THE GOOD GUY CHALLENGE

  LAUREN BLAKELY

  CONTENTS

  Copyright

  Also By Lauren Blakely

  About The Good Guy Challenge

  Did you know?

  The Good Guy Challenge

  Monday

  1. Better than a Screaming Orgasm

  2. Unspanked

  3. A Thing for Bad Boys

  Tuesday

  4. A Priest, a Monk, and a Missionary

  5. Fill Her Stocking

  6. Very Big Binoculars

  7. My Teenage Wet Dream

  8. Early Bedtime

  9. Handy Lessons

  10. Why I Like Pink

  11. Gabe Cocktail

  Wednesday

  12. A Box for Your Box

  13. That’s a New Mini Golf Strategy

  14. Caught in the Act

  Thursday

  15. The Morning After

  16. Good Behavior

  17. You Have the Right

  Friday

  18. Can’t Get My Mind off You

  19. Monster Feelings

  20. Practice Makes Perfect

  21. Forgive Me, Father

  22. A Ping-Pong Kind of Thing

  23. Dog Kisses

  Saturday

  24. I’ve Got This

  25. Croquet Oomph

  Sunday

  26. My Big Chance

  27. It Was Obvious

  28. Is This Seat Taken?

  29. New Necklace

  30. Matchmaker

  31. A Couple of Word Devourers

  32. My Cheerleader

  Epilogue

  Final Epilogue

  Sneak Peeks

  Also by Lauren Blakely

  Contact

  COPYRIGHT

  Copyright © 2022 by Lauren Blakely

  LaurenBlakely.com

  Cover Design by © Kate Farlow

  Photo: Wander Aguiar

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means whatsoever without express written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. 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 is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, events and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  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

  Two A Day

  Plays Well With Others

  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 THE GOOD GUY CHALLENGE

  Fake real dating the one who got away? Sign me up…

  There’s just something about bad boys. Tattoos and leather jackets, am I right?

  Trouble is, my last boyfriend was a teensy bit too bad and now he’s in prison. Yikes.

  When my friends challenge me to take a dip in the good guy side of the dating pool, I see their dating bet and I raise it, looking up the guy I crushed on growing up.

  With a winning grin and heart of gold, Gabe Clements is now the star receiver for a pro football team.

  Except, the supposed good guy turns out to be nothing like I imagined. He’s better. He’s growly, possessive, smoldering.

  And he’s determined too. At the end of the night, he asks me to be his fake real girlfriend for the rest of the week.

  Sounds like my kind of dating challenge since he’s a good guy by day, and a very dirty man after dark.

  I’ll cure my bad boy blues in no time.

  Well, as long as I don’t fall for Gabe’s big heart too.

  DID YOU KNOW?

  By Lauren Blakely

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

  THE GOOD GUY CHALLENGE

  BY LAUREN BLAKELY

  Heat Warning! This book contains some seriously spicy scenes. All the sex is consensual, and if you want to know the type of kinks these characters enjoy, with safe words picked and verbal consent given, please go to my website. If you don’t, proceed and get a fan!

  MONDAY

  A Day for Big Things Ahead

  1

  BETTER THAN A SCREAMING ORGASM

  Ellie

  I can see the sign for my Venice Beach exit up ahead, past all the cars at a dead stop. LA traffic…we’ll move eventually. I’d be copacetic if I didn’t have to pee so freaking badly.

  Too bad I can’t cross my legs as I drive.

  I mean, as I wait.

  I wiggle my rear, then I squeeze my thighs.

  I can do this.

  “We’re almost there,” I say to my girl in the back seat.

  Gigi side-eyes me from her dog bed, a look that says I don’t buy that bullshit and you don’t either.

  “I swear. We’ll be there in no time.”

  Lies. Sweet little lies.

  “Look, girlie girl. The GPS says we’ll be there in”—I glance at the app mocking my hopes from the dashboard of the cherry-red convertible—“in thirty minutes.”

  I slump. Thirty minutes for one stinking mile.

  She turns around, flipping her tail at me.

  I get her. I so do.

  “It’ll be worth it, I promise. Once we’re settled into our new home, it’s going to be amazing. There’s no snow in Los Angeles, and I’m pretty sure there won’t be street rats,” I say. God, I hope not. I’m so over rats, and subways, and piss on the street.

  Dammit. Why did I have to think about pee again?

  I stare longingly at the console between the seats, where my empty t
ravel mug invites me to relieve the pressure.

  Last resort, Ellie.

  “Any minute. We’ll be there any minute,” I say, fighting off the temptation with cheer. “As long as I don’t pee all over the seat. And don’t you do that either,” I warn my six-pound pup.

  From the back seat, Gigi barks once, a declarative arf that loosely translates to as if.

  “Fine, fine. It’s my fault. I should not have had that last caramel iced latte in Santa Barbara, but TJ said it was a delish coffee shop and—oh!”

  I turn forward to see that traffic has miraculously parted like the Red Sea. This is better than a screaming orgasm!

  I grip the wheel and press the gas in my tricked-out electric, which I picked up in San Francisco over the weekend.

  “We need a final song,” I tell Gigi. Because life’s big moments demand anthems, and I have just the tune. I open a playlist, then put “Runnin’ Down a Dream” on repeat. Now there’s no chance of another song playing when I roll up to my new home.

  The sun is dropping toward the horizon, Tom Petty is my companion, and soon I’m cruising the streets of my Venice neighborhood, bursting—literally almost bursting—with excitement.

  “One more minute till we can whiz,” I sing. My phone trills an accompaniment.

  Of course. I swear my mom has a sixth sense for my every move. I click accept. “Hi, Mom. How are you?”

  “Much better now,” she says with obvious relief.

  That’s odd. I talked to her this morning, and she seemed fine then. “Were you sick earlier? Everything okay?” I ask, concerned for her as I scan for street signs in my new neighborhood.

  “No, just worried. About you.”

  Ah. Got it. “Nothing to worry about anymore. I’m almost there. Only four-tenths of a mile to go.” And my bladder is counting every fraction of that mile.

  “I know,” Mom says serenely.

  I laugh. That is so her. It’s sweet but scary how well she knows me. “I’m sure you timed exactly how many rest stops I’d take, how many coffees I’d down, and how many dog walks I’d stop for, and you guesstimated my average speed,” I say as I slow to a stop at the intersection.

  One more block. I can see my new street up ahead. Freedom is nigh!

  “Two coffees, three dog bathroom breaks, and sixty-five to seventy miles per hour. Am I right?”

  “Whoa. Did you put a chip in me?” I joke because that’s impressive.

  I tap the gas one more time.

  She laughs like that’s a loony thought. “Of course not. That’s just mother’s intuition,” she says as I turn onto my new block. “I knew you got in okay because I’ve been tracking your location on Waze.”

  “Mom!” I shriek. That explains so much. “I told you not to stalk me anymore!”

  “What? Everyone does it,” she says as I scan the block of cottages for number 583.

  “Everyone does not do it. Only helicopter moms do it.”

  “That’s not true. Joanie tracks Mariana, Suzi tracks Taylor, and—”

  “Helicopter moms,” I repeat as I hit the blinker, the cute metal numbers for 583 calling me home.

  “Ellie, sweetheart. You shared your location with me on Waze. I saved it. So sue me.”

  “I did that…years ago,” I sputter. I was home from college for the summer, and it was the only way she’d let me borrow her car to go out with that sexy, tatted guy I met at a club.

  “And imagine how hard it was for me to track your whereabouts when you were in New York for the past five years, walking everywhere, never using Waze. Thank god I can do it again. You should be grateful,” she says, half teasing, half serious.

  Wait. Make that all serious.

  “I’m twenty-six, Mom.” I pull into the driveway and cut the engine. “You can turn off the propellers.”

  “Ooh,” she says brightly. “I see you officially reached your destination.”

  Are you kidding me? I stab the end drive button on my app, then turn it off. “Mom, that’s me turning off the Waze.”

  “Don’t turn off the sharing,” she chides.

  “Mom,” I warn as I swing open the driver’s side door. In record time, I unbuckle Gigi and grab her from the back seat, focused on getting the key from the lockbox and beelining to the little girls’ room.

  “Enough about me, though,” Mom says as I wrestle with the lockbox where Maddox left the key. “Have you heard the news?”

  That’s not foreboding at all. “What news?”

  “It’s about Fabio’s List.”

  I groan in frustration, forgetting completely about my need to pee.

  As I start this new chapter of my life, the last thing I want is a reminder of all my romantic failures.

  2

  UNSPANKED

  Gabe

  Five minutes, then I’m leaving, even if it is my home.

  With her hands parked on her hips, and her gray eyes shooting death rays of shame, shame, shame at me, my ex’s pissy big sister is building up a new head of steam. “Do you know how distraught my sister was by your freakish suggestion?” Jessica rants, pointing at the box of Brittany’s stuff on the coffee table.

  Of course I know. Everyone in my condo building knows, thanks to Brittany’s ear-splitting outrage at my suggestion. Hell no, I don’t want you to spank me, you freak!

  But I’m not going to engage now because I want my ex’s sister to get the hell out of my pad. At this rip-me-to-shreds rate, I’m going to be late for poker and my buds will bust my balls.

  “Honestly, I expected more of you,” Jessica hisses, spewing more judgment at me. “You’re an adult. You should behave like a gentleman.”

  “And your sister is a grown woman who said no and left here unspanked,” I say calmly, adding with a fake-ass smile, “So feel free to take her box and go.”

  I wanted to say get the fuck out, but I didn’t. See? I am a gentleman.

  Jessica grinds the spikes of her sling-back heels into my hardwood floor and glares at me, waggling a long black nail. “You should be ashamed.”

  “Britt made that quite clear,” I say drily. My phone buzzes on the coffee table. It’s probably Drew, docking points for me being late. I deserve that.

  “You’re thirty-six,” Jessica spews. “Thirty-six-year-old men don’t ask to spank their girlfriends.”

  I could beg to differ. I could also point out all the shitty things Brittany said to me while we were together, but instead, I grab the box and thrust it at her sister, hustling her toward the door. “Thanks for coming by. Here’s the last of Brittany’s things. Her poodle mug, her comfort-food cookbook, and her favorite spatula,” I say.

  “Good. I’m going to cook with her tonight to make her feel better.” She snatches the box. “She’s still devastated by your outrageous request.”

  Jessica takes the box, then gasps, dropping it like it’s on fire. “Ew! So gross.”