Synithia Williams - Overtime For Love

Desire is a game without rules

Optimistic and hardworking, Angela Bouler prides herself on getting through life without asking for an assist. School, two jobs, caring for her nephew, Cory—she’s keeping it all together...then Isaiah Reynolds bounces into her life. The Jacksonville Gators’ star forward is coaching at Cory’s summer camp, but guardians and mentors aren’t supposed to mix—and certainly not surrender to red-hot kisses...

Isaiah has an image of the perfect partner in his head, and it doesn’t quite mesh with Angela’s hectic life. Or her evening job serving drinks at a gentlemen’s club. But deep down, she’s the only woman who sparks a true connection. He’s expected to keep his image spotless, but instead he’s risking everything on a strong, sexy, complicated woman. Winning her heart won’t be easy, but it’s becoming the only play that really matters...

A large hand wrapped around her wrist and prevented her from impersonating a flipped pancake.

Awareness prickled up her arm from the strong hand around her wrist. Her gaze lifted all the way up to a pair of dark sexy eyes. Her heart stumbled worse than her feet and air sprinted from her lungs like a that of a runner’s. Isaiah Reynolds.

The lean muscles of his arms were bared by a sleeveless red athletic shirt. Basketball shorts partially covered sculpted legs long enough to make a redwood jealous. If a tree could get jealous. The spice of sweat and his own masculine scent swirled through her senses and made her knees wobbly. Recognition brightened his warm brown eyes. For a split second he seemed happy and surprised right before his brows furled. His lips, the lower one fuller and so damn kissable, twisted into a frown.

“Angel?” he said in a tenor tone that was as smooth as silk and ran over her just as seductively.

Dear Reader,

Thank you for spending your time with my characters today. When I first introduced Isaiah in Full Court Seduction, I knew I had to write a story for him. The so-called “good guy” of the team needed a woman to make him put all his rules aside in the name of love. Angela “Angel” did exactly that. She’s not what he planned for, nor did he expect their first introduction to cause so much change in his life. Angela has been hit with some hard blows, but she remains upbeat and optimistic. Her refusal to let circumstances beat her down is one of the reasons Isaiah can’t help but fall for her.

I hope you enjoy their road to happily-ever-after. Please be sure to leave a review or drop me an email at synithia@synithiawilliams.com and let me know what you think.

Happy reading!

Synithia W.

Overtime for Love

Synithia Williams

www.millsandboon.co.uk

SYNITHIA WILLIAMS has been an avid romance-novel lover since picking up her first at the age of thirteen. It was only natural that she would begin penning her own romances soon after—much to the chagrin of her high school math teachers. She’s a native of South Carolina and now writes romances as hot as their southern settings. Outside of writing, she works on water quality and sustainability issues for local government. She’s married to her own personal hero, and they have two sons who’ve convinced her that professional wrestling and superheroes are supreme entertainment. When she isn’t working, writing, or being a wife and mother, she’s usually bingeing on TV series, playing around on social media or planning her next girls’ night out with friends. You can learn more about Synithia by visiting her website, www.synithiawilliams.com, where she blogs about writing, life and relationships.

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Acknowledgments

Thank you to the great team at Harlequin Kimani: Shannon Criss and Keyla Hernandez. You two helped tighten my stories, always answered my questions and were super helpful during my time with Kimani. I wish you much success in your future endeavors.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Acknowledgments

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter 1

Bless the soul of the person who invented air-conditioning.

Angela Bouler sighed in ecstasy when she opened the door to the North Region Activity Center and cool air kissed her skin. Heat and humidity had combined to make summer in Jacksonville, Florida, beat Hell on the hot and uncomfortable scale. She leaned back against the open door and turned to her only nephew, who was coming up behind her. Oblivious to the heat, and enthralled by his cell phone, Cory walked slower than a two-legged tortoise.

“Come on, Cory. Whatever is on that thing will still be there once we’re inside the air-conditioned building.” Her attempt at an upbeat tone wilted.

After scrambling to get off work early so she could pick up Cory from her neighbor and get him to the activity center in time to sign up for a month-long basketball camp, in the middle of a heat wave straight from the pits of Hell, she didn’t feel too bad about not being perky. She’d left the blazer she’d worn to her day job as a court-appointed advocate for foster children in the car, but even without the extra layer, her blouse stuck to her back and tendrils of hair escaped the ponytail she’d swept her thick shoulder-length hair into and clung to her neck.

Cory slipped his phone into the pocket of his basketball shorts and picked up his speed to match that of a three-legged tortoise. “I’m hungry,” he grumbled.

“You’re always hungry.”

“I’m growing. I’m almost a man now,” he said with a cocky, know-it-all smile perfected by teenagers everywhere.

Angela rolled her eyes but didn’t suppress her grin. “Whatever, man. Pay me back for the box of Hot Pockets you ate in one day.”

“I said almost a man. I’m broke.” Cory grinned and looked so much like her brother Angela’s heart hurt. He was as tall as she was, but would probably grow several more inches. Despite his slow pace, his skin, the color of dark honey, held a red flush from the heat.

Angela ruffled his purposefully messy high-top fade, then gently pushed him farther into the cool building. Cory tried not to laugh and brushed her hand away. Ever since her brother’s girlfriend, Heather, had dropped off Cory at Angela’s door a month ago, saying nothing more than “I can’t take him to New York—he’ll ruin my chance at a stage career,” Cory had done nothing but eat, eat and then eat more, all while growing half an inch every fifteen minutes. Her fifteen-hundred-square-foot apartment felt like five hundred and if she didn’t hide her good ice cream in an old bag of frozen peas she’d have nothing to eat. Though she suspected Cory’s never-ending appetite would eventually lead him to explore the frozen veggies and discover her hiding place.