Longing for Her: A Steamy Second Chance Romance: Risso Family Contemporary Romance Series, #2

By Lynn Burke

A Steamy Second Chance Contemporary Romance Novella

 

Straight-laced Cole Risso has longed for his sister's bohemian best friend Gwen since he first laid eyes on her as a kid. Now, as future patriarch of the Risso Family, he's expected to marry well. A free spirit and unconventional daughter of a pot-toking hippie hardly qualifies.

When one night of giving into temptation ruins them both for any other, Cole and Gwen are faced with a decision - love the other enough to let them go, or defy family expectations and fight for their hearts' desires. No matter the decision, their choices have the power to destroy all they hold dear.

 

Risso Family Contemporary Romance Series:

Susceptible to Him

Longing for Her

Complete with Her

Tempered by Her

Chasing after Him

No One until Her

 

If you're a fan of TL Swan, Alexis Winter, Adriana Lock, Abby Brooks, Claire Kingsley, Lainey Davis, & Sav R. Miller, you're going to love the Risso Family series!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lynn Burke
• Release date: May 13, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393269700

Lynn Burke

USA Today Bestselling author Lynn Burke is a CrossFit and coffee addict. Her three spawn dictate how often she can be found hunched over her Mac, typing as fast as her fickle muse cooks up hot stories.

Book preview

Cole

M r. Risso? Raquel’s voice came through the intercom on my office desk.

Glancing up from my cell, I pressed the button to reply. It’s Cole, Raquel.

Yes, sir.

I grinned. One for proper etiquette, my new secretary refused to call me by my preferred name. What is it?

I have the reports, sir, so whenever you’re ready.

Ready…shit.

I’d forgotten about the meeting. Raquel might have printed out the information I needed to share with Papa and the rest of the board members, but I hadn’t done shit to prepare for the presentation.

Another glance at the phone in my hand, and a groan rose. Spiked black tresses and hazel-green eyes stole my breath every time I tortured myself by pulling up the texted pic from three years earlier.

Gwen Larkin, my baby sister’s best friend and soon-to-be maid of honor. Borderline gothic clothing painted her as a free spirit, the type of girl who refused to conform herself to what others expected. One who knew her mind and didn’t hesitate in speaking it.

The only girl I’d ever wanted.

Ten years older than her twenty-five, I knew she’d crushed on me as a kid. She’d sleep over at the house and prance around in a long t-shirt, her budding body and shapely legs tempting the hell out of me. All through her high school and college years, she’d tossed smirks over her shoulder, her eyes begging me to respond, to take what she would gladly lay at my feet if only I’d make a move.

I’d waited, hoping she’d tame down a bit, become a young woman Papa would approve of.

It never happened, and when she and my sister Lia graduated from college, I couldn’t help myself—I gave in to temptation. Rather, I didn’t say no when she reached across my car’s console, put her hand on my dick, and ordered me to pull over.

I ceased to exist to her afterward.

She never came to my parents for dinner. My phone calls never got returned. Countless texts went unanswered.

She and Lia rented their own place in Boston’s North End, and the months passed without my seeing her.

Three long-ass years dragged by, and not once did I lose myself in another woman. Gwen haunted me worse than the Lonestar song that’d been crooning from my car’s speakers when she’d climbed on top of me. The satiny feel of her skin under my hands. Her strawberry scent, the sweet taste of her mouth.

In that moment, she’d blown my mind, and I knew she was it for me—forever and ever, just like Richie McDonald had sung.

Damn it.

I swiped the picture off my screen and tossed my phone on the desk.

Raquel? I said into the intercom while smoothing down my tie.

Yes, Mr. Risso?

I’m going to need a quick look at those files.

For the first time since I officially accepted a position in the family business, I showed up late to a meeting. I pulled open the door and gestured Raquel in ahead of me. As always, the board members hovered around a platter of donuts while waiting for Papa to call them to order.

Bigger than your typical Italian, he frowned at me from above most of their heads, his dark eyes full of displeasure. Toe to toe, I stood two inches taller, but Papa still intimidated the shit out of me.

Rarely did he cast his scowl my way. I was the good son. The one who bowed down without question, the one who always considered what Papa would think before taking any actions.

Not that I had a choice. I was next in line for the Risso patriarchic throne.

I slid onto a chair beside the only other seated person—my brother Zane, who didn’t understand what being on time meant.

Raquel made her way around the oblong table, placing the reports she’d printed before each empty chair.

Zane’s gaze glued to her ass, and a low whistle sounded. Who the fuck is that? he whispered, leaning my way.

My new secretary. I leafed through my file one last time, cramming like a college kid with a hangover. And I’d appreciate it if you kept your hands to yourself for a change.

"But goddamn…she’s hot." He groaned the word while adjusting himself in my periphery.

She’s efficient and hardworking, I told him tightly. The last thing I need is your dick screwing her up.

Let’s get started. Papa’s gruff voice quieted the room, and the twelve advisors took their seats. Sebastiano can’t be with us today, so Ercole is going to update us on the progress with the chain store in West Virginia. Son?

I cleared my throat while standing, wishing like hell that for once—just once—Papa would call me Cole like everyone else. A quick glance at the papers spread on the table before me, and I started sharing my youngest brother’s accomplishments in the town he’d chosen. Statistics. Accounting records.

Boring shit I dealt with on a daily basis.

As a kid, I’d dreamed of being a history teacher even though I knew Papa had long since planned my path through college and beyond as a CEO of Risso’s Supermarkets. I wanted to impart knowledge, not discuss price differentials and marketing ploys to gain new customers.

Count your blessings, Mom always said. Rarely did an immigrant become successful in the way Papa had done. We had a lot to be thankful for.

While I appreciated Papa’s hard work and the easier life his accomplishments had afforded our family, I wished for the freedom to map out my own life. Unlike with Zane, though, my parents’ teachings to respect and obey embedded in my heart and mind as a kid. I just wished my compliance had brought personal happiness along the way.

Zane downed a shot of whiskey. I’m going to ask her out.

I swallowed my mouthful of beer and thunked the empty bottle down, peering at Zane in the bar’s dim pendant lighting. The hell you are.

He raised his hand to get the bartender’s attention. She’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. God, that ass. Those tits.

She’s my secretary. I stabbed my fork into a steak tip. Papa will can your ass for sure if you start sleeping with our employees.

His chuckle was nearly lost in the laughter and live music blaring in the background. Remember that blonde chick who ran the mail last summer?

Are you shittin’ me? I angled on my stool to face him. God damn it, Zane. Don’t you have any sense of decorum?

He shot me a grin, blue-gray eyes like my own lit with amusement. "Not