Fighting to Forgive by JB Salsbury
What do you do when everything you avoid, turns out to be exactly what you need?
Easy and predictable, just the way he likes it, Blake Daniels flies through life the way he burns through women: on his terms, no regrets.
With his fighting career in full swing, he’s on the threshold of title contention. But when his training is compromised by injury, the stakes grow impossibly higher. The rage that fuels his punches also chips away at his focus, and he risks losing everything he cares about.
He won’t let that happen. Not again.
Layla’s through with men. After a marriage that never should’ve happened, she hopes to reclaim the pieces of the woman she lost years ago.
Emotional abuse has left her insecure and terrified. A master at faking what she’s not feeling, she masks her self-doubt in false confidence.
She’ll never let another man hurt her. Not again.
Chased by shadows of the past, Blake and Layla know what they don’t want, but their hearts have a different plan. As a web of lies and betrayal threatens to destroy them, they’re forced to make a choice.
Is love enough to heal even the deepest wounds?
Excerpt from Fighting to Forgive
I clear my throat and reach for the object he’s holding—oh my gosh! I snatch the tampon from his hand, its crinkling paper sound igniting my cheeks even more. So much for acting confident. I’m a mess, and I can only pray that my glasses help to hide a little of my embarrassment. Burying the offending object deep into my purse, I consider running out of the lobby and calling in sick. “Thanks.”
“Happy to help. Wouldn’t want you to get caught without those.” He runs a hand across his upper lip, trying to cover a smile and failing horribly. “Could get messy.”
So he saw me on the floor with my ass in the air… and handed me a tampon. He probably thinks I’m some silly girl that he can push around with his good looks and that panty-melting smile. But I won’t cower to his presumptions.
I glare into his bright green eyes and straighten to my full five-foot-three, and a half thanks to my high-heeled boots, hoping to feel less intimidated. It’s impossible. But he doesn’t need to know that. “Have you ever heard of Emily Post? She’s an expert on etiquette. You might want to look her up.”
“Yeah?” He rubs his chin, making a show that he’s considering what I said. He lifts one eyebrow. “She single?”
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