From #1 New York Times bestselling author Lauren Blakely, comes the first standalone hockey romance in her brand new Hockey Ever After series, JUST BREAKING THE RULES! This sexy, single dad, opposites attract hockey workplace romance answers the burning question -- what happens when you open a small town bakery with your brother's hockey star best friend? This romance about the one that got away is filled with steamy moments, love letters, and all the heart, heat, and humor you’ve come to love from Lauren’s sports romances! Releasing January 21st in all formats, and free to read in Kindle Unlimited, check out the excerpt below and pre-order your copy today!
✦ Amazon ➜ https://blkly.pub/JustBreakingAMZ
✦ Audible ➜ https://blkly.pub/JustBreakingAUD
Samantha Brentmoor & Teddy Hamilton narrate in Duet!
✦ Special Edition Paperback ➜ https://novelgrounds.com/products/pre-order-just-breaking-the-rules-hockey-ever-after
About JUST BREAKING THE RULES (Coming 1/21/2026):
Everyone knows the golden rule of business—don’t bang your business partner.
Especially if he’s your brother’s hot-as-sin, hockey-star best friend.
But when the sexy single dad athlete saves me from a cake contest catastrophe—and shows me how good he is with his hands—I blurt out the world’s worst business pitch: Want to invest in my bakery?
With no loan or backup plan, this is my last shot at proving I’m more than my past mistakes, and shockingly, he says yes.
We set one rule: don’t mix business with pleasure.
Except Corbin Knight’s impossible to resist.
When he’s not scoring goals, he’s staying up late with me to test tempting recipes.
Braiding my hair before we bake like it’s foreplay.
Giving me his jersey to wear to games.
I try to keep a professional distance from the bossy, possessive and dangerously flirty hockey player, but soon we’re testing the limits of the kitchen counter.
This bakery is my chance to finally get my life right, so I fight the messy feelings.
Until one night, he shows up after closing and admits he can’t stop thinking about me.
Suddenly I’m ready to break every rule—no matter the cost to our dreams.
And breaking the rules has never tasted so good.
PRE-ORDER YOUR COPY TODAY!
✦ Amazon ➜ https://blkly.pub/JustBreakingAMZ
✦ Audible ➜ https://blkly.pub/JustBreakingAUD
Samantha Brentmoor & Teddy Hamilton narrate in Duet!
✦ Special Edition Paperback ➜ https://novelgrounds.com/products/pre-order-just-breaking-the-rules-hockey-ever-after
Read the Excerpt:
In a flash, he dips his brush into the red paint, then darts out a strong arm, wraps it around my waist, and grips me in place. He lifts the brush and brandishes it.
Inches from my face.
My breath catches.
Everything goes silent between us. The Frank Ocean tune finishes. The air crackles. He’s holding me and staring at me, all while threatening me with red paint in a way I want to be threatened, judging from the heat climbing up my legs.
“I have no choice,” he murmurs at last, then he drags the brush along the hollow of my throat.
It’s cool and soft, the paintbrush slick and surprisingly sensuous as he runs it slowly down to my chest, bristles turning a swath of my pale skin red. He stops at the neckline of my shirt.
All thought flees my head. I’m nothing but atoms and vibrating molecules. I can’t even speak. I’m just breathing—and breathing him in.
The scent of paint, delightfully non-toxic, mixes with his aftershave. Or maybe it’s bodywash. I don’t know, but that campfire-by-the-lake scent is not only going to my head, it’s going to my thighs. I squeeze them together, lick my lips, and try to find a word, a phrase—something to tease him with.
But when his brow furrows again, like he’s at war with himself, I stay quiet. His silent debate stretches a few seconds, then he gives in with a raspy, “You have red paint on your chest.”
“Like a candy apple,” I say.
His gaze strays to the canvas of me, his eyes turning darker, glimmering like emeralds. When he raises his face, he drops the brush to the floor. It clatters against the drop cloth, a spray of red splattering on the ground. But I don’t care where, since the sound of the brush falling feels like a before and after. Mine falls from my hand and splatters too.
Slowly, teasingly, Corbin runs his calloused finger across the paint on my body. I pant ludicrously loud. It feels too good.
“Good enough to bite,” he muses as he traces a circle near my breastbone.
“I don’t think the paint would taste good,” I say.
“Probably not, but this would.”
His lips come crashing down on mine, and I grab him, my fingers roping through his messy hair, tugging him close. He kisses me hard, a little ruthlessly, all teeth and heat and need.
My brain is buzzing, my body humming, but somewhere in the back of my mind, I’m keenly aware there’s a pretty mural inches from us, and I just don’t want to mess it up.
“The mural,” I whisper with concern.
He backs up, away from our work, scanning it to make sure we didn’t smear it. It’s safe. He spins me around and pushes me against the brass pole.
Is that a sign? “Do you want me to strip?” I ask in between hot, wet, deep kisses.
“Don’t tempt me.”
