Giving It All

Book 3: Naked Men

by Christi Barth

Genres: Action & Adventure Romance; Contemporary Romance; Romantic Comedy

Synopsis

Christi Barth’s smoking-hot contemporary romance series continues as the five best friends who survived a tragedy as teenagers take to their Naked Men podcast to open up about women. In Giving It All, the group’s globe-trotting hunk discovers that you need to go home to find love.

Logan Marsh never stays in one place for long. Through his family’s foundation, Logan spends his days traveling to the world’s most dangerous places to deliver disaster relief, which really puts a damper on his sex life—until he reconnects with his high-school crush. Stranded together in the Caribbean, they enjoy a steamy fling that awakens feelings Logan has ignored for too long. But family drama calls him away from her sweet embrace . . . or so he thinks.

Brooke Gallagher loved being a home economics teacher and cheerleading coach. Then an unexpected tragedy forced her to take some time off. Now she’s back in D.C. and despite the intensity of her tropical encounter with Logan, she’s shocked to bump into him again. Logan’s dealing with his own issues (including a newly discovered half-sister) and he’s itching to get back on the road. More than anything, Brooke wants to be there for him. But first, he has to decide if love is enough to keep him in one place.

Catch all of USA Today bestselling author Christi Barth’s charming Naked Men novels:
RISKING IT ALL | WANTING IT ALL | GIVING IT ALL | TRYING IT ALL

Release date: January 17, 2017

Publisher: Loveswept

Print pages: 224

Sample

Chapter 1
Present Day

Logan Marsh was in the middle of the longest day of his life. Because that’s how he rolled when a surprise half sister got dropped into his life after twenty-four years. Getting home to meet her became an emergency.

Since he hadn’t slept, and had crossed more time zones than he could keep track of, his day stood at about thirty-seven hours long right now. Middle-of-nowhere Kazakhstan to Washington, D.C., wasn’t exactly a direct flight. And now this crazy hurricane had sent his latest puddle jumper off course in the wrong direction before finally being grounded for the duration of the storm on some random Caribbean island.

He looked around the armpit of an airport. The whole thing could probably fit into a single concourse at Dulles. Plastic chairs. Scuffed linoleum. No bar. Not the worst he’d ever been in, but not someplace he wanted to hang out in for however long it took a hurricane to pass through.

The pretty gate agent with big brown eyes looked frazzled. No wonder, with a couple dozen angry passengers yelling at her like the hurricane was her fault. Idiots. Logan figured she’d be relieved to give him a hotel rec and reduce the line at her desk by one.

Bypassing the line—and ignoring the frowns it earned him—Logan rounded the desk, glanced at her name tag, and slapped on the smile his friend Josh claimed could charm the panties off any woman within a hundred feet.

“Angelique? One question and I’ll be out of your hair completely. And it isn’t ‘When does the next plane leave?’”

“I like you already, monsieur,” she replied, a dimple forming in her cocoa-colored cheek. “How may I help?”

“Got a decent hotel recommendation? One where my room won’t be jacked while I’m out? Or I’ll be charged for clean sheets?” Logan had been around the world more times than he could count. It hadn’t made him cynical. Just careful.

“Get away from the airport,” she warned. Then she handed Logan a taxi voucher. “My brother Remy drives a cab. Number fourteen, parked right outside. He’ll take you someplace good.”

“Thank you.” Logan took the voucher with one hand. Pocketed it. Decided to push the power of his smile a bit further. Swapped hands to shake hers and palm over a fifty-dollar bill folded around his business card. Money talked louder than all the grumbling passengers behind him put together. He knew. Common sense and decency went pretty damn far, no matter what language you spoke. But money trumped it all. Got things done. And what Logan needed was to get home ASAP. “First plane going to anywhere in the continental United States. Anywhere. You let me know.”

Her expression warmed even more. Probably because she felt the crinkled texture of President Grant against her skin. “Certainly, monsieur. Welcome to Dominica.”

“Thanks.” Logan strode away before the other passengers pitched an even bigger fit. Hey, he knew they weren’t happy. He sure as hell wasn’t. Not with Madison waiting for him—sort of—back in D.C. Not to mention a best friend whose ass deserved to be kicked halfway into next week. But his job had taught him that sometimes you had to accept your circumstances and make the best of them. Hopefully this Remy would take him to a resort with a hot tub, room service, and icy beer. Although a hot shower would be enough to satisfy him at this point.
As he scanned for the door, a redhead caught his eye. Not just because every man in the world appreciated redheads, but because she looked familiar. Which was impossible. Random. Weird. Weird enough to compel Logan to tighten his grip on his duffel bag and cross to her in five long strides.

Holy shit. It really was her. Brooke Gallagher, the captain of Roosevelt Prep’s cheerleading squad, all grown up. Really grown up. Her head still barely came to his collarbone. All that bright red hair still streamed down to the middle of her back. But the eyebrows arched a little more, emphasizing her big green eyes. The teenage softness was gone from her face.

She looked sleeker. Sexier—which was saying a lot, since her curves had been the wet dream of every guy on the team in high school. A turquoise top that looped behind her neck and left her shoulders bare showed off the deep vee between her breasts. Those lips that he remembered always being curved into a smile were pursed into a pout as she frowned down at a sheaf of documents. Brooke must be grounded by the hurricane, same as him.

Well, he couldn’t let a lady stay in distress. As adorable as the pout was, Logan wanted to see her smile at him again. Wanted it suddenly even more than that hot shower. So he angled right in front of her. “Welcome to Dominica, Miss Gallagher.”