Here Comes My Man

  Lauren Blakely

  To my husband. Thank you for all the sandwiches.

  Contents

  Also by Lauren Blakely

  About

  Here Comes My Man

  Part One

  Prologue

  1. Things That Suck

  2. Bionic Sharks Descended from Mount Olympus

  3. Just a Friend

  4. The Ice Age

  5. First Rehearsal

  6. My New Nemesis

  7. Red Carpet Smoothness, at Your Service

  8. Blowing It

  9. Recurring Dirty Daydream

  10. The Proof is in the Limo

  11. Being Cheeky

  12. When We Were Good, We Were Really Good

  13. Twenty Questions About Other Men

  14. Don’t Take This the Wrong Way

  15. I Am A Furnace, He Is A Cat

  Part Two

  16. Walk of Shame

  17. Secret Real Date

  18. The Risks of Sardining

  19. My Secret Cave in Middle Earth

  20. Some Albatrosses

  21. The Real Score

  22. Allyship and Manners

  23. Ping-Pong Table Sword Fighting

  24. Return to Sender

  25. Second Chance Shopping

  26. Reality Check

  27. Rhinos and Honey Badgers

  28. Welcome to the Club

  29. Once Upon a Time

  30. The Cockblocker and The Handyman

  31. A Pig at Market

  32. Definitely Liam

  33. An Open Book

  34. I Hope You Have Not Been Leading a Double Life

  35. Let’s Be Wicked

  36. Sex Magician

  37. The Case of The Reappearing Pages

  Epilogue

  Final epilogue

  Also by Lauren Blakely

  Contact

  Copyright © 2022 by Lauren Blakely

  Cover Design by TE Black.

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book. This contemporary romance is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners. This book is licensed for your personal use only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with, especially if you enjoy sexy romance novels with alpha males. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Also by Lauren Blakely

  Big Rock Series

  Big Rock

  Mister O

  Well Hung

  Full Package

  Joy Ride

  Hard Wood

  * * *

  Happy Endings Series

  Come Again

  Shut Up and Kiss Me

  Kismet

  My Single-Versary

  * * *

  Ballers And Babes

  Most Valuable Playboy

  Most Likely to Score

  A Wild Card Kiss

  * * *

  Rules of Love Series

  The Virgin Rule Book

  The Virgin Game Plan

  The Virgin Replay

  The Virgin Scorecard

  * * *

  Hopelessly Bromantic Duet (MM)

  Hopelessly Bromantic

  Here Comes My Man

  * * *

  Men of Summer Series (MM)

  Scoring With Him

  Winning With Him

  All In With Him

  * * *

  The Guys Who Got Away Series

  Dear Sexy Ex-Boyfriend

  The What If Guy

  Thanks for Last Night

  The Dream Guy Next Door

  * * *

  The Gift Series

  The Engagement Gift

  The Virgin Gift

  The Decadent Gift

  * * *

  The Extravagant Series

  One Night Only

  One Exquisite Touch

  My One-Week Husband

  * * *

  MM Standalone Novels

  A Guy Walks Into My Bar

  One Time Only

  The Bromance Zone

  The Best Men (Co-written with Sarina Bowen)

  * * *

  The Heartbreakers Series

  Once Upon a Real Good Time

  Once Upon a Sure Thing

  Once Upon a Wild Fling

  * * *

  Boyfriend Material

  Asking For a Friend

  Sex and Other Shiny Objects

  One Night Stand-In

  * * *

  Lucky In Love Series

  Best Laid Plans

  The Feel Good Factor

  Nobody Does It Better

  Unzipped

  * * *

  Always Satisfied Series

  Satisfaction Guaranteed

  Instant Gratification

  Overnight Service

  Never Have I Ever

  PS It’s Always Been You

  Special Delivery

  * * *

  The Sexy Suit Series

  Lucky Suit

  Birthday Suit

  * * *

  From Paris With Love

  Wanderlust

  Part-Time Lover

  * * *

  One Love Series

  The Sexy One

  The Only One

  The Hot One

  The Knocked Up Plan

  Come As You Are

  * * *

  Standalones

  Stud Finder

  The V Card

  The Real Deal

  Unbreak My Heart

  The Break-Up Album

  * * *

  The Caught Up in Love Series

  The Pretending Plot

  The Dating Proposal

  The Second Chance Plan

  The Private Rehearsal

  * * *

  Seductive Nights Series

  Night After Night

  After This Night

  One More Night

  A Wildly Seductive Night

  About

  A red-hot, enemies-to-lovers, fake boyfriend, second chance romance, and the conclusion to the Hopelessly Bromantic Duet!

  Let me just say this -- fake dating the cocky movie star was not my idea. Especially since he’s my former roomie and, gulp, my secret ex.

  But my agent tells me I have no choice since I’m ridiculously overdue with turning in the next big blockbuster love story to my publisher.

  Not to mention, ahem, writing it.

  Falling for the smooth-talking English hottie once upon a time -- fine, twice -- were huge mistakes that I shouldn’t repeat, but pretending to like the guy who broke my heart is my only chance at saving my job.

  That is, as long as no one finds out that every date we go on, every smile we flash each other for the cameras, and every hot, desperate kiss on the streets of Manhattan is absolutely fake.

  Except…it’s not. At least for me.

  And he can never know…

  Contents Include: Snarky banter, sexy dates, hate s-e-x, seduction by a wordsmith, and two strong, stubborn, clever men determined to resist each other at all costs.

  Here Comes My Man

  Book 2 in the Hopelessly Bromantic Duet

  By Lauren Blakely

  * * *

  Want to be the first to learn of sales, new releases, preorders and special freebies? Sign up for my MM VIP mailing list here! You’ll also get free books from bestselling authors in a selection curated just for you!

  * * *

  PRO TIP: Add lauren@laurenblakely.com to your contacts before signing up to make sure the emails go to your inbox!

  * * *

  Did you know this book is also available in audio and paperback on all major retailers? Go to my website for links!

  Part One

  * * *

  Ten Months After Los Angeles

  * * *

  And then we meet again . . .

  Prologue

  Lost and Found: Desperately Seeking My Missing Mojo

  TJ

  I have a dirty little secret.

  Everyone thinks they know why my pen ran dry. The answer seems obvious if you catalog the public events I was at the center of—and people do that frequently.

  He’s the guy who was dumped on national TV by the chicken dude. No wonder TJ Hardman’s in a funk. I mean, could you write an epic love story if that happened to you?

  The evidence does seem to add up. Exactly one year ago, my face went viral as the ouch, that’s gotta hurt guy when the dude who ran a chicken café said “see you later” to me on a New York morning show.

  But the day my keyboard went silent was a couple of months later, when I got on a plan
e in Los Angeles and flew away from the swooniest guy I’ve ever known.

  I haven’t dispelled the rumors, though, because the public story suits me. It hurts less than the private tale that exposes my deepest hopes and dreams. My dreams of Jude. Dreams that died when I packed my suitcase and left him, returning to New York.

  So, what’s my dirty little secret?

  I’m both the public guy who got dumped on TV, and I’m the private guy who walked away from America’s newest heartthrob. I see Jude’s face on the sides of buses, on tops of taxi cabs, on my TV, on my phone, on my social media. He’s everywhere, with a smile that charms millions—but it charmed me first.

  That man is also lodged somewhere deep in my heart and soul.

  He’s the reason I’m stuck. Somehow, though, I’ve got to figure out how to write my way out of this heartache. But some stories often surprise even the writer, and Jude’s return to my life is the plot twist I didn’t see coming.

  1

  Things That Suck

  TJ

  A lot of things suck, like bad coffee, seventies music, and regret.

  But live and learn. Move the fuck on.

  Blasting my newest anti-romance playlist, I run through Central Park on a Wednesday afternoon. It’s one of the rare spots in New York free of any posters, billboards, or commercials featuring Jude Fox’s face promoting his new movie.

  Away from his chiseled features, smoldering eyes, and see-inside-my-soul stare, maybe I can find a great meet-cute concept for my next book.

  Like over there on the Great Lawn, where dudes toss frisbees to each other. Maybe one guy accidentally whacks another with a flying disc. Perhaps in the jaw.

  Bam—instant meet-cute.

  But instant ER-visit? Not cute.

  What about the carousel—horses are cool, and so are amusement park rides.

  But sexual tension on a kiddie merry-go-round is not cool. It’s pretty fucking creepy.

  Why are ideas so hard?

  Ah, I’ve got it. I know where to go.

  I cut across the park, making a beeline for Bethesda Terrace. That picturesque spot has romance written all over it. I bet there are a thousand proposals there each year. I’ll watch a few till I crack the case of the missing inspiration I need for the book that’s massively overdue to my publisher.

  I’m almost at the terrace when a food truck comes into view, and I do a double-take.

  Wait. A Wing and a Prayer is peddling its rotisserie birds in Central Park? I slow my pace as I study the fire-engine red vehicle. I didn’t know that Flynn—the guy I dated before Jude reached into my chest, grabbed my pathetic heart, and yanked it out to feed vultures—had opened a food truck for his chicken café.

  But one hundred feet away, parked along the road in Central Park, is the architect of the public’s perception of my poor romantic sitch. I haven’t seen him since he broke up with me on TV a year ago—the guy who just wanted someone to love him for his chicken.

  Flynn turns away from the ordering window to peck the cheek of the other cook.

  Wow.

  I stop in my tracks. And yes! Holy fuck, yes!

  Inspiration just sauntered in like a badass pimp in a faux fur leopard-spotted jacket. I give a perfunctory wave to Flynn. In his chef’s apron, streaked with chicken barbecue sauce, he blinks, then waves back a few seconds later. The guy next to him does the same. They look sheepish. Like they think I’m bothered by seeing them together, being all flirty and lovey.

  Please. They’re not Jude. They’re merely story fodder.

  I fly home on fleet feet to Chelsea, bound up four flights of stairs, flip open my laptop, and crack my knuckles.

  It is on.

  After the ten long, painful, idea-free months since I left California, words now flow out of my head and onto the page. I don’t even need a coffee shop to write. Nope. I’ve been transformed. I can write at home.

  Goodbye, trash can full of proverbial crumpled-up pieces of paper.

  Hello, brilliant idea for my next novel.

  And the best part? This new story has nothing to do with Jude.

  A few days and countless cups of home-brewed coffee later, I’ve got almost ten chapters. After a quick re-read on ye olde laptop, I send this puppy to my agent.

  Five minutes later, Mason replies with a hallelujah and tells me to swing by in an hour since he’ll have read it by then.

  I pump a fist then push away from the couch to take a shower. Even when inspiration strikes, I’d never leave the house smelling, well, the way people think writers smell.

  My goal in life is to smell like a magazine ad looks, and I accomplish that in twenty minutes, though I could use a haircut soon. I text my barber buddy to schedule one as I get dressed quickly, tugging on jeans and grabbing a short-sleeve button-down I snagged at a thrift shop.

  But I stop before I put on the shirt, taking a good, long look at it. Why do I still have this? I thought I got rid of this one with the fox illustrations. Yet another thing that makes me remember Jude.

  Don’t need any assistance on that front, brain.

  Like it’s constructed from biohazard waste, I stuff it into a canvas bag to donate stat.

  Bye-bye, anything with foxes.

  I return to my closet to hunt for a shirt that doesn’t make me think of the guy whose face is everywhere these days.

  Including in my head.

  Far. Too. Often.

  Ah, perfect. This purple shirt has tiny illustrations of vinyl records on it. I check my reflection. Much better. I head uptown on another unseasonably warm March morning in Manhattan—no jacket required. I push through the revolving glass door of CTM, eager for Mason’s feedback.

  A minute later, I exit the elevator on the eleventh floor. From behind the reception desk, Rachel waves excitedly at me, her chunky bracelets jingling and jangling against themselves, revealing bits and pieces of the tattoos of vines that line her arms. “It’s been forever, TJ! Good to see you again. Mason said to just wave you in.”

  “Thank you, Rachel. It’s great to see you too,” I say. It is, indeed, good to be back in the land of, well, writers who write.

  When I reach Mason’s corner suite, he’s seated at his desk, scratching his head.

  Huh.

  I was kind of hoping he’d be standing in the doorway, blowing a trumpet as he hailed my return.

  A mild foreboding tickles my brain. Maybe that’s just nerves, though. Normal ones and all.

  Parking my hands on my hips, I clear my throat. “Hello? Where is the parade? The ticker tape? The marching band? I’ll wait for them but, man, I expected you to be a little faster.”