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From New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Nicole Blanchard comes a forced proximity military romantic suspense.

There’s only one man who can help me…and he’s a stubborn jerk.

Dean Tyler. Former U.S. Marine Aviator who gave up his career to live in self-imposed exile in the mountains. He’s broody, ruggedly handsome, and pulls a gun on me the second I darken his doorstep. But I stand my ground. Because I need his help to find my sister—and I’m willing to do whatever it takes.

When our engine fails and we’re stranded in the wilderness, I can’t help but wonder if we’ll make it out alive or if this man will be the death of me.

I’m not her hero…

…but Kenna Lynch looks at me like I could be. And—damn her—the longer we’re stuck together the more I want to be.

As we uncover a web of lies, deceit, and betrayal, it doesn’t take long for me to realize the biggest danger we face isn’t the mountain or the elements, but someone who is willing to kill to keep their secrets.

I’ll have to do whatever it takes to keep Kenna safe, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll be her hero after all.

Aviator takes place in the First to Fight series, but may be read as a standalone.

“Scoot over,” I tell him as I stumble to the cot. It’s barely big enough to fit him, let alone the two of us, but there’s no way in hell I’m sleeping on the floor. I’m also not going to make him do that either.

Ah, the age-old, one-bed dilemma. If I weren’t so damn tired, I’d find it humorous. And maybe in another lifetime, I would have been giddy at the thought of sharing a bed with Dean. Hell, I’m only human and he’s the definition of a tall drink of water. But right now, all I want is to sleep. . . and maybe to steal a little bit of warmth from his big, powerful frame.

He raises his eyebrows at me, and for the first time, I think he’s stunned. Or confused. I can’t quite tell in my weariness. Seriously, I’m about to collapse and I won’t care where.

“Don’t argue,” I say, gesturing for him to lie down. He must be shocked or tired like me because he doesn’t protest. He stretches out over the cot, and I climb over him to wedge myself between his body and the wall, careful to not bump any of his injuries. The feeling of being held, even if only superficially, is a comfort, and my eyelids grow steadily heavier without any prompting.

Another time, maybe, I’d be intimately aware of every inch of my body that comes in contact with his. Another time, I’d analyze how his hands find their way around my waist. How his nose turns toward my hair. How tense he is at first with me beside him, until he finally relaxes a little at a time, until he’s relaxed against me.

“Does this hurt you? Let me know if I need to move.” My jaw cracks with the force of a yawn that seems to come from my bones.

It’s a long time before he answers. So long that I almost slip into unconsciousness. “I’m fine. Get some sleep, princess.”

“Don’t call me princess,” I mumble and fall into a deep, dreamless sleep, his deep, rumbling voice in my ear.

Alpha Hero, Forced Proximity, Grumpy / Sunshine, Military, Opposites Attract, Protector Hero, Romantic Suspense, Small Town

Graphic Sex / Violence, Shitty Family, Loss of a Loved One


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