Excerpt from Only One Chance

I try not to groan as I walk away from him to the tables. I go through the prizes—a signed puck, a signed jersey, a game in the press box, and four tickets to the All-Star game—and I bid on the All-Star game package, thinking that I could give it away on the air. I’m about to turn around when I bump into a hard chest. Male hands automatically grab my upper arms. “Careful, gorgeous.” I hear his voice and groan, then move my shoulders out of his touch. “What did you bid on?” he asks, walking to the table and going through the sheets. “Oh, look at this.” He picks up a sheet and flashes it my way. “A weekend away in a hidden cabin.” He winks at me. “What do you say? You, me?”
 
“How secluded is it?” I ask him, and he looks down at the paper. “Like, is there a chance they will find your dead body?” I laugh, and he just shakes his head. He’s about to say something else when I see a blonde walk our way. Her hips swing, and her tits bounce. “Incoming.” I motion with my head in the direction she’s coming from. It’s his turn now to groan. “Don’t lie, you love all this attention,” I say, and I’m about to walk away when the blonde steps in front of me.
 
“Miller.” She sings his name, walking to him and getting chest to chest with him. “I am so excited about the auction.” I roll my eyes and turn to walk away, but not before hearing her beg him to take her home tonight. 
 
I put my empty glass on a tray and grab another one when I hear Nico's voice fill the arena. “Testing one, two.” I look up and see that a spotlight is on him now. “Testing one, two.”
 
The chattering stops, and the room goes quiet. “If I can get everyone’s attention.” I look around now and spot Ralph and Candace sitting down at a table in front. I make my way through the crowd and find an empty chair beside Candace. I sit down and look over to see that Manning is sitting next to me, and his wife just glares at me. I smile at her and wave, but she turns her head, and I see Manning roll his lips. “Please help me welcome our captain Manning Stevenson.” The applause starts, and he gets up, and so does his wife, kissing him on the lips as though he won an award or something. He walks up the stairs while he wipes off his lips, and I giggle, which earns me another glare from his wife. 
 
“How drunk are you?” Candace says, leaning into me.
 
“Not drunk enough,” I say, taking another glass of champagne. “Cheers.” I hold up my glass, and she grabs her own, and we click glasses quietly. I listen half-heartedly to Manning’s speech about why we are here, and my curiosity has me looking around the room to see who else is here that I haven’t seen.
 
 I spot the owner of the station sitting at a table with a couple of the players and their wives. I look around and spot Miller standing with five other men on the side. Our eyes meet again, and this time, he winks. I roll my eyes and look away. What in the hell is wrong with you? This is the second time he’s caught you looking at him. And why are you looking at him? It must be the suit or the champagne. “I think this champagne is not good,” I whisper to Candace, who looks at me and smiles. “Can champagne go bad? Like, can it poison you?”
 
“No.” She takes a swallow from her glass. “Tastes fine to me.” She puts it down, and a waiter comes over and grabs the two empty glasses and puts two more on the table.
 
“Am I going to have to carry you into the house?” Ralph asks Candace.
 
I lean over Candace to whisper to Ralph. “Don’t pretend you don’t like drunk sex.” 
 
“I like drunk sex,” Candace says, not in a whisper, making Ralph just shake his head. I sit up now, looking at the stage as they bring the bachelors on stage. They introduce a couple of the rookies, and then they save Miller for last.
 
“And it is my greatest pleasure,” Manning says with a smile. “Introducing my assistant captain, or what I like to call him, Mr. GQ,” he says. The applause starts, and a couple of whistles are blown as he walks onto the stage and shakes Manning’s hand and then looks out into the crowd. 
 
“He’s so gross,” I say under my breath, and Candace laughs at me. The bidding starts with the rookie first. The highest bidder is five thousand dollars. The second one goes for the same price, and the third one goes for just a touch more. They all stay under five thousand dollars.
 
“Now,” Nico says, “it’s time for the last bachelor of the night.” The girls all cheer, and I look over at Candace, who laughs. “We are going to start the bidding off at—”
 
“Fifty cents.” I hold up my hand, and everyone laughs, even Miller.
 
“One thousand dollars,” one of the women on the side says, and Candace looks at me.
 
“Not worth it,” I say, drinking another sip. “So not worth it.” I look into the glass.
 
“Twelve hundred!” another woman shouts, and I look over at the woman who sits there with a huge smile on her face. 
 
“Fifteen hundred,” another one says. 
 
“Seventeen!” one woman shouts from the back.
 
“Ohh, this might be a hot ticket item,” Nico says, laughing. Miller just looks down and shakes his head.
 
“Two thousand,” the first one comes back with.
 
“Do I have twenty-one hundred?” Nico asks.
 
Now the girl who sang his name before shouts out, “Five thousand dollars!” The crowd gasps, and Miller just looks at her.
 
“Ten thousand dollars,” Nico says, pointing at the one who just shout out the highest bid, “Going once, going twice.”
 
“Twenty-five thousand dollars!” I shout. The words come out of my mouth before I can stop them, shocking everyone, especially me.
​

MORE ABOUT ONLY ONE CHANCE 

​Miller

They called me the pretty boy on and off the ice. Hockey’s most eligible bachelor.

When my teammate asked me to donate one date to his charity, I figured why not. Worst case, I’d spend the night with a fan. Best-case scenario, she would be hot. What I wasn’t expecting was for my dream girl to be the highest bidder.

For years, she brushed me off, and now, I finally had a chance to take her out and show her who I really was.

With only one shot at this, I really hoped I didn’t mess it up.

Layla

At the top of my career, I was riding the wave of my sports talk show having the best rating on the radio.

I also made it a rule to never date any sports players.

It was my one rule, and I was sticking to it until I bid on the only man who gets under my skin.

All it takes is one touch, one night, one kiss, and only one chance.
​

Excerpt from Only One Kiss

​Was he flirting with me? I look at his retreating back. “Don’t go there,” I say to myself. “Don’t think too much into it.” I grab my phone and make a couple of notes about things to do once I get home, and when I hear him walking into the room, I look up at him. “Is she out?”

“She is,” he says, putting the bottle in the sink. “It smells amazing.”

“I know.” I smirk as I walk to the stove and put the pasta in the boiling water. It’s been boiling for the past four minutes. “How long is she out for?”

“It’s Russian roulette.” He laughs, leaning back on the counter as he watches me stir the pasta. “It could be a ten-minute catnap, or it could be a seven-hour stretch.”

“If she gets up, I can get her,” I say, “so you can eat.”

“I have so much shit to do,” he says, and I look over my shoulder at him.

“Can I help?” The words are out of my mouth before I realize it.

“I mean, unless you know a babysitter.” He rubs his hands over his face.

“I could help out for a bit if you want.” What are you doing? The left side of my brain asks the right side.

“I couldn’t do that to you,” he says, taking a deep breath. “We need to discuss something,” he says. My heart skips a beat, and my hands suddenly start to shake, and I don’t know why. “Jesus,” he says. Putting his hand on the counter, he flexes his arm, and his T-shirt stretches so tight across his chest that I can see the definition of his pecs. “I don’t even know how to start this.”

“Well,” I say softly, looking back at the pasta. “I have been told that you should just say it like you’re ripping off a Band-Aid.”

“Really?” he says, folding his arms over his chest. I can tell he’s nervous about something.

“Really,” I say to him, suddenly afraid of what he is going to say. “Fine,” he finally says. I hold my breath, waiting for him to say the worst thing I can think of—that he doesn’t want me to come over anymore. “I want to fire you.” My mouth flies open. “But I know I need you.”

“Okay,” I say, not sure what to say. “Can I know why you want to fire me?”

“I need you to help me with social media. I need you to help me set up the foundation, and when I read the email you sent me two days ago, I was in awe. You just, you’re amazing,” he says, and the struggle on his face is real.

“So why would you want to fire me?” I ask him, my mouth suddenly dry, and the lump in my throat is forming. Tears sting my eyes, but I blink them away.

“Because,” he says softly, “I want to date you.” The words hit me straight in the heart, and my mouth opens. “I know it’s stupid,” he says, pushing off the counter. “And you don’t have to say anything.” I try to say something, anything, but the words are all stuck in my throat. “And it’ll probably be super awkward now, so you can ignore what I just said.”

“Why?” I ask him, and he just looks at me.

“Why?” he asks me, confused. “Like why do I want to date you, or why do I want you to ignore it?”

“You said that you can’t date anyone,” I remind him of his words.

“Yeah.” He nods, and the stove beeps, telling me that the pasta is ready. I drain the pasta and then put the pot down because my hands are shaking. I’m so confused right now. “Well, for the past ten days, all I did was think of you,” he says. He then comes over to me and grabs me by my hand to pull me to the couch. I walk with him to the couch, his hand sending lightning bolts up my arm. “Sit.” He points at the couch, and I sit just because I don’t think my legs can hold me up much longer. He sits on the table in front of me, and we are face-to-face now. “I tried to tell myself that I couldn’t do it. I tried to tell myself that I couldn’t do it to you. That you deserved much better than a single father who literally feels like he is failing every single day. But . . .” He laughs now. “But then all I could do was think about kissing you.”

​My heart speeds up to an unhealthy rate, and I would normally assume I’m having a heart attack, but I know that this is all because of the man sitting in front of me.

“You thought about kissing me?” I point at him and then myself.

“More times than is humanly possible,” he says with a sly smile. “I might have also thought of other things, but . . .” I laugh now, throwing my head back. “Which is why I’m so torn. I don’t want to take advantage of you.” His voice goes low, and he looks down, then up again. “I never want you to think I’m using you.” The fear returns to his eyes. “That is not my intention.”

My hand flies up to his face. Whereas before, I would never cross the line, something in me just won’t stop it, and the words come out in almost a whisper. “I want to date you, too.”

MORE ABOUT ONLY ONE KISS

​Ralph
Being traded to Dallas was a dream come true. I had everything I wanted, my game had never been better, and my wife was due to have our baby any day now.

What could go wrong?
Everything.

I was now raising our baby on my own. After hockey practice and games, I didn't have time to sleep, let alone make sure my social media was up to par.

I never thought I'd get a second chance at love.


Candace

When my hotshot brother was drafted in the NHL, he didn't have time to do his social media, so I took over for him. Little did I know it would become my career.

My plate was full with over fifty NHL players, and I wasn't taking on any new clients.

Yet when he showed up on my doorstep with the cutest little girl in the whole world, I couldn't say no.

I was just helping, but it turned into more than that. He's the man I've been waiting for.

All it takes is one touch, one night, one chance, and only one kiss.
​

MEET AUTHOR NATASHA MADISON

When USA Today Bestselling author Natasha Madison's nose isn't buried in a book, or her fingers flying across a keyboard writing, she's in the kitchen creating gourmet meals. You can find her, in four-inch heels no less, in the car chauffeuring kids, or possibly with her husband scheduling his business trips. It's a good thing her characters do what she says because even her Labrador doesn't listen to her...

Follow Natasha on Amazon

When her nose isn't buried in a book, or her fingers flying across a keyboard writing, she's in the kitchen creating gourmet meals. You can find her, in four inch heels no less, in the car chauffeuring kids, or possibly with her husband scheduling his business trips. It's a good thing her characters do what she says, because even her Labrador doesn't listen to her...


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