How to Nail a Stud

by Katharine Sadler

Genres: Romance; Billionaires Romance; Contemporary Romance

Synopsis

First impressions matter, but they aren’t everything.

The single dad next door has a fit body, eyes a girl could get lost in, and a jaw sharp enough to cut through anyone’s bad day.
What he doesn’t have? The basic etiquette to say hello to Shel Tinsdale when they pass on the street.

Until she trips over her dog and he catches her. She’s covered in grease and oil –she hadn’t been expecting a close encounter of the sexy kind – and manages to fumble the conversation entirely.

To her surprise, he doesn’t run from her screaming, in fact… is that interest in his eyes?

Max Mason has made some idiotic mistakes in his life. The kind of mistakes that resulted in jail time and took him away from his daughter for the first four years of her life.

Getting involved with his sexy neighbor is exactly the sort of distraction he should avoid, but he just can’t seem to stay away.

How to Nail a Stud is a billionaire, friends to lovers, neighbors romance with a rock and roll soundtrack, an adorable six-year-old, and a goofy Saint Bernard. It ends with an HEA and no cliffhangers.

Release date: April 15, 2021

Sample

CHAPTER THREE

 

 

2021

Shel wiped one greasy hand on her worn out jeans and stood. It'd taken some work to clean the air filter, change the oil, oil the chain, and wash her motorcycle, especially in the heat of midday, springtime Las Vegas, but it was worth it. Her baby looked practically new and ready for anything. She propped her hands on her hips, Nature’s Mother rocking her ears through her earbuds, and stepped back to check out her work from another angle.

She tripped over something warm and furry. Her body tilted and she windmilled her arms to try and recover her balance, but there was no stopping her descent. She yelped and twisted just enough to see Addy Mason's blond braids and the black and white fur of her St. Bernard, Rabbit, before warm hands wrapped around her biceps and pushed her back up to a stand.

She yanked out her earbuds and spun to find herself face to face with her neighbor, Max Mason. Shel swallowed hard and did her best to look like she hadn't nearly eaten asphalt.

Why had she never learned to be cool? Spending a good portion of her life on the road with rock bands should have taught her, but no dice.

She forced a smile and Max's brow furrowed. Damn it, she'd smiled weird.

"Sorry." He gestured to his six-year-old daughter. "Addy ran over here before I could stop her. Your dog settled right behind you to visit with her."

Shel didn't have to force a smile when she looked down at Addy. The little girl was always welcome in her yard to visit with Rabbit.

It was because of Addy that Shel even knew Max's name. She'd also learned from the talkative little girl that Max worked hard as a construction foreman, that he gave the best hugs, and that he used funny voices when he read to Addy.

Shel had figured out all on her own that Max had piercing blue eyes, a body packed with muscle, and an ass that looked equally good in running shorts, jeans, and cargo pants.

She'd learned nothing from Max directly, because he'd never said more than a brief hello to her in passing. As sweet as Addy was, Max was curt and borderline rude. She'd gotten the message, to her disappointment, that he wasn't interested in getting to know her better.

Unfortunately, her body hadn't gotten the message, which meant she was going to act weird. It was a given. Talking to guys she lusted after was a skill she'd never managed to master. The guys she felt only sisterly love for, though, those guys she could talk to all day long.

"Rabbit's always happy to see Addy." There. She'd managed to spit out an entire sentence without sounding awkward or weird. Of course, she hadn't made eye contact, but words were progress. She wasn't going to give Max the satisfaction of knowing he made her uncomfortable.

"Rabbit?" Oh, sweet puppy love, he had a deliciously deep voice. "This monster of a dog is named Rabbit?"

She lifted her head and met his gaze. Those blue eyes knocked her off balance, but he was speaking her language, sort of, and she managed to recover. "He’s named after Rabid Rabbit."

He gave her a blank look, and her heart sank.

"Maniacal Beasts? Sailing for Pirates? Any of this registering?" Rabid Rabbit was one of the most well-known metal performers and his band Maniacal Beasts had gotten nearly non-stop radio play in the early 2000s. She couldn’t imagine Max hadn’t at least heard their biggest hit, Sailing for Pirates.

He stared. Still nothing. Well, good. His knowing nothing about music confirmed they were unsuited for each other. 

She sighed. "He ate worms on that reality show about dating a rock star."

Finally, his confusion cleared, though his frown didn't lift. "You named your dog after a guy who eats worms?”

"I like his music." She felt defensive on the rocker's behalf. She'd never personally met the guy, but she'd met plenty of other rock stars. They were an oft maligned and misunderstood breed. "And my Rabbit has a similar personality."

He frowned, his expression radiating disapproval. "He eats worms?”

"No. I mean maybe. I suppose he might try to eat worms, but it’s unlikely. He’s afraid of spiders, so..." She was going off the rails again. "What I mean by similar personality is that Rabbit, the dog, is mostly lazy, but given to moments of almost manic activity and bizarre doings, like chewing through a dozen toilet paper rolls and…" She noticed Max's lips twitching, his eyes twinkling. "You're messing with me."

"Partly. I didn't know who you were talking about until you mentioned Sailing for Pirates. You were so shocked by my ignorance, I couldn't resist teasing."

She swallowed back her own smile. The guy was not as funny or as cute as he thought he was. Not at all. She offered her hand. "Shelley Tinsdale."

"Maxwell Mason. It's nice to meet you."

When he pulled his hand free of hers, his palm was streaked black. Oops. She'd forgotten how messy she was. She held up the offending greasy hand. "Sorry. I got you dirty."

He smiled. "I don't mind a little dirt." His gaze slipped down her body and her heart started up a mad tempo. Had he just flirted with her? Oh, my god, he'd actually—

She looked down at herself--raggedy Amber Midnight tour tank and jeans covered in a fresh layer of dust and grease. Like a record scratching, reality sank in. "Right. Yeah. I'm not always this dirty. I shower every day, and I usually do wear clothes that fit me. I was just working on my bike and… Well, you know." Damn it. She'd been doing so well. Okay, she'd been doing somewhat decently.

"Can I go for a ride on your bike, Miss Tinsdale?" Addy said, popping up next to her dad.

"Oh, well…" Shel looked to Max. She had no idea what the rules were about six-year-olds and motorcycles.

"Maybe when you're older, honey. Like forty-five." He took a step back and Shel winced. This guy couldn't get away from her fast enough. "We've taken up enough of your time. Thank you for letting her pet Rabbit."

"Any time. Rabbit adores the attention. Addy and… Well, you are welcome here any time. Any time I'm home, I mean. Don't just break in to cuddle with Rabbit. Not that you would…" Why, oh, why did she have to be so weird?

Max smiled, one big hand on his daughter's shoulder, and walked backward for a few steps before lifting his free hand in a wave and turning to the house. Shel managed to hold it together until she was back in her own house and had shut the door.

She gave herself a minute to lean against the door before she asked her electronic assistant to turn up some loud, heavy music. Then, finally, she screamed in utter frustration. She was thirty years old for fuck's sake, would she ever learn to act like a normal human being around a sexy guy?

Feeling a bit better, she lowered the volume on the music and walked to the bathroom without banging her head against any of the walls she passed. She should get a medal for maturity and restraint. In the bathroom, she stripped naked and started the water running. She happened to catch a glimpse of herself in the mirror as she scrubbed her hands. With a groan, she angled her face upwards, but there was no mistaking the streak of grease from her right ear across her nose and both cheekbones.

With a groan of disgust, she dropped her head and focused on scrubbing. Max didn't deserve her angst. He'd made no effort to get to know her, and he was definitely not her type. She didn't need to be dating a guy with a kid. Probably. Maybe. Ugh. She couldn't lie to herself. She loved kids.

She drew on her inner rock star and did her best to convince herself she was a tough, independent woman who didn't need a man.

After her shower, she found herself dialing her best friend, the drummer in their little rock band, Quotidian. "I talked to him," she said as soon as Lilah answered.

"Oooh, good for you. Were you wearing that new bra that makes you look like you have cleavage?"

"Nope. He kind of caught me by surprise. Besides, we decided I'm not interested in him, remember?"

"I'm putting you on speaker. Nate is going to want to hear this."

Shel rolled her eyes but didn't argue. Nate was Lilah's husband and the lead guitarist in Quotidian. Nate was also Shel's best friend and had been since childhood. If he didn't hear the story from Shel, he'd hear it from Lilah and Lilah often got the details wrong, usually in an attempt to paint Shel in a better light, but still. "Hey, Shel-ster, what's up?"

"Hey, Nate. I was just telling Lilah that I talked to Max and—"

"Did you bake cookies?"

Shel snorted. She'd told Lilah and Nate about Max when he moved in next door, and they'd jokingly made a plan for how she'd get to know him. Starting with cookies because who didn't love cookies?

"He showed up unexpectedly while I was doing some basic maintenance on Mia." Hell, yes, she'd named her motorcycle after iconic rock vocalist Mia Dodge.

Nate and Lilah groaned.

"At least tell me you said something clever and flirty," Lilah said.

Shel snorted. "Have you met me?"

"Tell us everything," Nate said. The man was a huge gossip, but he also gave killer advice, especially concerning men.

She filled them in on the conversation. "Tell me the truth, Nate. Did I completely and utterly fail at adulting?"

"Um… Were you wearing the Amber Midnight shirt from Lost Cause, or the one from their Revulsion tour?"

She said nothing. She didn't need to.

"Right. You looked like a greasy derelict and you weren't even wearing something that might have shown off body parts that could have made up for your lack of witty conversation."

"You can say tits and ass," Lilah said. "I won't be jealous."

"Eww. I am not going to talk about Shel's bikini areas. I am just not going to go there."

"So, I blew it," Shel said. "Faced with an attractive man, I totally blew it like I always do. Not that it matters since he's a jerk, but even as a practice dummy, he proved that I have not gained any swagger in the past year."

"Come out with us, tonight," Lilah said. "I'll be your wing woman. Nate can introduce you to his friends—"

"She's dated all my friends."

"It's fine," Shel said. "I've got bus duty tomorrow. I need to be at school before the rooster crows."

"Okay," Lilah said. "Night, sweetie. We'll see you Thursday for band practice?"

"Always." Shel hung up and curled up on the couch with Rabbit and her notebook to write. When life gave her lemons, she made songs of them.

***