Anyone But Him: A Spicy Enemies-to-Lovers Collection

By Elouise Tynan, Stephanie Hazeltine, Alison Middleton and Emma Mugglestone

Anyone But Him: A Spicy Enemies-to-Lovers Collection

 

Four unlikely couples.

All enemies-to-lovers.

A spicy story collection you need to read.

 

Love Me Like You Mean It

 

It's easy to hate your brother's best friend when he's been c***blocking you since college. But when Reed and Jordie discover a scandalous secret about her brother's girlfriend, they're forced to put their snarky sniping aside to protect him from heartbreak. And learn just how thin the line is between enemies and lovers…

 

Fight or Flight

 

Last time high school enemies Blair and Levi saw each other was in a wedding party that ended in sabotage and pure humiliation. So what happens when they're forced back together for another wedding three years later?

 

The Law of Attraction

 

Being a kick-ass lawyer is tough enough. But what's a woman to do when you have to work with the sexy college nemesis who broke your heart–and he's handling your divorce from another man?

 

Finding Home

 

Andi Bishop didn't come to Wyoming to save a horse and ride a cowboy. Which is handy considering prickly ranch foreman Jack Woodruff is determined to scare away the pretty New York waitress who threatens his future at Jawson Ranch. As the fight for ranch ownership heats up and so does their attraction, will they lose more than they bargained for?

 

Approximately 250 pages.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stephanie Hazeltine
• Release date: Oct 10, 2022
• ISBN: 9780645575606

Book preview

ANYONE BUT HIM

ELOUISE TYNAN

STEPHANIE HAZELTINE

ALISON MIDDLETON

EMMA MUGGLESTONE

All stories in this publication are works of fiction. All characters, organizations and events portrayed are either productions of the authors’ imaginations or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. 

Copyright © 2022 by Elouise Tynan, Stephanie Hazeltine, Alison Middleton and Emma Mugglestone.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the authors, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Edited: Amy Maranville at Kraken Communications

Cover design: Sarah Paige at Opium House Creatives

Cover illustrations: Ivanna Nashkolna

Ebook: 978-0-6455756-0-6

Paperback: 978-0-6455756-1-3

For all the readers who like a side

of enemies with their lovers

CONTENTS

Love Me Like You Mean It

Elouise Tynan

Fight or Flight

Stephanie Hazeltine

The Law of Attraction

Alison Middleton

Finding Home

Emma Mugglestone

Acknowledgments

LOVE ME LIKE YOU MEAN IT

ELOUISE TYNAN

1

JORDANA

Do you come here often?

Okay…

Not the most original opening line, but the flawless good looks of the guy propped against the bar in front of me more than made up for it. With his sharp cheekbones, dark blue eyes and incredible jawline with that perfect dusting of stubble, he could ask me to lick stamps with him and I’d say yes. 

So long as we were naked.

I leaned closer, brushing a hand along his forearm. Only when I know there are going to be super-hot men here.

I tried to wrap my tongue around my straw in a way I hoped looked come-and-get-it sexy, only I couldn’t quite catch it and ended up chasing the straw around my glass like a struggling seal caught in a swimming pool.

He smiled down at me, then blinked as realization dawned. Oh, you mean me!

Okay...

So, he’s not the brightest crayon in the box either. Maybe I wouldn’t marry this one. 

That didn’t mean I couldn’t have a passion-fuelled night of sweaty, unbridled stranger sex while riding what had to be a mouth-wateringly hot body underneath his grey cashmere sweater. The way that soft material hugged his toned arms in all the right places... I’d never wanted to be a piece of luxury haberdashery so badly.

So, what do you like to do for fun?

I gulped my drink, trying not to grimace at what was fast becoming the world’s driest flirtation in the history of drunken bar hopping.

Oh, you know... I love to be super active. I’m at the gym so often I practically live there, I lied through my teeth.

The last time I was at the gym was when my best friend, Jess, had dragged me there after I’d complained of having the muscle tone of an eighty-six-year-old Scrabble player. Only the moment Jess had busied herself on one of the machines, I’d parked my ass on a stool at the smoothie bar, getting into a deep discussion with the wannabe wellness influencer behind the counter about the merits of vaginal cleansing and collagen shots for shinier hair.

But tall-blond-and-gorgeous in front of me was eating up the Fitness Barbie story, and who was I to deprive him of his dream girl?

I love to get up early on the weekends and hit all the toughest hiking trails. And rock climbing is my absolute favorite.

I tried to hold in a snort at my own ridiculousness. The only rocks I was interested in were the ones the bartender poured vodka over on a Friday night after a long week of work.

The perfect male specimen shifted closer, clearly liking what he was hearing, when a voice to my right brought our moment crashing down.

Don’t listen to her, man. This one’s a professional couch potato whose idea of fitness is walking to the fridge for more cheese.

My head snapped to the right, my jaw instantly clenching at the sight of my brother’s best friend, Reed, shaking his head at me.

Don’t you have better things to do than cockblock me in bars? I snapped, before remembering I was supposed to be the airy and affable dream girl that Prince Charming wanted to take home to bed tonight. 

I smiled coquettishly at him, as Reed squeezed between us to get to the bar.

Don’t you have anything better to do than entrap men? Whenever you’re not exfoliating with the crumbs from the last bag of chips you polished off on yet another one of your Saturday nights in. He turned to Mr Right Now. Cheddar and sour cream Lays are her favorite.

I scowled, shoving him in the shoulder. He glanced down at my hand, barely moving an inch.

Reed had been my older brother Dylan’s best friend since they were in college. Dylan brought Reed home for Thanksgiving their sophomore year and the leech never left. Now he turned up for every holiday, every birthday, any family event of any kind.

And he just loved to torment me whenever he was there.

His favorite pastime was asking about my love life over dinner. My mother’s keen ears would latch on to any morsel she could get her hands on, and every family meal resulted in her annoying me about giving her grandchildren.

My brother was three years older than me and unmarried, but she didn’t give him constant grief about popping out crotch fruit.

Reed loved watching me squirm over it though.

The worst had been when I’d brought home my brand-new boyfriend Cameron for Thanksgiving two years ago. We’d only been dating for a few months, but Reed took it upon himself to grill him about everything. His childhood, his intentions with me, his choice of car (a Honda) and what it said about him… and why he’d chosen to become a career nanny when it was a predominantly female profession. The poor guy had been so emasculated he’d skipped out before dessert, and I’d had to sit across from Reed for the rest of the night while he wore a smug, self-satisfied smile on his stupid face. 

I’d liked Cameron’s nurturing side. So what if he’d sometimes used his baby talk voice while going down on me, asking my cooch if she’d been a nice or a naughty girl that day? Maybe some women were into that.

Or in hindsight… maybe Reed had done me a favor. 

It was hard to say.

I don’t need to entrap men, I said now, through gritted teeth. They come willingly once they get a taste of my dazzling wit.

Reed snorted into his beer, his amused gaze dropping down my body for the briefest of seconds and making my cheeks heat.

Why was he even at the bar when he still had a half-full drink?

He turned to the Adonis, who was watching us with a look that could only be described as dim-witted confusion.

Steer clear of this one, dude. She’s got a box like a Venus fly trap. It’ll snap your dick right off.

Embarrassment flooded me, but before I could deny Reed’s put-down, my beautiful-yet-oh-so-stupid Prince Charming swiped his drink from the bar.

You know, I should find my friends...

I gave him what I hoped was a flirty smile in an attempt to reel him back in with my feminine wiles, but he turned away, slipping through the packed bar.

Good idea, champ. Reed raised his glass at his retreating back, then turned to me, his brow pinching. Why is your face like that? Do you need medical attention?

My expression instantly faltered.

Screw you, Reed. I could have been having some of the hottest sex of my life twenty minutes from now, and you blew it for me.

Reed threw his head back and laughed, the strong column of his throat on full display.

I swallowed. Since when were throats attractive?

And gross, it was Reed. I’d rather be fisted with barbed wire than ever admit to anything remotely favorable about this asshat.

Get over yourself. That guy was a three-pump wonder at best. I saved you the trouble of having to fake it for a whole forty seconds.

Just like every girl you’ve ever been with? I asked sweetly.

He chuckled, draining his drink and flagging down the bartender.

Two Buds on tap. He motioned to me. And a Long Island iced tea for Satan’s mistress.

2

REED

Jordie and I crashed through the door of my apartment, our limbs tangling and we almost hit the floor. I managed to plant my feet and stop us, as she clung to my shoulders, letting out a drunken laugh.

Oh my God, it’s been so long since I’ve been to your apartment. She twisted in my arms. You still have all your boring sports paraphernalia all over the walls. Being a super fan of sweaty men in tight pants isn’t a personality trait, you know.

Ignoring her, I righted us, putting her back on her feet and gripping her arms to steady her.

She was more drunk than I’d ever seen her after trying to keep up with us at the bar.

But I hadn’t asked her to join me and my friend, Sully. It had been her choice to hang around like a stage-five clinger I couldn’t shake. And the way Sully’s eyes had lit up when she’d followed me back to the table, I knew I had to keep an eye on them. Sully was the ultimate man whore. But babysitting a drunk Jordie really hadn’t been high on my priority list tonight and I was resenting every second since I’d decided to help her stumble back to my place to sleep it off.

Towing her to the couch, I dropped my arm from her waist and gave her a shove. She hit the cushions with about as much grace as a farm hog rolling in a mud pit, legs splayed wide.

What am I doing here? she asked, eyeing me like I was something gross she’d stepped in.

Sleeping off your sloppy drinking habits.

I grabbed her ankle and yanked off one heeled boot, tossing it to the hardwood floor, before doing the same with the other. You haven’t learned how to hold your liquor at all since that Christmas your freshman year of college when you mainlined whiskey like it was water.

She snorted a laugh. A classic Christmas tale.

Yeah, vomiting behind the tree then slipping in it is the perfect mix of festive and fun.

She closed her eyes, snuggling into the sofa. It’s not my fault you’re a grinch who doesn’t know how to have a good time. She cracked one eye. You should really work on that.

I pulled the blanket from the arm of the couch and tossed it at her, hitting her square in the face and ensuring she got a mouthful of wool fuzz. Noted.

She spluttered, struggling to pull the blanket from her head. 

When I went to move away, her fingers closed around my wrist in a vice grip.

Jesus, ease up, Rocky.

She pouted. You can’t leave me here without water. I might die of dehydration.

I’d never be that lucky.

She scowled and I rolled my eyes. 

Could you be any more high-maintenance right now?

She levelled me with a look. I think we both know the answer to that.

Rubbing my hand over my face to stem my annoyance, I headed for the kitchen. I returned a minute later with a glass of water, leaving it on the coffee table beside her.

She smiled in satisfaction at making me her bitch boy.

I’m going to bed. If you’re going to spew your guts up, do you think you can manage to make it to the bathroom instead of doing it behind the TV?

I can’t make any promises, no.

She was a monumental brat most of the time and I was still mentally kicking myself for bringing her here instead of shoving her ass in a cab and sending her home. But she was my best friend’s little sister. Dylan would murder me and make it hurt if he’d found out I’d left her on the streets of Chicago when she’d had about six too many drinks. Even if she was harder to squash than a cockroach. 

Whatever Jordie did, she always seemed to come out on top.

She cracked an eye open, pinning me with it. Stop staring, creep. I’m not going to sleep with you.

I snorted a laugh. There’s not enough liquor in the world.

Only the thought had crossed my mind once or twice since college. Jordie was hot and I was a dude with eyes, a pulse, and a working dick. But she was a massive pain in my ass and more drama than a season of the OG Gossip Girl re-runs she loved watching. The whole thing would be more trouble than a quick fumbling between the sheets was worth.

Reed? came a voice from the hallway, Maggie appearing in a silk tank top and matching shorts.

Jordie bolted upright, her surprised gaze landing on the woman standing in my hall.

Everything okay? Maggie asked, frowning in surprise at Jordie’s presence.

Who are you? Jordie blurted a little too loud.

This is my girlfriend, Maggie. Maggie, this is Jordie, Dylan’s little sister.

Jordie’s wide-eyed gaze swung to me. You have a girlfriend?

Yes.

You mean you actually found someone willing to put up with you for more than a week?

I clenched my jaw. Also, yes.

Jordie pulled a face. Well, fuck me with a feather.

Hard pass on that terrible offer. Maggie and I are going to bed. Try not to trash my apartment overnight like the stray puppy you are.

I crossed the room, taking Maggie’s hand and leading her to the bedroom, leaving the pain in my ass sitting on my sofa without a second thought.

3

JORDANA

I woke to the realization that the pounding in the room wasn’t just in my head, but coming from the front door.

Struggling to get upright, I missed the blanket twisted around my legs and instead of gracefully alighting from the couch like a delicate ballerina, I hit the deck hard, landing face first on the hardwood floor.

Come on, I moaned at the universe, disentangling myself as the pounding sounded again. 

Where the hell is Reed? This is his damn apartment.

I made it across the room and hauled the door open, letting out a disgusted noise that I’d risked life and limb only to find it was my brother standing on the other side.

Jordie? 

Dylan stepped inside, shutting the door behind him, while I shuffled back to the couch and flopped down on it. 

Why the hell are you answering Reed’s door half-dressed on a Saturday morning? And what the hell were you doing in here? It sounded like an elephant fell on its ass.

A girl couldn’t hear that enough.

I glanced down at my clothes. I was still wearing my black tank top from last night but I must have shucked off my jeans at some point because they were in a heap on Reed’s living room floor. Which meant I’d unwittingly answered the door to my brother in nothing but my boy shorts and tank. 

Not my finest moment.

Did you sleep with Reed? Dylan hissed. Jesus Jordie, he has a girlfriend.

She wasn’t that lucky, bro, came a voice from the hallway and Reed appeared in nothing but a pair of tight black boxers. 

I had to avert my eyes, given the flush that crept up my neck. Did a guy who was such an annoying, self-assured jerk have to look that good semi-naked? The universe sure was a wily bitch sometimes.

Jordie was in no state to be showing anyone a good time last night. He glanced my way, a smug smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. I had to practically carry her here so she could sleep it off.

Thank fuck it was you and not some random bar creep. Dylan shot me a look that I think was meant to be disapproving, but didn’t quite measure up. 

My brother liked to pretend everything I