The Spark Between Us, an all-new roommates to lovers, opposites attract standalone romance from author Stacy Travis is available now!
When I move to small town Carolwood, I don't expect to run into a hot-as-sin firefighter with smoldering gray eyes and eight-pack abs. Literally. With my car. Doesn't help matters that Braden Michaels is my brother's best friend. And my new roommate.
He’s too busy putting out blazes and igniting them in the hearts of women to pay much attention to me. I’m just here for work—six months of nerding out at a world-renowned science lab, then going home to a nice promotion and the boring men in my comfort zone.
I’m not here for a rescue fantasy, a fire station pole dance, or a romantic walk in a vineyard. I’m certainly not here to fall in love.
Until one earth-shattering night when we collide in a ball of white-hot sparks, and everything changes. We’re no longer just roommates. I don’t know what we are. But edging open Braden’s complicated heart knocks something loose in mine. All my plans and scientific facts start to pale in comparison with feelings I can’t control.
My time here has an expiration date and neither one of us wants to get hurt. Rushing into a burning building seems less risky than chasing the spark between us. Maybe it’s smarter to walk away. Or maybe I've found the one reason to stay.
We'll either fall in love or we'll go down in flames.
The Spark Between Us is Sarah and Braden's story in the Berkeley Hills series and is an opposites attract STANDALONE novel.
Add the Spark Between Us to Goodreads: https://bit.ly/3jr2Wpw
“Is there something you want if I decide your brownies do live up to the hype?” He winked. The damn fireman was flirting.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “What’s your game, mister? You’re the one who’s in charge here. You get to lay down a verdict once you taste these things,” I said, pointing to the squares in front of us. “You want me to wager something, just so you can find a tiny bit of fault with my recipe and assure I don’t get it?”
He took a step closer to me, and I could feel the heat radiating from his large, muscular body. Maybe that was his intention, to throw me off. It was working. My heart started beating so fast I could feel it in my throat.
Two could play at that game. I took a step closer to him so we were almost touching. I had to tilt my head back to look him in the eye, which emphasized how tall he was, easily over six feet.
“I’d never do something so underhanded.” His eyes met mine and moved briefly to my lips before returning to stare me down. His closeness made my body ache with desire, a warm flush spreading under his gaze.
Maybe that’s why I blurted out the first thing that came into my head. “Fine. If the brownies are as good as I say, you have to kiss me.”
I saw the surprise register in his eyes for a split second before he recovered. His shock was nothing compared to my own.
Where the hell had that come from? I swallowed hard and steadied my gaze at him, unwilling to back down.
His smirk returned, and he nodded at me, taking one step back.
“Fine. Deal.”
We shook on it.
“Actually . . .” I started to backpedal, but Braden held up a hand. He picked up the paper towels with the brownies and handed one to me. He even went so far as to clink brownies in a chocolate toast.
“Best of luck to you.” He paused to take a whiff of the brownie, blinking hard. Then he took a generous bite. I was so fixated on watching his straight teeth bite through the chocolate and his lips wrap around the bite he’d just taken that I forgot I held one of my favorite desserts in my hand.
The planet may have stopped spinning in real time and begun moving in slow motion, just so I could see the muscle in Braden’s jaw pop as he chewed the bite, and his stormy gray eyes fix on mine until he finally closed them.
When he swallowed and licked his bottom lip, it was almost like he’d licked me. I went limp. “Oh my God,” he moaned, eyes rolling back.
I barely heard his words amid the whole-body orgasm I was having. But something about the heated look gave me told me I’d succeeded in wooing his tastebuds. “Verdict?”
He took another bite and threw up his hands. “I concede,” he said around a mouthful of brownie. “You win. These are amazing.”
That thought made me happy because I felt pretty stolid in my brownie-making skills, and I liked the affirmation. But then . . . oh shit. I didn’t want him to feel obligated to kiss me. It was like something out of a high-school spin the bottle party. I felt ridiculous.
I started waving my hands. “But forget about the whole wager thing. That was just a joke. You don’t have to—”
“Yes, I do.” His eyes clouded with heat, the barest smile on his lips replaced with serious intention. “A bet’s a bet.”
His hands cupped my face as he leaned in closer, and I felt the air leave my lungs in a whoosh. I inhaled roughly, taking in the scent of woodsy aftershave and fresh soap, watching the fire in his eyes until they blurred in my vision.
The heat from his hands and the way he brushed the pad of his thumb over my cheek caused my eyes to drift closed. His lips brushed softly against mine, like a whisper. My breath hitched, his fingertips licking my skin like flames from a torch.
It’s a rough world out there, and we all sometimes need a good, romantic beach read, even if we can’t make it to the beach. I’ve spent many lazy days walking the streets of Paris and other gorgeous European cities, and if I’m doing it right, I’m bringing you a dash of romance and a vacay fantasy.
I can’t sit still, so when I’m not hiking, biking or running, I’m playing a very average game of tennis. Background music for writing undoubtedly features some U2, Lizzo, Billy Joel, Pink, Taylor Swift, and Led Zeppelin. Not necessarily in that order. And if I could only eat one food group, it would be cheese. Or wine. Or bread. Are those food groups? Whatever.
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