Opposites Ignite
Bangers Tavern Romance 2
Sadira Stone
www.sadirastone.com
Opposites Ignite
A mismatch sparks the hottest flames.
Blue-haired, buxom, and bodacious, server Rosie needs her job at Bangers Tavern, where her work family adores her weirdness and supports her hunt for a tattoo apprenticeship. When too much New Year’s bubbly tumbles her into a sweet, shy coworker’s bed, she craves more. But guys like Eddie never stick with girls like her.
Strait-laced, soft-spoken, and skinny, barback Eddie has a huge crush on his curvy, tattooed coworker. Their New Year’s surprise is a dream come true—until grandma walks in on them. Eddie begs Rosie to fake-date him to appease his old-fashioned family. He’s already keeping secrets, so what’s the harm in one more? But the longer he pretends with Rosie, the deeper he falls.
Their boss lays down the law: No relationship drama at work, or you’re fired. Rosie’s everything Eddie ever wanted—but to keep her, he’ll have to drop a terrifying truth bomb on his loving but stifling family. And Rosie must trust her bruised heart with the guy who nearly crushed it.
Come back to Bangers Tavern for a steamy, laugh-out-loud, opposites-attract romance that ignites in all the worst ways—and the best!
Table of Contents
Title Page
Opposites Ignite
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Epilogue
Valentine’s Day Cocktails from Bangers Tavern
Author’s Note and Acknowledgments
Books by Sadira Stone
About the Author
Copyright
Opposites Ignite, Copyright © 2021 Sadira Stone
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-7357856-2-2
Cover design by Wicked Smart Designs
Editing by Music City Freelance Editor
Learn more about Sadira Stone and her books at www.sadirastone.com. For up-to-date information about releases, giveaways, and more, please sign up for Sadira’s mailing list.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental, with the following exceptions:
Thanks to King’s Books and Doyle’s Public House for allowing me to mention them by name in this novel. If you find yourself in Tacoma, be sure to visit T-Town’s best bookshop and Irish Pub!
All rights reserved. No part of this text may be reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the author. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author and not encouraging piracy of copyrighted materials. For permission to use portions of this text, other than for review purposes, please contact Sadira at sadirastoneauthor@gmail.com.
QUALITY CONTROL: I strive to produce error-free books, but even with all the critique partners, beta readers, and editors, sometimes an error slips through. Pretty please, if you find a typo or formatting issue, let me know at sadirastoneauthor@gmail.com so I may correct it. Thank you!
Dedication
To Duncan, my HEA
Dear Reader: I began writing this series before the Pandemic of 2020 hit. After much careful thought, I decided not to include references to Covid-19 and our current political turmoil. My purpose in writing this series is to provide myself and my readers an escape from harsh reality, so I’ve set the Bangers Tavern series in a pandemic-free, alternate contemporary time. My best wishes for the health of my readers as we adapt to our new normal and strive for a more just society.
Chapter
One
“Ow ow ow, Turn off the damn light.” Eddie Volkov groaned and threw an arm over his eyes to block the blazing sunshine streaming through the skylight above his bed. December mornings should be mercifully dim and gray, not sharp enough to stab his bleary eyeballs.
The hangover kettledrums in his skull pounded him fully awake. Not December. January first.
He held his breath and turned his head. Beside him, soft curves undulated beneath the quilt. A blaze of electric blue hair fanned over his spare pillow. As he wound a curl around his trembling finger, images solidified—hot breath, scorching kisses, moans and pleas and silky tattooed skin. Cloud-soft breasts filling his hands, cushy thighs gripping his hips, pulling him closer, tighter. Bright, dark eyes that saw past his awkwardness and right into his defenseless soul. Those same eyes squinched tight as her sweet, fiery pussy clenched around his cock again and again, his name tumbling from her lips.
Rosie. Here. In my bed. After a year of silent pining, his wish had been granted.
He hadn’t dared hope she meant anything by it when she kissed him beneath the mistletoe at work. After all, she flirted with all her customers at Bangers Tavern. But more mistletoe kisses followed in the weeks leading up to Christmas, just quick smooches as if she were sampling him, deciding if he was worth a tumble. He put everything he had into those kisses—not too handsy, not too wet, carefully angling his hips away to hide his insistent erection. Each time, she broke away with an enigmatic smile. Never asked for more, never lingered to chat after work.
Yesterday he arrived at Bangers to find the Christmas decorations replaced by New Year’s streamers and balloons. No more mistletoe. And that, he figured, that was that. Time to surrender his stupid hopes and get on with his life.
But after closing time, the whole Bangers crew stayed to toast the new year. River, their head bartender, poured a round of champagne sparklers, and then another. Maybe two more. Who knows? Kiara cranked up the music, and they all danced in a giddy, exhausted scrum, kicking up streamers and half-deflated balloons. One by one, his work family took their leave until only he and Rosie remained, swaying and laughing under the spinning disco ball. With his arms around her lush curves, Eddie forgot his awkwardness and asked for one more kiss. Nothing would come of it, right?
Never in his twenty-eight years was he happier to be wrong.
And here she lay, sleeping peacefully beside him, every glorious, tattooed inch of her heating his bed and sparking new hope. She spent the night. That means she
