Always a Hero

Enjoy this sweet, small town contemporary romance from bestselling author Michelle MacQueen.

She's the firefighting do-gooder…

… and he's her best friend's younger brother.

How did she end up lip-locked with the awkward guy she's known her whole life?

Divorce isn't supposed to be like this. Marlee Blaine is finally free of the expectations, the disappointments. But dating isn't as easy as it once was. When she finds herself on the worst date of her life, she needs a safe way out.

Aidan James has always been safe, always played by the rules. He's spent his life as the sidekick in everyone else's story. Talking to women, or people in general, is anything but easy. So, when his sister's best friend kisses him in the middle of a crowded bar, his life goes haywire.

It doesn't mean anything to her, not like it does to him. Yet, when she comes to him in need again, he can't say no. This time, she wants his computer skills to help her promote the town's annual charity gala, a royal ball. Spending time with her is dangerous. Getting to know her away from his sister threatens to set fire to both their worlds.

The firefighter and the computer nerd shouldn't make sense. It can't feel this good.

If they're not careful, they'll both end up burned.

Escape into this sweet romance that will give you all the feels. Always a Hero is the fifth book in the Always in Love series. Enjoy small town beach life with sweet and swoony men, strong-willed women, and family ties that can't be broken.

Some girls aren’t good at being single. 

Me. I was some girls. 

Yet, I was divorced. Isn’t that just a kick to the gut? I didn’t miss my husband, not really. We probably never should have gotten married in the first place. I couldn’t explain what it was that was missing now. Companionship, maybe. But that made me sound like such a sad sack. I wasn’t; I promise. 

It wasn’t something to contemplate on a Saturday night while I sat across from a man who was decidedly not going to make it into the Marlee Blaine Hall of Fame. Maybe if there was a category for hilariously bad dates. 

He checked his phone for what had to be the thousandth time and started tapping away on the smudged touchscreen, a hint of a smile appearing on his admittedly gorgeous lips. They were a dark red, and the first thing I’d noticed was how perfect they’d be to kiss. 

Too bad the man they belonged to skyrocketed on the creep-o-meter the moment he opened his mouth. 

I focused on the giant burger in front of me, something I’d ordered the moment I realized I wouldn’t sing Mark’s praises from the small-town Gulf City rooftops. Normally, I was more careful on dates. Not because I cared what they saw me eating. 

Because I, Marlee Blaine, was a gigantic mess. Not just in the always-look-like-I-just-rolled-out-of-bed way, though I did. More in the can’t-help-dropping-ketchup-on-my-shirt way. 

I managed to stop a glob with my finger right before it hit my white sweater. My mom always told me not to wear white while I ate, but that wasn’t the only piece of advice from her I ignored. 

Be happy with yourself before needing to be happy with someone else. 

Never go somewhere loud for a first date.

Dating apps have too many creeps. 

She may have been right about that last one, but when a person lived in a small town, they had to find some way to meet people outside town limits—people they hadn’t known their entire lives. 

Mark finally lifted his gaze and set his phone face up on the table. “You really should have gotten something less messy.” He eyed the dripping burger with disgust. The Cracked Spine and Brew had the juiciest burgers, and I wasn’t ashamed of how much I loved them. 

“You really should spend less time looking at your phone.” My voice was muffled behind my burger as I took a giant bite. 

“What?” 

“Nothing.” 

He pursed his lips, reaching for his third beer and drinking it like it was water. “This place isn’t exactly classy.” His eyes drifted from the wooden high-top tables to the bar and finally to the darkened half of the business that contained the best bookstore in this part of Florida. 

“And what would you consider classy?” I knew his type, should have seen it from his profile. He considered a suit casual as long as he didn’t wear a tie, shined his shoes like there was no tomorrow, and couldn’t go five seconds without looking at his phone. There was most likely one of two types of people texting him:

1. The girl he refused to commit to so he could play the field. 

2. A business client who felt entitled to every moment of his time. 

He set his fork down next to the filet on his plate. “For starters, somewhere a little cleaner.” By clean, he meant sterile. One of those restaurants where I might as well have been dead for all the entertainment there’d have been. Where food mattered more than the atmosphere. 

I hated quiet, hated calm. “Sounds boring.” 

He made a sound of disapproval in the back of his throat, and I could tell exactly what he was thinking. It’s a good thing she’s got a nice rack. That was what most people saw of me first. 

I wasn’t thin, nor did I have the refinement of someone who made a good first impression on a date. My hair refused to be tamed, wild auburn waves cascading down my back. And my wardrobe wasn’t up to the standards of the business elite I couldn’t seem to escape. 

Then, there was the matter of my job. Most dates couldn’t handle what I did for a living. 

I tapped my fingers against the table, trying to find something, anything, to say. My best friend saved me, stepping up to our table. 

“How is everything tonight?” Angelina asked. She owned the place with her sister. It was why I’d suggested it for the first date since my divorce. She could always tell when something made me uncomfortable. 

I offered her a wry smile, one she’d read as well as any book. “Food is great.” 

Angelina’s lips flatlined. It was the look she wore whenever she was trying desperately not to roll her eyes. As a proudly single business owner, she didn’t understand my need to date so soon after ending my marriage. 

“My steak is overcooked.” Mark lifted his plate toward her. “I’d appreciate it if this was taken off the bill.” 

He’d eaten most of it, and all I could do was stare at him as Angelina took the well-done steak—which was exactly what he’d asked for. That should have been my first red flag. Who ate their meat well done? Serial killers, probably. 

Angelina’s eyes said what her lips could not, sending daggers right through my date’s heart. “Of course. We want you to be satisfied with your meal.” She shot me another look before heading toward the kitchen.

Mark took the napkin from his lap and folded it neatly on the table. The noise reached us from a nearby table, where a couple was doubled over in laughter. Mark scowled at the commotion, but it brought a smile to my face. 

I wanted that… whatever it was. At times in my marriage, I thought I’d had that happiness, the joy. We’d laughed together, but the years had changed us, and in the end, that laughter had turned to arguments. It wasn’t until our relationship ended that I realized I’d never truly been myself with him. 

Now, here I was across from a complete stranger, watching other people enjoy their lives. 

“I’m going to use the restroom.” Mark stood. “Why don’t you pay for your meal, and then we can go back to my place for a nightcap.” He didn’t wait for an answer before walking away. 

I wasn’t stupid. I knew what nightcap meant. It was hoity-toity for Netflix and chill. There was no way on this green earth I was going home with that man. His cultivated good looks weren’t enough to get past the obnoxious personality. 

Sorry, bro. 

I pulled out my phone to text Angelina to come out of the kitchen to save me. She didn’t respond right away. A family emergency could work, but there was only one person who’d no doubt help with that. Texting Mitch didn’t come without hazards, but he always came through. 

Except now. No response. 

What I really needed to do was tell this guy to get lost, that I wasn’t interested in ever seeing that smug face of his again. 

Who was I kidding? Marlee Blaine never did anything that could hurt a person’s feelings, even when I wasn’t sure if those feelings existed. I had to find some kind of excuse. 

As Mark made his way back to the table, bumping a few people out of his path, I stood, looking for my escape. When he reached me, he slid an arm over my shoulders. “Want to get out of here?”

No, I really didn’t. Here was safe. Here wouldn’t subject me to an entire evening of this guy acting like he’d call me again. His breath smelled of craft beer. The expensive fabric of his suit was soft against my bare arm. 

And the body beneath? A wall of pure muscle I may have fallen for at one point in the past. Before I learned some hard truths. 

The door opened, drawing my eye to where my best friend’s brother stumbled in. Aidan adjusted his glasses but didn’t bother smoothing his wind-blown hair. He looked out of place, and yet, he fit in his sister’s brewery. 

The words sort of spilled out before I could stop them. “Oh no. He shouldn’t be here.” 

Mark tensed, his arm still around me. “Who?” 

I put a hand on his chest. “Give me a minute to get rid of my boyfriend, and then we can go back to your place.” I didn’t condone cheating. It was about the worst thing a person could do to another, but did fake cheating count? 

“We can get out of here without him seeing.” Mark didn’t let me go, leaning in. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll make you forget he even exists.” 

Disgust wound through me. Wasn’t there some kind of bro code or something? “No, I need to convince him to leave before he sees you.”

This time, I tugged away from him. He tried to hold me back, and the red flags blared in my head, screaming that I needed to get away. 

My feet started toward where Aidan stood next to the bar talking to his sister. They both looked at me as I approached. Angelina started to talk, but I cut her off. 

“Aidan, I need you to kiss me.”