Authors: Alannah Lynne,Cassie McCown
In GOING ALL IN, a good ol’ Georgia boy teaches a Myrtle Beach princess how to get down and dirty…
It’s been two years since Callie Holden helped put her father in prison, and since then, she’s learned a lot about life and herself. To Callie’s surprise, she actually likes working and has discovered money is a tool to be used for good… or evil. She also realizes even though she’s traveled the globe, she’s never truly lived. She longs for adventure and to experience a wildly passionate romance. The last place she expects to realize her dreams is in the arms of the ever-surly man she’s dubbed “The Beast.” But when Callie and Wade Neumann are forced to work together, unexpected chemistry changes everything. In Wade’s arms, Callie finds the excitement and passion she’s been looking for, as well as a few other surprises.
Wade Neumann has spent the last year burying the pain and humiliation of being left at the altar by a woman who used him as a novelty toy before settling down with someone more like herself—someone rich. He’s lost himself in a stream of nameless females since then, but instead of the trysts helping him heal, he’s only grown colder and more jaded. He hasn’t moved on with his life. He’s merely stuck going through the motions… until he meets Callie Holden, a woman who looks like his ex but is actually the opposite—sweet, compassionate, loyal, and most importantly, not wealthy. Or so he thinks. Because just as he starts to believe things with Callie are real and true, she gives him thirty million reasons to doubt all over again.
Book #4 in the Heat Wave Series
Copyright © 2014 Alannah Lynne
Written by Alannah Lynne
Edited by Cassie McCown
Cover Design by Violet Duke
Cover Photo by Robert Weston
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the copyright owner.
This is a work of fiction. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intentional by the author. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to your online retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
North Carolina, USA
Dedicated to Janelle Denison
To say I owe you everything isn’t an exaggeration, and thank you will never be enough!
It’s kind of funny that writing is often called a “solitary” career, yet there are so many wonderful people who help create a book and a whole slew who help an author promote their work.
I’m not sure this book would’ve ever come together without the help of my critique partner, Janelle Denison. The do-over was painful, but it made the story so much better. Thank you! As always, thanks to Cassie McCown from
Gathering Leaves Editing
for taking the words and polishing them up, and to
for buffing off any left-over wax Cassie and I missed.
A huge thanks to my cover models, Brittani and Hayes Askew! You guys were awesome, and I had a great time at the beach with you. And while you guys totally rocked, an equally huge thank you to Robert Weston, who captured the sweet moments and gave me the daunting task of picking one image from over seven hundred! Thanks, Violet Duke, for putting it all together to create a an amazing cover!
Writing scenes for things I’ve never done, and will never do, like SCUBA diving, is a bit of a challenge. Special thanks to Jamie and Shannon Farrell as well as John Whichard for sharing your experiences and expertise. Any mistakes or misrepresentations are my fault and not theirs.
Thanks to Paul Salvette at
for taking all the pieces and putting them together in one file for the readers’ enjoyment.
But most of all, thank YOU, the reader!! Without you, there wouldn’t be a need for me.
sudden burst of cold air rushed through Wade Neumann’s construction trailer office, tossing the papers on his desk into the air like confetti on Times Square Rockin’ New Year’s Eve. As they floated to the floor, his boss, Kevin Mazze, stomped his boots on the concrete block steps to knock off the mud, then stepped into the trailer and let the door slam shut behind him. The framed site plans hanging on the walls rattled from the force, as did Wade’s teeth.
“Jesus Christ.” Wade propped his elbows on top of his gray-metal desk and cradled his head in his hands. The viselike grip helped steady the sloshing brain cells and slightly reduced the throb in his temples but did nothing to lessen the rising tide in the pit of his stomach.
“Sorry, the wind caught the door before I could stop it from slamming.”
Kevin Mazze, owner of Mazze Builders, wasn’t just Wade’s boss. He was also a close, personal friend. However, given Wade’s current condition after having spent the past twenty-four hours with
he was considering the need for new, less rambunctious… kinder friends. Especially given the extra little twinkle emanating from Kevin’s dark eyes and the shit-eating grin splitting his face. Bastard wasn’t sorry. Hell, he wasn’t even in the same time zone as sorry.
“I can tell. Your face shows how deeply pained and remorseful you truly are.”
Kevin’s booming laughter filled the air, and the chair across from Wade’s desk squeaked with Kevin’s weight as he took a seat.
Wade leaned over to pick up the papers but found keeping his head higher than his thumping heart to lessen the bass in his head was an impossible task. In an effort to minimize the impact as much as possible, he dove to the floor, scooped up the mess, and dumped it all in a pile on his desk. His own chair
from the impact as he dropped back into it, then took a couple of deep breaths to fight off the pain and nausea brought on by the sudden movement.
“You must’ve had one hell of a night.”
Without moving his head, Wade met Kevin’s curious stare but didn’t answer. Not because he didn’t want his boss to know where he’d been or what he’d been doing, but the old heave-ho in his stomach made him fear more than words would fly out if he opened his mouth.
It didn’t matter if he answered or not, though. Kevin was perfectly content to carry on the conversation by himself. “Let me guess”—he dropped his head back and stared at the ceiling—“Bernice the bartender?”
Wade let his heavy eyelids slam shut over his burning eyes, like shutters being drawn over storefront windows. He imagined hanging a
sign to the front of them with the hopes Mazze would get the subliminal message and go away or, at the very least, shut the hell up. However, in all the years he’d known Mazze, subtlety had never worked, so he didn’t know why he thought it would now.
“Cathy at the Citgo?” After another no-comment from Wade, Mazze continued. “Sandy at the Strip?”
Wade cracked an eye and scrunched up his face. “Who the hell is—”
Kevin threw his head back with laughter. “Gotcha.”
Unwilling to acknowledge Kevin
have two of the names right, or that his life had been reduced to a revolving door of women with names that sounded like they belonged in tongue-twisters, Wade sighed and grabbed his cup of strong-enough-to-double-as-a-heavy-duty-degreaser coffee and took a hefty gulp. Now he needed a plate of greasy eggs, potatoes, and a pound of bacon. All wouldn’t be right with the world, but it’d sure look a hell of a lot better.
“It wasn’t that kind of night.” He took another hefty sip of the coffee and set it back on his desk. Probably best not to overindulge with anything this morning after last night’s binge. “Tyler, Alex, and a few other guys from home are here for vacation. I spent the night at Huntington Beach State Park with them. Tyler brought some of his famous apple pie moonshine—”
The words caused a resurgence of flavor on his tongue and he swallowed deeply, forcing back the gurgle in his gut. After the wave of nausea passed, he said, “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to eat Grandma’s apple pie again.”
Kevin shook his head and chuckled.
If Wade’s mom shook her head like that, he’d assume her thoughts were something like,
Where did I go wrong? What makes my reasonably intelligent son do such stupid things?
However, he imagined Kevin’s thoughts were more like,
Damn, I miss the good old days.
Wade had known Kevin for eight years and had lived with him for the first six months of their friendship. He’d been around long enough, seen enough, and heard enough stories to know Kevin wasn’t a saint, and there wasn’t anything Wade or his friends did that Kevin hadn’t also done. Probably in multiple. But since marrying Sam and settling down, the guy had grown wings and sprouted a freaking halo. Against all odds, Wildman had been tamed.
“Erik and Steve are crazy,” Kevin said, referring to his two best friends, “and we’ve done some ridiculous things over the years. But your boys are balls-to-the-wall crazy.”
Wade shrugged. “That’s mostly Tyler. The rest of us just like having a good time.”
Right, ’cause feeling like he’d been put through a blender the next morning was soooo much fun.
Kevin’s eyes narrowed. “Are you still drunk?”
“I’d give my left nut to still be drunk. Unfortunately, I’m not. I switched to water early”—early being two—“so I could make it to work this morning.”
He might be an idiot, but at least he was responsible.
“I’m more tired than anything.” Well, except for the pounding headache and the possible regurgitation issues. “I poured myself into my sleeping bag around four, but they were still going strong, so I didn’t get much sleep.”
“They didn’t bring a camper this year?”
Wade rubbed the back of his neck and grinned. He knew where this line of questioning would lead, but there wasn’t any stopping it now. “No, and I wasn’t about to spoon with Tyler in his tent, so I slept in my sleeping bag under the stars.”
Mazze cranked his head around and watched the rain blow sideways against the window. “You must’ve been doing more than moonshine to see stars.” This time when he shook his head, Wade figured his thoughts were more closely aligned with disappointed parent than jealous friend. “Not only has it been raining most of the night, but the temperature got down to thirty,
we have gale warnings.” Another shake of the head. “And you say you’re not bat-shit crazy.”
Wade scrubbed a hand over his face. “Okay, I wasn’t under the stars. I was under the tailgate of my truck. And I’m not crazy, just country.”
“Country folks everywhere should be insulted.” Mazze studied him from the corner of his eye. “Seriously, are you okay to drive? Legally?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
To prove a point, or maybe just to prove he was an ass, Kevin crossed his foot over his knee and, in the process, kicked the shit out of the front of Wade’s metal desk with his heavy work boot. The sound reverberated off the paneled walls and collided with a resounding clang in the middle of Wade’s head, forcing him to grab his skull and hold on for dear life.