(Anchor Point #1)
by L.A. Witt
Release Date: November 21, 2016
About Just Drive
For Sean Wright, driving a cab in the tiny Navy town of Anchor Point isn’t an exciting job . . . until he picks up just-dumped Paul Richards. A drive turns into a walk on the pier, which turns into the hottest hookup Sean’s had in ages.
After a long overdue breakup, Paul can’t believe his luck. Of all the drivers, he’s picked up by the gorgeous, gay, and very willing Sean. Younger guys aren’t usually his thing, but Paul can’t resist.
One taste and neither man can get enough . . . right up until they realize that Paul is Sean’s father’s commanding officer and the last man Sean should be involved with.
With two careers on the line, their only option is to back off. It’s not easy, though; the sex and the emotional connection are exactly what both men have been craving for a long time. But Paul has devoted twenty-four years to his career and his dream of making admiral. If he’s caught with Sean, that’s all over. He has to choose—stay the course, or trade it all for the man who drove off with his heart.
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An Excerpt from Just Drive
He took another drink, drawing my attention to his slim lips, his jaw, his neck . . .
I turned back around, nearly unloading my own drink into my lap before I managed to swallow a gulp. Meeting his gaze again—this time in the safety of the rearview—I said, “So, you want to keep driving around?”
He nodded. “Yeah. I still don’t know where I want to go.”
So I drove. With the road to hold my attention, at least I wasn’t staring at him anymore. Even with the radio playing softly in the background, the lack of conversation was more unnerving now that I’d let myself shamelessly check him out. It was one thing to have a weirdly silent passenger. It was another to have a smoking-hot one, especially when I was a few months into the dry spell from hell.
Note to self—don’t check out passengers if you haven’t gotten laid recently.
I fidgeted as subtly as I could. Thank God for the darkness, so my very attractive and very quiet passenger couldn’t see me surreptitiously adjusting myself. Not that he’d have noticed—he was playing on his phone again.
Out of nowhere, he broke the silence. “Christ, I’m such an idiot.”
I tapped the wheel. What was I supposed to say to that?
He let his head fall back against the headrest. “You ever wonder why perfectly functional adults turn into utter morons when they’re in relationships?”
“Um.” I cleared my throat. “Happens to all of us, I think.”
“Yeah.” He laughed bitterly. “Maybe one of these days I’ll learn.”
“You’d be the first.”
“Probably.” He scrubbed a hand over his face and exhaled. “I just . . . I mean, the worst part is when you invest so much time and energy into a relationship even when you know it’s over, and then feel like a moron when it is over.”
Oh, that explained it. A hotel room breakup. I wondered if he’d gone there expecting to spend a more pleasant evening with his girlfriend, and then found himself single and in the back of my car. Poor dude.
“Sorry to hear it,” I said.
“My own damn fault for not putting on the brakes months ago.” He muttered something I didn’t understand, and shook his head as he looked out the window again. “Didn’t have the balls I guess. Can’t even be mad that—” He paused and cleared his throat. “Well, I wasn’t going to do it. Guess I should be grateful someone finally dropped the hammer.”
He went on, mostly rambling about breakups and doomed relationships that seem to go on forever until someone finally works up the courage to call it off. I wasn’t sure exactly what he was trying to rationalize, but God knew I’d been there—searching every angle of a breakup to find silver linings and explanations so it wouldn’t hurt quite as much.
As he talked, I listened. It was usually my drunk passengers who did this—talking to the window like they didn’t even need to be heard as much as they needed to get it out of their system—but he seemed pretty sober. Sober enough to know he was in a car with a stranger. I couldn’t help feeling bad for him. This town wasn’t huge, but the only person he could find to unload all this shit on was me?
Jesus, man. How lonely are you?
Though it was a Navy town. People came and went. Loneliness was par for the course. Didn’t I know it?
“Anyway.” He blew out a breath. “I’m sorry. You probably didn’t get this job to listen to people whine about their boyfriends.”
“It’s okay. I’ve been—” Wait, did he say boyfriends? I muffled a cough. “I’ve been there, believe me.”
About L.A. Witt
L.A. Witt is an abnormal M/M romance writer who has finally been released from the purgatorial corn maze of Omaha, Nebraska, and now spends her time on the southwestern coast of Spain. In between wondering how she didn’t lose her mind in Omaha, she explores the country with her husband, several clairvoyant hamsters, and an ever-growing herd of rabid plot bunnies. She also has substantially more time on her hands these days, as she has recruited a small army of mercenaries to search South America for her nemesis, romance author Lauren Gallagher, but don’t tell Lauren. And definitely don’t tell Lori A. Witt or Ann Gallagher. Neither of those twits can keep their mouths shut . . .
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To celebrate the release of Just Drive, one lucky winner will receive their choice of two eBooks off L.A. Witt’s backlist (excluding Just Drive and Afraid to Fly) and a $10 Riptide Publishing credit! Leave a comment with your contact info to enter the contest. Entries close at midnight, Eastern time, on November 26, 2016. Contest is NOT restricted to U.S. entries. Thanks for following the tour, and don’t forget to leave your contact info!
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