She's the One: COunting on Love, Book 1

Dedication

To Lindsey, who uses words like
delightful
and
charming
and
refreshing
when she talks to me and who says things like, “Let’s make this even more amazing”…and then does. Thank you for everything.

Chapter One

Babysitting had gotten a hell of a lot harder since she was sixteen, Amanda Dixon thought. For one thing, her charges were a lot older—never mind old enough to know better—and she sure wasn’t making five dollars an hour at this gig.

Of course, she couldn’t drink mojitos at any of her teenage babysitting jobs. So there was that.

Watching her younger sister, Emma, pass out congratulations—or so she called the kisses she was laying on each guy—to the members of the Omaha Hawks football team, Amanda chugged the last of her drink and signaled the waitress for another.

The team and their fans were celebrating the big win at Trudy’s bar.

Of course, they also came to Trudy’s after a loss. And after practice. And every Thursday.

Screw being the designated driver—she’d pay for a cab. Because she could not handle tonight’s party without some more lime juice and rum.

“Wilson, you big stud!” Emma called to a man across the bar. “Come give me a hug.”

The three-hundred-pound man who played center for the Hawks whirled at the sound of her voice and quickly strode to where she stood and caught her up against his broad chest. She gave him a big, smacking kiss on the lips.

“This is why I play ball, girl,” he told her when he set her down again. “All the sugar I get.”

“That’s why we show up,” Emma told him with a laugh. “The Dixon girls have a lot of sugar to give.”

I love my sister. I love my sister. I’m proud of her. She’s beautiful, smart and confident. And I love her.
Amanda took a long, steadying breath, like Emma had taught her in yoga class. Then she repeated her mantra.
I love her. She’s a grown woman, capable of making her own decisions. I love her and I’m proud of her. Even when she’s acting like a hooker on the docks after the ships just came in.

The Hawks had won a big game that afternoon. Amanda got that. Everyone was excited. Everyone was in a celebratory mood. Inhibitions lowered as blood-alcohol levels climbed. And this was definitely not Amanda’s first time at Trudy’s bar with this crowd.

But everyone was extra exuberant tonight as the Hawks were moving on to the playoffs to defend their championship title for the third year in a row. And extra exuberant around here was…something. Like headache inducing.

Amanda watched Emma get dipped back by another of the Hawks before he laid a kiss on her.

As she tipped her newly refilled mojito back for a healthy swig, Amanda could admit that her irritation with her sister was pretty much pure jealousy. She’d like to be Emma for one night. Or even fifteen minutes. Emma was well known as the fun Dixon sister. Everyone liked Emma.

Amanda glanced around the bar. Okay, all the
guys
liked Emma. Most of the women felt a lot like Amanda did—like they hated Emma at the same time they wished they could
be
Emma.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the man of the hour, our fearless leader, the man who made it all happen…Conner Dixon!” someone called out in an announcer’s voice. A loud cheer went up as the quarterback for the Hawks entered the bar.

Amanda sighed. They all knew him as the man of the hour. She thought of him as the only reason she was really here.

Her brother had played spectacularly today. He deserved his moment in the spotlight without worrying about getting his toes stomped on by their younger sister. Emma loved to be the center of attention. Keeping her from embarrassing Conner—or herself—was almost a full-time job for Amanda.

She slid out of the booth, intent on grabbing Emma’s arm and making her sit down and leave the guys alone for a while. But
her
toes almost got stomped on by Ryan Kaye, the Hawks’ star running back.

“What’s a guy gotta do to get one of those?” he asked Emma as she was set back on her feet by the one of the benchwarmers. “I made the spectacular winning catch.”

“You sure did.” Emma gave Ryan a huge smile, then launched herself at him. He caught her against his chest and she wrapped her legs around his waist—a sure sign her brother was watching—and kissed him. And kissed him.

As Emma finally lifted her head from the hot French kiss, Amanda heard her whisper, “I think there’s smoke coming from his ears.”

“Good.” Ryan squeezed her ass, then set her back on her feet.

Amanda rubbed a hand against her forehead. Emma and Ryan
loved
riling Conner up.

“Seriously?” Conner demanded behind her. “
Seriously
?”

And it was really easy to do. Dammit.

Ryan turned, dragging his thumb over his bottom lip. “What? I don’t deserve some sugar after that catch?”

“For God’s sake,” Conner muttered. He grabbed Emma around the waist with one arm and hauled her up against his side, turned, and deposited her out of Ryan’s reach.

“I thought I explained this to you,” Conner said. He pointed at Ryan. “No dating my sisters.” Then he pointed at Emma. “No dating my friends.”

Emma sighed. “We were
kissing
, not dating.”

“Kissing leads to dating,” Conner said.

Emma giggled as Ryan gave her a wink. “Not always.”

“Emma,” Conner growled in warning.

“Well, it’s your fault,” Emma told her brother, crossing her arms. “You have so many friends, there’s hardly any guys left in Omaha to date.”

Conner rolled his eyes and Ryan laughed out loud. Emma had no trouble finding guys to take her out in spite of Conner’s alleged likeability.

“I don’t know every guy in Omaha, Em. Don’t be dramatic.”

Of course, telling Emma to not be dramatic was like telling the sun not to shine.

“You don’t know any boring, ugly guys,” she conceded. “But you know the hottest, nicest ones. And those are the ones I want to date.”

“Too bad. I do
not
need to think about the guys on my team being hot. And they definitely aren’t always nice. You’ve never seen them break up a bar fight or deal with a guy who put his girlfriend in the hospital.”

Emma sighed and batted her eyelashes at Ryan. “Hot and heroic. You’re not helping me here, Conner.”

“A chastity belt might help,” Conner muttered.

Amanda’s thoughts exactly. She reached for Emma. “You’re in a time-out.”

“Whew,” Emma exclaimed as she slid into the booth across from Amanda and reached to gather her long blond hair on top of her head with both hands. “I swear that man could ruin me for all other men.”

Amanda frowned at her sister from across the table. “You only kissed Ryan because Conner was watching.” If it had just been to congratulate Ryan on the catch, she would have given him a simple kiss like she had the rest of the team. But because her big brother was watching, Emma had kissed him like he was returning from the war. “That’s hardly enough to ruin you.”

Now, the one-night stand Emma had with Ryan last year was probably another story.

Emma reached for Amanda’s mojito and took a drink. “Have you ever kissed Ryan Kaye? I’m telling you, the guy sets the bar high for all the other guys.”

Amanda shifted on her seat. No, she’d never kissed Ryan Kaye. Not in person anyway.

In her dirty dreams, however—oh, yeah. And yes, he was the best she’d ever had.

“That hasn’t stopped you from kissing lots of other guys,” Amanda said, knowing she sounded bitchy. Emma had a way of bringing that out in her.

“Well, Ryan and I aren’t going to end up together so I have to keep looking. But Ryan did me a favor—the guy who can outdo him is the guy for me,” Emma said nonchalantly.

“You know it makes Conner nuts when you flirt with his friends,” Amanda said. Of course Emma knew that. It was why she did it.

Emma grinned “It’s like playing a video game,” she said. “If I do something that makes the
tips
of Conner’s ears red, I’m not going far enough. If his whole neck gets red, I’ve gone too far. It’s fun.”

And that was why Amanda was at Trudy’s with the postgame football crowd when she really should be home going over her students’ midterm reports. Sure, Conner could look out for Emma and their other two sisters, Isabelle and Olivia, but he shouldn’t have to.

Keeping his blood pressure down was Amanda’s self-appointed mission in life. This quite simply meant keeping track of their three younger sisters so he didn’t have to. Which wasn’t simple at all.

“And
this
is why Mom said no margaritas on Olivia’s birthday.”

Emma frowned. “What do you mean, ‘no margaritas’?”

Amanda shook her head. “Mom wants to do a spa day instead.”

“But margaritas are tradition,” Emma protested. “What happened?”

“You happened,” Amanda said. “You and Isabelle.”

It was always Emma and their sister Isabelle who were making a spectacle, drawing attention and driving people crazy.

“What do you mean, ‘I happened’?” Emma straightened in her seat. “What did I do?”

“Well, gee, let me think,” Amanda said. It had been Emma’s birthday, and as the birthday girl she’d felt that anything went. Of course, Emma often thought anything went. “Maybe it was the tequila shots at the bar with the cowboys, or the dirty dancing in the center of the dance floor, or the impromptu kissing booth they set up when they found out it was your birthday.”

“We were having fun,” Emma said, sitting back in the booth and crossing her arms. “Nobody got hurt.”

“Mom was embarrassed,” Amanda said. “So she wants no margaritas and no guys for Liv’s birthday.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Olivia’s not exactly the type to do body shots and make out on the pool table.”

“But
you
are,” Amanda said, her blood pressure rising. “Just because it’s Olivia’s birthday is no guarantee that
you
won’t be the center of attention again.”

“You think I’m going to get plastered and have sex on the pool table at Olivia’s party?”

“I think you’ll do whatever strikes you as a good time at the moment,” Amanda said. “As always.”

“No one’s stopping you from chugging some schnapps and getting up on that table yourself,” Emma said.

Amanda was the one stopping herself. She couldn’t do it. If she gave in to those temptations, she’d be Emma times ten.

“In fact, we all know you want to,” Emma said.

Yep, they knew that. They were her sisters. They all knew one another inside and out, for better or worse. They also knew she’d never do it.

“In fact, I wish you would,” Emma went on. “I know the idea freaks you out, but I swear, it would be good for you. It would be good for
me
.”

“And it’s all about you,” Amanda said.

“If you let go a little and pulled that stick out of your butt, maybe you’d get off of
my
butt.”

Olivia, their youngest sister, chose that moment to slip into the booth. “Sorry I’m late.” She looked from one sister to the other. The tension was palpable. “Oh boy, what did I miss?”

“Nothing much,” Emma answered, leaning her forearms against the table. “Amanda’s informing me that I’m the biggest slut she knows and that I can’t be trusted out in public with our mother anymore.”

Olivia looked at Amanda. “I’m sure that was word for word.”

“No. But ‘pull that stick out of your butt’ is a direct quote,” Amanda told her.

Emma sighed heavily. “You’re pissed because I know how to have a good time.”

“That’s not why I’m pissed,” Amanda said. “And you know it.”

“Okay, how about we take it down a notch?” Olivia said. “Before somebody says something she doesn’t mean.”

“No,” Emma said, “I’d love to hear what Amanda has to say here. What would you do, big sis, if you let yourself do whatever you wanted? I’d
love
to know. Spike your hot chocolate? Maybe wear three-inch heels instead of flats? Oh, I know, you’ll get a Brazilian instead of a regular bikini wax?”

Amanda felt her cheeks heat, and it wasn’t with embarrassment. She had three younger sisters. Three. Isabelle was almost as daring and sassy as Emma was. Almost. But no one—
no one
—could make her as crazy as quickly as Emma did.