Exhale: Just Breathe, #2

By Kendall Grey

"Every part of me was satisfied as I read this story! It has magic, it has love, it has action and suspense … Bring on Just Breathe!" —Consuming Worlds

Gavin Cassidy, rock star by day and Sentinel by night, met his muse in the Dreaming, and now he's found her in real life. But Zoe Morgan is having a hard time believing the gorgeous guy from her dreams is real, let alone that he's attracted to her.

Gavin's not the only one who's interested in Zoe. Her boss wants her too, and he could end her career in marine biology if she refuses his advances. Zoe's struggling to balance her dream man with her dream job, but that's the least of her worries. The whale she's guarding has been marked for death, and Zoe's new enemy Scarlet is eager to deliver the killing blow. To both of them.

Gavin is desperate to keep Zoe safe, but he's got other problems. People are dying in their sleep all across Australia. He and his fellow Sentinels can save them, but only if they find and lock the door to the Dreaming before the Fire Elementals launch an attack. Now Gavin must protect Zoe from Scarlet's vengeful clutches while organizing a Sentinel defense strong enough to prevent a full-blown Elemental war—all with a traitor fighting by his side.

"Intense, exhilarating, shocking, and heart-wrenching, Exhale is truly a worthy sequel to Inhaleand shows that Kendall Grey can push her characters way beyond limits." —Grace, MyBookSnack

Book 2 in Kendall Grey's JUST BREATHE urban fantasy series

• Language: English
• Publisher: Howling Mad Press
• Release date: Dec 27, 2020
• ISBN: 9780984887835

Kendall Grey

A whale warrior, marathoner wannabe, and vodka martini aficionado, Kendall Grey is calm like an F-bomb*. She writes books about fierce women in genres ranging from erotica to urban fantasy comedy. Her aliases include Kendall Day (FALLING FOR MR. SLATER) and Seven Slade (COMING OUT). Kendall lives off a dirt road near Atlanta, Georgia with her dashing geek husband, their two wildly creative transgender sons, a one-eyed Dachshund that thinks she's a cat, and an incorrigible yet adorable mutt whose ice-blue eyes will steal your heart and hold it for ransom. *Detonation manual not included.

Book preview

Chapter One

Hervey Bay, Queensland, Australia—August 2012

---

He’d been stood up.

Gavin Cassidy checked his watch and swiveled on the barstool to face The Whale & Whistle’s door. The woman of his dreams was an hour late.

He shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up. Should have known finding Dr. Zoe Morgan in the waking world of Realis would be much harder than keeping track of her in the Dreaming.

Head sagging and heart aching, Gavin left the pub and shuffled down the sidewalk under the fading purplish wisps of dusk. The smell of the ocean rolling in from the harbor reminded him of her. Goddamn everything did.

He scrubbed his face. What should he do? The Fyre Elementals knew where she lived. If they—Scarlet especially—got to Zoe before he did, she wouldn’t stand a chance against them, here or in the Dreaming.

Fuck. He had to find her.

He paused on the trek to his car and reached into his leather jacket pocket for his cigarettes. Empty. Damn it. He’d picked a great time to quit smoking. Half-heartedly scanning the intersection ahead for signs of Zoe, he continued onward.

It hadn’t been just the protection issue that lured him out of the Dreaming and into Realis to look for her. As that bastard Fyre Elemental, Sinnder, had so kindly pointed out, Gavin was in love with her. Which brought his true motivation for finding her to a totally different level, didn’t it? Upgraded from routine Sentinel responsibility to hardcore, hands-on involvement.

He had to warn her she was in danger. Maybe he should—

His Dreamsense rattled to life at the sound of his muse’s familiar song, broadcast on a dream frequency beyond human hearing. The tune was as haunting as the songs of the whales he knew she loved.

He snapped his head up.

Hey. You forget something? a female voice with an American accent called from behind him.

He turned around.

It was her. His muse. In the flesh.

Familiar blond-streaked hair poured down the sleeves of a tight red button-up shirt. She looked five or six years older than him—maybe thirty—and hotter than sex during a summertime thunderstorm. Worth every bump, bruise, and scrape he’d endured to find her. His heart broke into a balls-out run. Along with the rest of him.

Zoe? He skidded to a halt a few feet in front of her. Tried to catch his breath.

She tilted her head to the right and smiled. Hell, yes. She recognized him.

Zoe tossed him the little wooden falcon he’d left on the bar inside The Whale & Whistle. Too captivated by the blue of her wide eyes to bother glancing away, he caught it without looking. His childhood toy-turned-good-luck-charm vibrated in his palm as if pleased with itself, and he slid it in his jacket pocket.

I waited for you. Obvious, but he was a little tongue-tied. He stretched his grin wider.

I got lost. Her voice had a little rasp to it. She was breathless too, though whether from chasing him down the street or for reasons similar to his own, he had no idea.

God, right here, right now. Zoe Morgan. He stepped closer. Dreamsense checked the area for Fyre Elementals. All clear.

After everything they’d been through together in the Dreaming, meeting her for real wasn’t just a pleasure. It was an honor. She’d sacrificed her Elemental Water and nearly died to defend the Dreaming from the Fyres. She’d saved thousands—maybe even millions—of human dreamers from death. And she’d done it all for him and a whale named Lily.

She was his heroine.

With his tongue, he flicked the silver ring jabbed through his bottom lip. Her eyes narrowed.

Fuck it.

Gavin Cassidy. At your service. He grabbed her by the arms and pulled her close. She gasped but didn’t resist—more fell into him, which was fine. He liked the idea of keeping her steady.

Elemental Water bubbled deep within his chest, proof of the heavy emotions practically denting the inside of his rib cage with their attempts at escape. So, his Water wanted to show its arse now? Fine.

He lowered his head and kissed her.

She stole what little remained of his breath. Thanks to the dreams they’d shared, he knew her lips as well as he knew his own. Could have picked them out blindfolded from a police kissing lineup.

But as his mouth settled into a rhythm and took the lead in their dance, Air energy blew through the empty space between his ears, reminding him he’d only just met Zoe in this world, and kissing her might be a wee bit forward. He drew away. Her cheeks reddened, and she inhaled sharply.

Pleased to meet you. He grinned and held out his right hand.

Lips parted, she took it. The blue in her aura deepened. Zoe Morgan. I’m pleased to meet you too.

Coolness flowed from her trembling palm into his. Their Water merged, ebbing and flowing across the boundaries of flesh. Christ, it felt good. Familiar. Safe. She pumped his hand twice, then her grip slackened.

Though he didn’t want to let go, the break in contact helped him wrangle his scattered wits back into a manageable ball. He and Zoe were in the open, exposed. Gavin swept the street again with his Dreamsense. As far as he could tell, no Fyre Elementals had snuck up while his brain evacuated its cranial real estate in favor of warmer southern climes in Hardwood Heights.

Down, boy, he warned the tent itching for a pitching under his jeans.

Can I buy you a beer? Heart on an adrenaline drip, he gestured to the neon sign displaying the words ‘The Whale & Whistle’ several windows behind her. We have a lot to talk about. He leaned forward, barely able to resist the lure of another go with those pouty pink lips.

Raising an eyebrow, Zoe gave him a quick once-over. Her breasts strained against her shirt. She flipped a length of hair over her shoulder and glanced around the street. Yeah. Okay. One beer.

He walked her back to the pub, held open the door, and followed her inside. A couple of gray-haired blokes looked up from their drinks, probably cursing the younger generation’s invasion into their old folks’ hideaway.

Spine ramrod straight and shoulders squared, Zoe navigated the maze of empty tables toward a deserted corner away from the dozen other patrons in the pub. Gavin took in her backside with lazy appreciation. The subtle curves of her waist, her swaying hips, the contours of her arse through the black pants—even her tanned, sandal-covered feet with their unpainted toenails had him scrambling to adjust the heat dial on his body’s furnace.

His balls tightened at the memory of the sex they’d had in the Dreaming.

Mind on business. The Fyres, he told himself.

Gavin pulled out a chair for Zoe. I’ll grab the beers. Is VB okay?

She nodded.

He strode over to the bloke behind the bar and ordered two schooners. Handing the guy a twenty, he plotted out his next move. Moment of truth here. A do-or-die situation. Zoe’s life was in danger. Gavin had to convince her she needed him. For protection.

He turned sideways and cut his gaze to her. So goddamn beautiful. An ache built in his chest. Fanning herself with a hand, Zoe met his eyes, and then looked out the window to where they’d stood only moments ago.

She’d kissed him back, just like she’d done a dozen times in the Dreaming. Maybe winning her over here in Realis would be easier than he expected. Once they got through the pleasantries here, he’d invite her to his place where they could talk in private. Hell, maybe talking would lead to other things. His gaze drifted from her sultry lips to the hard nipples taunting him through her shirt …

Don’t get your hopes up, mate.

The bartender slid the schooners over, and Gavin nodded his thanks. Drinks in hand, he sauntered to the table, set the glasses down, and took his seat across from her.

Cheers, she said, bringing the beer to her lips. She sucked down a long, blokey draught, and pressed the back of a wrist over her mouth.

That was quite a first impression. Her low, tremulous voice set his ears on fire. Do you always kiss strangers first and ask questions later?

Shaking his head, he unleashed his crooked rock star smile on her—the one that made magazine covers and had landed him countless hard-to-get girls with big bastard boyfriends. So not feeling that confidence at the moment, but he tried to channel it anyway. We’re not exactly strangers. Are we?

Her aura exploded into a flurry of shifting, disjointed colors. With an unsteady hand, she reached into the pocket of her pants, withdrew a piece of paper, and unfolded it. I believe this belongs to you.

The blush in her cheeks deepened as she offered the wrinkled page to him. It was her bio and picture from the Cetacean Research Network’s web site. He’d jotted down a song about her on the back of it while he waited for her earlier. Bartender must have given it to her.

He shook his head. Keep it. I wrote it for you.

Why? You don’t know me, she said softly.

He dropped his voice to a whisper and met her stare. So, the woman I met in your dreams was someone else?

Wiggling in her seat, she rubbed at her palm with a thumb but didn’t look at it. Okay. You kinda caught me off guard. I came here expecting to be interviewed for the newspaper, only to meet a guy I’ve been dreaming about for weeks. What the hell is going on? You remember me from your dreams?

"They were your dreams, actually. And yes. I remember them." Did he ever.

I— She tugged the tail of her shirt down, then smoothed the back of her hair. I’d like to believe you, but I’m a scientist. I deal in facts. As far as I know, there’s no research proving the existence of ‘dream communication’ or whatever you want to call it.

So, you deny that we met in the Dreaming? He settled his elbows on the table. That I rescued you from drowning? That we built a raft and fought Fyre Elementals together? He wasn’t ready to remind her of the other stuff they’d done. Yet.

She looked away.

He wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans under the table. What about Shaggy’s, a week ago? I saw you in the crowd when my band played there. You remember that, don’t you?

Yeah. What about it?

You were staring at me.

Her intoxicating flowery scent filled his nose, and another beautiful pink blush settled into her cheeks. I was enjoying the music.

Uh-huh. The music. So, it had nothing to do with the fact that you recognized me from your dreams? He tried the smile again. Or maybe it was the view?

Her pupils dilated, and a flash of light red emerged from the panicked swirls in her aura. Jealousy? Does your girlfriend know you’re here?

The accusation slapped his reckless ego with a resounding crack. Shit. Zoe had seen Scarlet kiss him after the show that night. I don’t have a girlfriend. He took a quick detour down to the naked ring finger on her left hand. Not yet, anyway.

Could have fooled me. The light red gained traction on the other rapidly shifting colors in her aura—brown, pink, yellow-orange, neon yellow—too many to count.

Great. He stuffed a fist in his pocket, and it collided with the bird. He pulled out the wooden toy and set it on the flaking tabletop. Her gaze darted to it. Cheeks reddening again, she bit her lip.

He glanced at the falcon. What was that about?

Darkness clouded her face, and the air between them cooled. Both arms now resting on the table, she studied him as if he were a frog in a dissection tray. Why’d you arrange this meeting? Tormenting me in my dreams isn’t enough?

I wouldn’t call what we did there ‘torment.’ He sighed. This wasn’t going as he’d planned. Maybe he’d totally misread her in both worlds. Come on, Dr. Morgan, don’t play games with me. You fought the Fyre Elementals in your dreams. You know how powerful they are. They’re after you. Here. He tapped the pockmarked tabletop with his index finger.

Her entire demeanor shifted, fast as a door slamming shut in his face. All traces of curiosity left, and harsh tenseness took its place. Her aura freaked the fuck out in an explosion of reds and browns. Grabbing her keys, she stood. I think I’d better go.

Shit. He snagged the back of her hand and pinned it to the table. Her eyes flashed.

A roar of laughter erupted from a bunch of geezers up front as if mocking him. He threw a scowl at them, and then turned back to Zoe. Wait. Releasing her hand, he checked her face for a crack in the armor. Nope. Solid, two-centimeter-thick stainless steel.

Before good sense had a chance to rein in his mouth, he blurted, I want to go out with you. Okay, not exactly following the script, but he was desperate to keep her here and talking.

Ears bright pink, she stared at him for a good thirty seconds before sitting back down. Don’t you think I’m a little old for you?

He let go of his held breath in a great rush. The two of them had survived a dream attack that had killed over a hundred people. He’d fallen in love with her, for fuck’s sake. What the hell did he care about her being a little older?

No. Gavin searched the bar for a refill on his resolve. Instead, he found two pissed old farts carrying on about football, a drooping plant in dire need of watering, and a meaty police officer eyeballing him.

His stomach dropped with a sudden, horrifying realization that he was way out of his league. He hadn’t expected the intimidation factor to be so high. Certainly hadn’t planned on his traitorous confidence ditching him, switching sides, and running offense for Zoe.

You don’t want to go out with me? The fireworks they’d conjured together in the Dreaming had been beyond explosive. Pretty unlikely she’d forget that.

The color drained from her face. Zoe paused, as if to measure her words before spewing them all over him. Your kind and mine don’t mix. I’m a scientist. You’re a, she waved her hand in a wild, quivering motion, rock star. You and I are oil and water, north and south, milk and pickles. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go. I have to be up early for work. Zoe rose. The legs of her chair sputtered loudly across the scuffed wood floor as she pushed it under the table.

Tossing another glance about, he stood up and stepped around to her side. He slid his palms up the backs of her arms. The warmth from her closeness fucked his concentration to hell. Some people out there want to see you hurt. Or worse. Can we at least exchange numbers in case something happens? He hated the desperation heating his words, but if the Fyres got hold of her … especially Scarlet …

Dewy droplets of perspiration dotted her flushed skin. I’m sorry, Gavin. I—I just can’t.

Shit. What had he done? But—

Thanks for the drink. She downed the rest of it in two hurried gulps and set the empty glass on the table. Halfway to the door, she paused and looked at him over her shoulder, blond locks framing her beautiful face, eyes pleading. Please don’t follow me.

Conversation in The Whale & Whistle ground to a halt as everyone in the place—including the very interested policeman—watched Zoe walk out of Gavin’s life as fast as she’d breezed in.

He dropped his arse into her still-warm chair and rubbed his spiky hair.

Fuck.

Convincing his dream girl that she needed him in reality was going to be a hell of a lot harder than he’d expected.

Chapter Two

Zoe Morgan rushed out of The Whale & Whistle, terror threatening to clamp her throat shut. Her unexpected meeting with Gavin Cassidy had been a shocking, but welcome surprise until her wacked-out brain started processing everything: the bird showing up after all these years … him remembering her from the dreams … the song he’d written … When he got to the part about Fyre Elementals out to get her, the tenuous grip on her control snapped and flung her straight into the waiting jaws of the panic attack that had been lurking under the surface of her consciousness.

A fresh wave of nausea rippled through her stomach, sweat flooded her pores, and oxygen eluded her.

Calm down. Just get to the car, and you’ll be okay. Come on, Zoe. Breathe.

When her lungs finally registered the fresh air outside the pub and sputtered back to life, she scanned the dusk-drenched street and hurried toward the SUV parked a couple of blocks over.

Holy shit. She still couldn’t believe it.

Gavin Cassidy. Mr. Perfect from her dreams not only had a grown-up name and a smoking hot body, but if the kiss was any indication, he also had an apparent interest in her. Here. Outside the confines of her head. In the Land of Wakey-Wakey.

What the hell was wrong with him? Surely a gorgeous, twenty-something rock star like him had better romantic prospects than a neurotic, thirty-two-year-old cetacean biologist who talked to whales. And those problems barely scratched the surface of the cluster fuck her DNA had cursed her with.

Soft footsteps interrupted her flocking thoughts. She picked up the pace, worried her hot dream man might be following, despite her warning not to.

Or maybe it was a Fyre Elemental.

Oh, God. The Fyre Elementals were real too.

Nope. Don’t even think about it. You’re gonna lose your shit in front of God and everybody.

She fanned her face with a sweaty hand as her rubbery legs double-timed it to the parking lot. Distraction. She needed a distraction.

How about that kiss?

Jesus.

Her guts fluttered again, and she touched her lips. Gavin had a mouth that could work miracles on her. Already had in the Dreaming. Countless times. The tall, gorgeous-enough-to-eat hottie covered in tattoos and piercings with an inexplicable hankering for her had the ability to make her orgasm in her dreams as hard and fast as a horny teenager. Why’d he have to show up now and kiss her like that?

When she reached the Land Rover, she glanced around but didn’t see anyone. Whoever she heard before must have found their car or gone into one of the nearby buildings. She planted hands on her knees, bent over, and devoured great gulps of oxygen to the point of near-hyperventilation. She was burning up.

Damn you, Gavin Cassidy.

Tremors quaked through her anew as she brushed the paper peeking out of her pocket. Dear God, he’d written a song for her.

You can’t trust him, you know, a female voice with an Aussie accent purred, jolting Zoe out of her estrogen-induced daze.

The gorgeous redhead who’d kissed Gavin at Shaggy’s Pub after the Just Breathe gig stood two cars away. She hadn’t been there a few seconds ago. With one long, creamy leg propped against the grill of a blood red Porsche, she puffed on a cigarette through an elegant black holder. Wearing five-inch stilettos, a barely legal black mini skirt, and a matching bustier encrusted with ruby-like gemstones, the woman—and her car—looked like an ad straight out of a high fashion magazine.

Just great.

Scrambling to pull herself together as dread regained its momentum, Zoe bit her lip until it hurt. Damn Triple X Syndrome and its associated inconveniences always exerted their dominance at the most inopportune moments. She hated this weakness, the loss of control over her body and mind, but she and her panic attacks had become pretty intimate over the years. At least she knew what to expect.

Another rush of heat swept through her.

He’s only out for one thing, Red continued, releasing the cigarette and pitching it on the ground. She didn’t bother to put it out. Himself. She slunk around the hood of the car parked between them and sashayed straight into Zoe’s personal space. The heady aroma of cinnamon wafted toward Zoe, engulfing her like a fly in amber. The panic eased and transformed into something … hotter.

Dark cherry curls bounced with a life of their own around Red’s face. And her eyes … they were the most beautiful shade of brown, sprinkled with glittery crimson flecks.

Red smiled with a mouthful of sharp, white teeth, then sized her up by … God, was Gavin’s girlfriend … smelling her? Zoe’s hot skin tightened, and her internal organs faltered under the intensity of the woman’s disturbing beauty. More spicy cinnamon teased the air between them. Trapped in this black widow’s web, she could almost see why Gavin had kissed her. Zoe was straight, but Red’s closeness got the lust meter running, despite the fact that the woman scared the hell out of her.

Wait, what happened to the panic attack? And why was she getting so worked up over a woman she didn’t even know? The sounds of fingernails screeching down a chalkboard filled Zoe’s head.

She swallowed hard. Something wasn’t right about this woman. She had experienced this same weird heat the night Gavin’s band played at Shaggy’s—the first time she’d first seen Red and her handsome leather-clad friend, whom Zoe had almost gone home with.

Breaking out of the trance, Zoe searched for courage but fell short. Don’t worry. He’s all yours, she mumbled, fidgeting with her keys. I have much more important things to do with my time.

Of course you do. Red’s eyes flickered, and a zap of heat lightning sliced open the sky behind her. Stay away from him. The warning layered deep within her voice flared loud and clear.

She pictured Red and Gavin together, entangled in the throes of passion, his hands all over her as raspy laughter filled the air. Zoe shivered.

Fingers shaking, she unlocked the car with a quick beep-beep from her key fob. Done deal.

Refusing to meet the woman’s hypnotic eyes again for fear she wouldn’t be able to look away, she slid into the driver’s seat, slammed the door shut, and switched on the ignition. She threw the gearshift in reverse and peeled out of the parking lot like she’d stolen the damn car. Though Red disappeared in the rearview, her condescending grin somehow lingered like a Cheshire Cat’s.

Zoe’s hands trembled as she gripped the steering wheel. The beer had done nothing to settle her nerves. Her heart thumped a wild, out of control rhythm, like a thrashing caged animal trapped in her chest.

She had no business dabbling in these dangerous, jealousy-tinged waters. Red seemed like a short-fused stick of dynamite, and Gavin was a heartbreak waiting to happen. Zoe had enough drama in her life without them.

Buildings breezed by her peripheral vision, but she saw none of them. She punched the air conditioning button to take the edge off the heat prickling her skin.

Darkness had descended on the tourist trap of Hervey Bay, Queensland, the self-professed ‘Whale Watching Capital of the World.’ As she drove past quiet neighborhoods, Zoe slowed her breath. Once she regained the control she’d lost, she allowed herself to replay the most astonishing part of the evening’s events.

It was shocking enough that Mr. Perfect was real and somehow managed to find her, but the fact that he had her bird crapped the logic circuits right out.

While on holiday in Sydney with her mother two decades ago, Zoe had met an old Aboriginal Australian named Yileen, whom she’d recently become reacquainted with in both her dreams and in real life. Yileen had given her a wooden bird exactly like the one Gavin left at the bar. He’d said it chose her, and she should be careful to obey its wishes. Mother had groaned at what she’d thought was a hawker and offered a few dollars to get him off their backs, but the man had refused the money.

‘No, this a gift. The bird go where it like, and it like her,’ he’d said, pointing at Zoe.

A few hours later, she gave the bird to a crying kid in a restaurant because she felt sorry for the little guy. When he took it, his tears dried up. She ruffled his black hair and willed him to keep her bird safe. His smiling blue eyes told her he would.

Could it really have been him?

She covered her mouth with trembling fingers. Shit.

Zoe turned onto Esplanade, the fluorescent streetlights illuminating the last stretch of her trek home. She didn’t believe in coincidences. There was a logical explanation for everything that happened tonight. She just had to find it.

When she got back to the research house, it was dark. Reeling again from the events at The Whale & Whistle, Zoe remained in the car for a few minutes and forced herself to chill. She couldn’t go inside flustered. With Randy all over her lately, trying to weasel back into her bed, he would pick up on her stress in a heartbeat.

She shut the Gavin channel in her brain off and went into the house. On top of the bizarre developments in her personal life, she was struggling to manage the humpback whale digital tag project that had gone astray. If she blew it, there was no chance for promotion. Yeah, she had plenty of other worries to keep her neuroses intact without the romantic drama.

Randy and a man she’d never seen before sat at the dining room table. The whale fluke identification notebook lay open between them. Randy’s shaggy gray hair swung as he turned to her.

How’d the interview go? His skin looked pale in the low light.

She waved her hand. He was a no-show. I was running late, so I must have missed him. Sat down and had a beer with a guy. It wasn’t a complete lie.

Randy’s eyes narrowed, then he gestured to the man. I want you to meet Iri Rangi. He’s from the Cetacean Research Network’s New Zealand office. Iri, this is the amazing and talented Dr. Zoe Morgan.

Iri was Māori, probably late twenties, but his eyes were older than the hills. Taken aback by the crystalline yellow-brown quality of them, Zoe tilted her head. She couldn’t stop staring.

He stood and offered his right hand. She accepted. His skin was cool and dry, his grip powerful. Deep, ancient words whispered inside her mind as he gazed at her, but she didn’t understand them. What the hell?

As if waking from a trance, Zoe shook her head, tacked a false smile to her lips with emotion-free superglue, and said, Pleasure to meet you, Iri.

He nodded and held on longer than was customary for a handshake, drawing her hand to his face. For a moment, she thought he might kiss the backs of her fingers. Okay, this guy was creepy. She wriggled out of his gentle but firm grasp. A horde of heebie-jeebies swarmed up the inside of her arm. Despite the rude message it sent, she shook her hand out. Couldn’t help it.

Iri’s going to be your back-up driver, Randy said, apparently oblivious to the entire exchange.

Her smile fell off and crashed to the floor, scattering shards of confidence to the four winds. She turned to Randy. I thought we agreed I could handle this.

"You can handle this. I’m just making it easier for you. Iri and I are switching places for the duration of the project."

Iri’s gaze hadn’t left hers, and she felt very uncomfortable talking about him while he was standing right there. You mind if we step outside for a minute? She nodded toward the living room.

Be right back. Randy frowned, got up, and walked glassy-eyed to the door.

Had Iri even spoken? Zoe didn’t think he had. She followed Randy out to the driveway, regaining the wits she’d lost somewhere between being kissed by her hot rock star dream lover and being told she had a weird new crewmember she didn’t want. God, what was happening to her life?

The tall palms in the front yard cast dubious shadows, their fronds waggling like hairy spider legs in the sudden wind. Zoe’s skin prickled. First the heat, now this creepy breeze. She rubbed her arms and stamped her feet.

What the hell, Randy? I don’t need that guy, she jabbed her thumb in the direction of the house, "or you to help me. Adriene’s okay to drive the boat now."

Doctor said she needs to stay off the broken leg as much as possible. Randy shoved his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, raised his chin, and fixed his gaze on her. She hated when he did that. Like he was trying to exert his dominance or something.

"Okay, then as I told you before, I’ll drive. Dani’s got the tagging down, and Elizabeth is freaking Annie Lebowitz with the camera. We can manage just fine without Iri. Besides, he’s a little strange." Very unprofessional. She shouldn’t have said that. She’d just met the man. Still …

Iri is more than qualified. With him on the boat, you’ll be able to take some time off. You don’t need to work every single day.

"I like working every day."

I know you’re trying to impress me for this job thing, Zoe, but there’s no need. Randy stepped closer and skimmed a

Reviews for Exhale

[asgwilli · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Another well written addition to the Just Breathe series. While this book was as hot as Inhale, Exhale fell slightly shorter than it's predecessor for me. I love the blooming relationship between Dr. Morgan and Gavin in the Realis. And GRRR, why can't they just kill that Fyre Bi#@! and have a moment of together time lol. I think that I'd have given this book a 5 star if there were more resolution to the story. I hate waiting to read books in a series, but leaving on a cliffhanger.. UGH! *Taps finger* impatiently waiting..

[ce_kilgore · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This book is an emotional roller coaster on high speed after eating way to many funnel cakes and corndogs, or as the character Adriene so eloquently put it "Christ in a crack house." (yeah, I laughed at that one for a while). Zoe and Gavin were both excellent in this follow up, but my favorite character in this is actually Siinder and his developing character, including the mystery surrounding his backstory. I have some definite hunches on him and will see what happens in book 3.

*Exhales* The ending... It tore so hard at my heartstrings. I knew it was coming. I wagered that Grey would go there, and she did. Did she ever. Not the "safe" route most authors would have taken, Let's face it, most authors would have just had Gavin "kill" Zoe instead of actually going through the the sex scene involving Scarlet wearing Zoe's appearance. Poor Gavin. Poor, poor Gavin. Talk about completely brutalizing the heart and soul of a guy? Most authors would have avoided this because they would have been afraid at alienating some of the readers who would have serious issues with it. I have serious issues with it,The romantic in me died a little and then became seriously pissed off at Grey when that special gift that was to be between Gavin and Zoe (condom-free) was stolen from them. and it bugs me more and more as I think about it, but man, I applaud Grey for doing it. I am so curious to see how it plays out in book 3. I mean, what would I do? How would I feel? Would I be able to get over it? No, probably not. But, I'm pulling for Gavin.