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  His arms come around me, hooking my waist and pulling me to him like he owns me. And he does. Always has. I peer up at my husband, at the love of my life, and get lost in his eyes.

  Those tropical green eyes that take me back to our honeymoon at Papakōlea Beach.

  His kiss is sweet, familiar in a way that only the person you intend to spend the rest of your life with is. It’s a homecoming that makes my heart race. When he lifts his head, his eyes dance with humor. “So, how was your night…Jasmine?”

  A tinkle of laughter erupts from me and I poke him in the side. “It was pretty amazing…Will.”

  He chuckles as he guides me up the stairs to the house. “Same time next week?”

  “Hmm…better make it two. I don’t want my husband getting suspicious.”

  He pauses, keys in the lock, to look back at me. “Yeah, you’re probably right. If my wife finds out, we’re both dead.”

  We both laugh at that, and he pushes the door open. Immediately, I hear the noise of cartoons in the living room and smell the scent of popcorn in the air. The dogs start barking at the sound of our entrance, and it’s quickly followed by the rush of little feet bounding down the stairs.

  “Mommy, Daddy, you’re home!”

  Bradley bends down and sweeps our two little monsters into his arms, giving them tickly whisker kisses and making them squeal with delight as I stand back and take in the scene.

  My chest swells with joy and happiness as all my thoughts are confirmed—tonight was, indeed, a refresher for our marriage.

  And I can’t wait to do it again.

  Need more heat to chase away that winter chill?

  Read on for an excerpt from NOEL: A BLUE COLLAR CHRISTMAS!

  Noel

  A Blue Collar Christmas

  USA Today Bestselling Author

  J.C. VALENTINE

  CHAPTER ONE

  At three a.m., the E.R. was pretty dead, just the way Noel Walker liked it. It was going on the tenth hour of what would normally be a twelve-hour shift, but tonight, she was pulling a double. Not that she really minded taking on the extra work while her friend and co-worker, Loretta, went on her honeymoon. It just meant that, while Loretta worked on building her tan, Noel was working on fattening her paycheck. Not that she was in particular need of the money. She was very frugal, except during this time of year.

  Closing in on the holidays and still currently single, but not even close to being ready to mingle, Noel had gotten in the habit of giving rather than receiving. It always filled a special place in her heart when she could make a patient smile.

  Nothing sucked worse than being stuck in a hospital when you’d rather be at home opening presents and surrounded by family. Something she knew a lot about. Since leaving home to begin her residency at a hospital far enough away to qualify as halfway across the country, she’d spent a grand total of nine Christmases in her studio apartment with nothing but a bottle of Merlot to keep her company.

  Yet, the deafening quiet of the holidays couldn’t compare to the deathly boring early morning hours of the E.R. If it wasn’t in such poor taste, she would say that it felt as if someone had died.

  Maybe it was the stillness that unnerved her the most. Noel thrived on the excitement of trauma, which was why she preferred any other shift besides the third. During her residency, she was the only one of ten who actually enjoyed working the emergency room shifts. She’d wholeheartedly signed on for every Halloween and full-moon shift, determined not to miss out on the insanity those nights were sure to bring. Admittedly, she was a bit of an adrenalin junkie, so that might explain why she experienced heart palpitations every time she heard ambulance sirens pulling into the bay.

  The rush it gave her when the shit hit the fan was unparalleled. The knowledge that she was helping to save lives never got old. The only bad part of the job was when they lost a patient, but she’d long since learned to cut the emotional ties and move on. Getting attached to every critical case was a death sentence in its own right. She’d seen far too many good doctors and nurses move on after losing a patient.

  The E.R. definitely wasn’t for the faint of heart.

  “Hey, Noel,” Carly called from behind the main desk when she saw her walk up. “When do you go on break?”

  “Forty-five minutes.” And damn did she need it. A quick bite to eat and a powernap were calling her name.

  “Before you go, could you check on the Davis guy in five?”

  “Is that the GSW that came in yesterday?” Noel frowned as she flipped through the charts, recalling the case that had been rushed in just an hour prior to her arrival. She’d heard rumors that it was a nasty one—blood everywhere. Coding once on the ride in, but stabilized in the ambulance. What she wouldn’t have given to have been there.

  “That’s the one.” Carly nodded her head, causing her carrot red ponytail to flop over one shoulder. “Dr. Yates wants someone on him every few hours. In fact, I think he’s due for his bandages to be changed. I’d have already done it myself, but I got stuck logging patients.”

  Bandage changing. Well, it wasn’t exactly a heart-stopper, but it would give her something to occupy herself with until something more thrilling came through.

  Tucking the charts under her arm, Noel rapped her knuckles on top of the desk. “You owe me lunch.”

  “Breakfast,” Carly corrected her as Noel turned to walk away.

  Damn. Her days and nights were all turned around. “Breakfast then,” Noel called over her shoulder.

  On her way to the GSW victim, Noel checked in with a couple patients, changing out fluid bags and checking to make sure everyone was comfortable. Satisfied that all was well, she entered room five and tried her best not to appear as downtrodden as she felt.

  Just twelve more hours to go.

  That feeling lasted all but two seconds as she drew back the privacy curtain and found herself staring straight into a pair of tired, forest green eyes.

  “Just in time. My leg is killing me.”

  That voice. It was pure gravel—deep and husky with a slight rasp. Instant heat pooled between her thighs as Noel’s mind got carried away thinking about hearing that voice in her ear. In the dark. In her bed.

  Shudder.

  Those spellbinding eyes of his held hers with a note of curiosity, until Noel realized that she was staring like a star-struck teenager. With a mental shake, she dropped her attention to his chart as she crossed the room, grateful for the distraction.

  “Good morning, Mr. Davis. Mind answering a couple questions for me?” He issued a grunt that she took to mean that she should continue. “Can you verify your date of birth for me, please?”

  “February fifteenth, nineteen eighty.”

  “An Aquarius,” she replied with a smile, then asked a few more routine questions before setting aside the chart and gathering some supplies. After she delivered another shot of meds into his IV to manage his pain, she moved to the side of the bed. “Mind if I check your dressings?”

  Head reclined against the pillow, he flicked his hand toward the limb. “Have at it.”

  Those unsettling green eyes fastened onto her, examining Noel’s every move, and making her nervous in a way that she’d never experienced before. Changing bandages was so routine she could do it in her sleep, but with him watching her like that, she had to work to maintain her focus.

  It was a good thing she worked well under pressure. Even if her insides were a mess, her mask of calm was firmly rooted in place.

  Still, her heart rate climbed as she drew back the thin blanket and her breaths grew increasingly shallow as his body was revealed to her inch by agonizing inch.

  Dear Lord, the man was built like a tank. Initially taken in by his eyes alone, she was now hyper aware of just what she was looking at. A long frame that stretched from one end of the bed to the other indicated that his height was nothing to sneeze at. Beneath the shapeless gown was a set of shoulders that belonged to a linebacker, and his chest was equally th
ick, the flimsy material unable to hide the thick ropes of muscle hidden beneath.

  His legs, now bared to her, were heavy with that same muscle and dusted with coarse, dark hair reminiscent of the hair worn clipped short on top of his head.

  Aware that she was ogling in what was fast becoming a very unprofessional assessment, Noel lifted the edge of the gown, drawing it higher up his thighs toward his waist in search of the injury that needed dressing. But with every inch uncovered that revealed more of that hard, thick muscle, she grew increasingly nervous.

  Where the hell was the point of entry?

  As if sensing her panic, the patient reached down and yanked the gown the rest of the way up, giving her a glimpse of what he was working with before tucking it down between his thighs.

  Had he done it on purpose?

  “Doc said it nicked the femoral artery,” he grunted as he tilted his leg out to provide a better angle.

  Jesus, talk about cutting it close. Leaning in, she used her gloved fingers to gently peel back the stained bandage. “You’re lucky to be alive.”

  He held two fingers up, spacing them an inch apart. “Came this close to meeting my maker,” he said with pride.

  The glimmer in his eyes caught her off-guard. Most people would be shaking, crying even, if they were in his shoes. This guy? He was actually smiling about it. Tossing the soiled gauze away, she tore open a fresh packet.

  “You don’t sound very upset by that.”

  “Ah, well,” Davis drawled, “guess you can say I’ve grown used to it.”

  “Facing death?” Noel questioned with a pinch in her brow. For a moment, she wondered if she’d have to call psych down for an eval.

  “This isn’t my first rodeo, Miss…” His eyes narrowed on the name tag dangling from her left breast pocket. “Miss Noel. Last name or first?”

  “First. How many times have you found yourself in this position?”

  “A few,” he replied vaguely. Casting his gaze toward the ceiling, he mused, “Busted a couple ribs wrestling with a crack dealer. Took an elbow to the nose a couple times. Broken on both counts,” he said with another pride-filled tilt of his full lips. After listing an alarming number of injuries, both minor and severe, he finally ended with, “And a GSW to the inner left thigh.”

  Yes, Noel thought as she planted both hands on her hips and studied him with a critical eye. This man was in definite need of an evaluation. And more’s the pity. He was too beautiful to be so crazy, yet he was.

  She was about to inform him that she’d be back later when he added, “Looks like I’ll be out of commission for a few weeks again. The captain’s gonna be pissed, and I’m not particularly thrilled with having to meet with psych, but gotta follow protocol.”

  “Protocol?”

  “It’s not every day a perp decides to unload his clip, but when he does, better believe I’m ready and willing to meet him halfway. Definitely doesn’t mean that just because I took a slug to the leg that I’m suddenly going to have nightmares, but what can you do.”

  Noel’s frown grew. Tilting her head, she regarded him with new eyes. Taking into account his brute size and strength, his gruff, take-no-prisoners attitude, that laundry list of injuries, and the mention of a captain… “What did you say you do again?”

  Those green eyes met hers again. “You mean work?” She gave a sharp jerk of her head in response. “I’ve been with TPD for going on ten years.”

  “You’re a cop?” One dark eyebrow arched up and she easily read the question there. “Sorry, I wasn’t on rotation when you came in yesterday. But now that I look at you, I can see it.”

  “You can tell I’m a cop just from looking at me?”

  “Well, no. I mean, now that I know, yeah, but not before.” His other eyebrow arched to join its partner. “What I meant was that I can picture you in the uniform. I mean…shit.” Now he was smiling, and damn if that wasn’t just as perfect and sexy as the rest of him. Noel clamped her mouth shut, too afraid of what might come out of it next.

  Davis watched her fumble to clean up her mess in amused silence. Sleep. She was in desperate need of some Zs before she stuck her foot in her mouth any worse than she already had.

  “Breakfast will be coming around in an hour,” she informed him as she strode quickly toward the door. “If you get uncomfortable again, press the call button on the side of the bed. Don’t let the pain get out of control or it will be that much harder to get it back under control. No need to be a hero in here.”

  “What happens in the E.R. stays in the E.R?”

  Noel grinned. “Exactly.”

  “Noel?” She turned to look at him. “Will you be back later?”

  “I have another twelve hours ahead of me, so most likely.”

  His expression giving nothing away, he settled back against the pillow, his eyes drifting closed and, whether he meant it to be or not, Noel took that as her cue to leave.

  Continue reading! Pick up NOEL: A BLUE COLLAR CHRISTMAS here!

  Looking for a sexy, intense, romantic comedy? Check out more of the Blue Collar series with SWEETEST TEMPTATIONS (Blue Collar Book 1)

  From USA Today Bestselling Author J.C. Valentine comes a sizzling story about a young entrepreneur, a hot firefighter, and a first date that will change their paths forever.

  Tenacious bakery shop owner Abby is following her dreams. She has everything she could ever want in life--except the fairytale ending. Then she meets Kennedy, a hunky firefighter whose killer smile and easy charm makes her heart pound. But with the kind of danger he faces on the job each day, Abby knows there's no happily-ever-after in the cards. The harder she tries to hold onto her heart, the faster it seems to slip away, but when a series of mysterious events threaten the future of her business and her life, their happiness may be shorter-lived than she realized.

  Someone is out to get her, and it's up to Abby and Kennedy to uncover who's behind the destruction. Can they do it before tragedy strikes?

  GET YOUR COPY HERE!

  Read on for the first chapter from SWEETEST TEMPTATIONS!

  1

  I heard Demetrius and Meaghan’s voice first, signaling it was time to get up. Groaning, I rolled onto my side, peeled my eyes open, and flinched as morning sunlight blinded me and a hundred—no, a thousand—tiny men drove axes into my skull.

  Once again, I’d given myself a hangover.

  A chocolate hangover.

  It was all Dex’s fault. He’d gone to Hershey Town on vacation over the weekend and, knowing how much I loved my sweets, he’d brought me back a trunkful of decadence.

  That devilish bastard. I would kiss him if I didn’t think I might throw up in his mouth.

  Slapping my hand over the alarm clock, I relished the few moments of silence I had left before my day got crazy.

  My business—my baby, my pride and joy—would be celebrating its grand opening today, and I needed to be there bright and early to get everything ready. This was going to be big. Huge. Epic. I was a business owner. A newb. A…well, I guess you could say I was a virgin.

  How many times did a person get to claim that title in their lives? At nine o’clock sharp, I was going to pop my own cherry. It had been one hell of a journey to get here, the worst of which involved a bidding war for the building currently housing my new business. That was half the battle. Now, I just had to prove to myself I have what it takes to be an entrepreneur.

  Dragging my sorry ass out of bed, I shuffled across the room to the highboy that had been a fixture in my bedroom since before I could walk, and pulled out the first articles of clothing my fingers came across—purple cotton briefs and a neon pink demi bra.

  I lifted my shoulders in a tired shrug. Who cared? No one but me was going to see what was happening beneath the apron anyway.

  Slipping into the shower, I cranked the heat up high. A sort of preemptive strike to the sore and stiffening muscles I expected to have by the end of the day. I stayed until the water ran cold, a cool ten minutes lat
er. A whole one minute longer than yesterday. Sharing a water heater with neighbors sucked ass.

  My mood jumping up a notch, I opened the wooden box I kept on the counter where I stored all my hairbrushes, clips, ties, pins, and anything else I needed to feel like a real woman.

  Selecting a brush, I set to work on the mass of auburn tangles that had formed overnight, gritting my teeth on a few stubborn ones. My morning process was this: shower, detangle, style, makeup, dress, and go.

  I didn’t do breakfast. Considering my need to taste every single thing I made—strictly for quality purposes, of course—I needed to save the calories for the shop. After having gone through my routine, I slipped into a sensible pair of walking shoes and tucked my wallet into my back pants’ pocket. Purses are for housewives, of which I am not.

  “Check you later, Wilber.” Wilber, my hairless cat, stretched across the couch cushion he occupied, turned his considerably chubby belly toward the ceiling, and gave me a bored yawn—his silent command for me to vacate the premises.

  Shaking my head, I yanked open the front door and stopped dead in my tracks.

  “Good morning, ma’am. Would you like to buy some cookies?”

  I looked down at the fat-faced child covered in freckles peddling her boxes of sin, and narrowed my eyes. “Didn’t I tell you last year not to come around here again?”

  Innocent blue eyes peered up at me, completely unaffected by the chill in my voice. “Mom told me that you were a shoe-in for at least one box.”

  I spluttered, indignant that anyone would assume such a thing about me. Once, in a moment of weakness, I bought an entire stock of Girl Scout cookies. Once. “Now you listen here,” I said sharply as I reached into my pocket and withdrew my wallet. “You tell your mother that I don’t appreciate her presumptuousness.” Glancing behind her, I felt my willpower crumble beneath the allure of purple and green boxes filled with chewy goodness. How did one choose?