands down, he's it."

  “I believe you, but I’ve called for months with no response.”

  “Oh, you won’t get him on the phone. The man works around the clock. You’ll have more luck stopping by his place. I’ll send you the address.” Donovan types on his phone. “Tell him I sent you.”

  I get the text and send the address to my car. I can probably stop by tonight after this meeting if my parents make it a quick one.

  “Got it. Thanks, D.” I return to my text messages and start typing a response to Hunter.

  “No problem, but don’t go to his place after dark.” He stands.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I said so,” rings with his signature because-I’m-your-big-brother tone.

  “We both know that won’t work.”

  I hit send on my confirmation to Hunter and glance up at my brother. His face is tight. Donovan is my youngest, blood brother, but we roll tight. I give him a hard time, and he returns it full force. It’s what we do. I drop my phone in my purse, and he sits back in the chair.

  “He hangs with a rough crowd.”

  “But he’s the best?”

  “No doubt.”

  "Then, I'm going."

  His eyes narrow. “Lynnie, this is not the time to show your hand. Make the request and let him come to you.”

  I glance away and weigh his words. A rough crowd to my brothers could mean anything. They treat me like I’m porcelain and prone to break. But time is not on my side, I need him working on these bikes before we leave for Dubai.

  I'll be careful, and if I suspect it's as rough as he says, I'll drag one of the guys with me. And with Hunter requesting an update tomorrow, it looks like I'm walking on the wild side tonight.

  "Impatience causes the wise to do foolish things." I glance over at Blake. He taps his temple as if cautioning me to think it over.

  Platinum Prestige clients pay six figures a year in fees alone to have access to our services. I've tried calling and emailing Cade without success. Once they transferred me to someone else but I'm not talking with an assistant, I need the man himself. Besides, it's been months. I refuse to give my clients less than the best, and Cade Reynolds is the best.

  I draw a deep breath sweeping my gaze between them. I’ll keep my plans to myself, I determine giving them a noncommittal nod.

  The room falls silent. The lighthearted banter from seconds ago vanishes, and I glance up to see the cause. Our parents, Brice and Cynthia Stephens, enter the conference room like royalty.

  "I'll go with you if you're set on it," Donovan says before heading back to his chair upfront.

  "I'll keep you posted." I shoot back, sitting up straighter in my chair. My eyes follow my parents to the head of the table, directly in front of me. The polish on the lacquer reflects the shine of my mother's jewels.

  Cynthia Stephens always dresses to kill. Standing beside a man as powerful as my father dictates perfection—her words, not mine. And that truth in her world molded my existence.

  From head to toe always make a statement was preached to me from the moment I slipped my toddler feet into her designer shoes.

  “Lynnie, you look gorgeous.” Her appraising eyes sweep my face. The seal of approval rests in her dimpled smile.

  “Thank you, Mommy.” I bask in her compliment.

  I’m finally walking in her Louboutin’s—not literally, but metaphorically. I’m a direct reflection of her and her class, although most days I struggle to fit into this too tight existence. I’d rather pull back my hair into a ponytail and rock sneakers. But that’s not my life, this is.

  I’m a Stephens.

  My father pulls out a chair for my mother, and she lowers with the grace of a ballerina, but he remains standing. I exchange quick glances with my brothers, their discreet movements of buttoning up their suit jackets tell me we're all thinking the same thing.

  This is important.

  Chapter 2

  Brice Stephens is the master at setting the tone and mood in an environment. Merely standing in silence communicates a million times more than a grandiose gesture. I slip my Brooks Brother jacket over my Oxford stripe button-down shirt. Apparently, we’re open for business after hours. All eyes face the head of the table.

  Dad stands to his full height with a poker face. His dark brown skin doesn’t show his age, his midnight eyes are sharp and shine with determination. I inherited my mother’s light brown skin, button nose, and hair. But I’m blessed to have his intense eyes. Eyes that cut through the bullshit and zero in on my target.

  As a child, I learned to read his posture the way people read the sky to determine whether it's necessary to carry an umbrella. And if I'm right, it's about rain. I slip into my Fifis, ready for the downpour.

  “Thank you for joining us after hours. My seventieth birthday has brought on a lot of reflection for me…for us. And I have a clear vision for my marriage, my children, and our business." His gaze sweeps the table then lingers on Mom, and a soft blush warms her face the moment his finger traces down her cheek. The intimacy of his caress causes me to drop my gaze to my hands.

  Do men still love women the way my father loves my mother?

  "We've talked at length about why I built this company. But most importantly, we've talked about the future of Stephens Automotive Companies. My blushing bride and I have come to a conclusion." I glance up and lock eyes with my father. "It's time for me to relinquish my role as general manager."

  There’s a collective gasp. I exchange looks with Adrian. My mind races with questions. Is my father well? What does this mean? Does this mean we all have a shot at heading the family business? I always assumed Adrian would take Dad's seat as the eldest son. But Dad still plays by his own set of rules.

  Dad crosses his arms over his broad chest. I lean forward watching my parents then my brothers. The reality of the moment settles over me. Wait…I glance back at Dad. His features soften as he assesses each of us. I know that look too. I see you, Daddy, apparently Dad is playing the game he plays well—poker.

  Poker to Dad is like chess for others. He taught us as kids, and I never got it until he took me on a field trip to my first board meeting. He stopped outside the doors and gave me his poker speech. Much like a teenage driver, he replayed the rules of the game and reminded me of my blind spots—my emotions and my facial expressions. Unfortunately, I inherited my mother’s blushing too.

  He ended his spill with:

  Check your emotions. Good business is based on facts and figures. Leave your feelings at the door. Check your features, let your mind go blank, and school your face to a pleasant unreadable demeanor. Practice this in the mirror. Blushing, smiling, crying will alter the response of your opponent. Once your emotions are in check, and your features are in check, check your hand.

  What are you playing with? Are you willing to play hardball? Do you need to fold? Or are you ready to play chicken?
Your hand, your game. Game on, Lynnie.

  I push my emotions to the corners of my mind and turn on my closing face—confident, determined, and in control. It took years to perfect. But I followed my father’s advice. I practiced in the mirror. It’s my secret weapon.

  Now, it's time to review my hand. My track record as the sales manager is solid. My department is the driving force behind this business. Not only do I have the best sales team in the state, but I'm the top salesperson on my team. I’ve secured millions in luxury car sales just this year. Thanks to my role with Platinum Prestige, my numbers have soared. I can easily predict another thirty to thirty-five percent increase in sales next year.

  I exhale, relaxing back in my seat. I glance to my right at Adrian and Blake. The slight tap of Adrian's finger tells me he's ready to play. And Blake is on to Dad too. He shoots me a wink, and I suppress a smile. I observe Donovan and Tristan. It looks like we're all in.

  I rest my arms on the table, cupping one hand in the other and run through my checklist. Check your emotions, check your features, check your hand.

  My hand is stacked. I got more than a shot at Dad's seat. My role outweighs Tristan in internet sales and Donovan in the service department. Blake handles accounting and billing, but I doubt he wants the position. So, my completion is Adrian in finance.

  I hold my father’s eyes, and I lift my chin, tipping my head like the others. His smile widens with approval, and I hear his words in my head, Game on Lynnie.