Show Down Read online

  About Show Down

  A Juniper Ridge romantic comedy

  They called me America’s smartest entrepreneur. So how was I dumb enough to let my dream girl get away?

  Blame ego, blame my need to prove I could build a business all on my own. Hell, blame my parents—God love ‘em—for thinking I’d have problems prospering with a hammer instead of a law degree.

  Turns out I’m doing just fine with a chain of luxury resorts bearing my name, but it’s a cold comfort when the woman I love hates my guts. Can’t say she’s wrong, considering how things ended.

  I set out to win Lauren back, scoring a spot on her family’s reality show social experiment, or whatever it’s called when someone buys an old cult compound to build a tiny town. Works for me, since I’m a builder who loves a challenge.

  But getting Lauren to forgive me proves way more than challenging. Between a botched baking class, sexy bumper car battles, and a bizarrely hostile fish, it’s clear Lo’s in no hurry to pick up where we left off.

  Good thing I’m no quitter, especially when it comes to her.

  Show Down

  Tawna Fenske

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Text copyright © 2021 Tawna Fenske

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the author.

  www.tawnafenske.com

  Cover design by Craig Zagurski

  Created with Vellum

  Also in the Juniper Ridge romantic comedy series

  Show Time (Dean & Vanessa)

  Let It Show (Mari & Griffin)

  Show Down (Lauren & Nick)

  Show of Honor (Jessie & Joe coming soon!)

  Just for Show (Cooper & Amy coming soon!)

  Show and Tell (Lana & Dal coming soon!)

  Show of Hands (Tia & Vonn coming soon!)

  You might also dig my Ponderosa Resort rom-com series. That’s where you’ll get your first glimpse of characters from Juniper Ridge, including Val and Vanessa in Mancandy Crush and Dean and Gabe in Snowbound Squeeze. Check them out here:

  Studmuffin Santa

  Chef Sugarlips

  Sergeant Sexypants

  Hottie Lumberjack

  Stiff Suit

  Mancandy Crush (novella)

  Captain Dreamboat

  Snowbound Squeeze (novella)

  Dr. Hot Stuff

  Contents

  A note to my awesome readers

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Epilogue

  17. Your exclusive peek at Show of Honor

  Don’t Miss Out!

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Tawna Fenske

  For Meah. Thanks for being my friend, pet nanny, personal assistant, tarot card wonder, cheerleader, sounding board, and an all-around awesome human. I’m damn glad to know you.

  A note to my awesome readers

  Hello, lovely reader!

  When I first dreamed up the Juniper Ridge world, I got giddy about writing a tiny town that’s a quirky little microcosm of American life. Characters bloomed in my brain in all shapes, sizes, colors, and backgrounds.

  Naturally, this meant writing outside my own lived experience. While Nick Armbrust—the smart, take-charge hero of this story—is a strong and sexy Black man, I’m not. I’m also not one of the talented #ownvoices authors writing from that perspective. I’m just a white chick from Oregon who loves the idea of an inclusive, colorful, caring, and diverse world.

  There are so many amazing Black and indigenous authors writing romance from an #ownvoices perspective, and I could fill 2,497 books with my recommendations. Some of my personal favorites include Farrah Rochon, Naima Simone, Beverly Jenkins, Talia Hibbert, Kennedy Ryan, LaQuette, Nana Malone, M. Malone, Nina Crespo, Robin Covington, Jamie Wesley, and Savannah J. Frierson (who also served as a sensitivity reader for this book). Go snap up their books and read along with Lauren and Alexis as they swap clandestine romance reads in Show Down.

  Thank you so much for reading, and for joining me in our latest journey to Juniper Ridge!

  Love, Tawna

  Prologue

  Two Years Ago

  CONFESSIONAL 753

  Judson, Lauren (Producer: Juniper Ridge)

  You want me to share one of my worst memories? Nice, Gabe. How about you punch me in the tits while you’re at it? Oh, stop looking like that. I’m a woman. I have tits, okay? Being your sister doesn’t negate that biological fact. If you want to get technical, you’ve got three sisters who all happen to have—

  Stalling?

  I don’t know what you mean.

  * * *

  I sip from a flute of Veuve Clicquot, careful not to smudge my lipstick. It’s Friday night at Evolution, the most exclusive club in West Hollywood, and we’ve got a VIP suite.

  “Hey, gorgeous.”

  My hot-as-hell boyfriend nuzzles the words against my neck. I lean into his heat a moment before drawing back to watch his fiery gold-brown eyes skim my body. They linger in the space where my pushup bra performs miracles with my pale and paltry cleavage, so I draw my shoulders back to make the most of it. I bought this strapless Oscar de la Renta in lush velvet knowing he’d love it. The heat in his gaze tells me I wasn’t wrong.

  I seldom am. If tonight goes how I’m thinking, Nick’s about to swap the boyfriend title for fiancé.

  “Hey, stranger.” God, he looks good. I skim my fingertips over the warm brown line of his chiseled jaw. “Having fun?”

  “Oh, yeah.” He dips a palm into the curve of my waist, and I fight the urge to drag him into the nearest coat closet. “I love you in red,” he murmurs.

  “Is that so?” I know this, of course. I know most things about Nick, since tonight marks one year since our first date. “Glad you like it.”

  “Mmm.” He kisses my neck again, and I let my palms take a lovely trip from his shoulders to his forearms, tracing muscles built by years of slinging tools on job sites. These days, he spends more time bossing other people with tools, but the fact remains—Nick Armbrust knows his way around a tool chest.

  And my chest, but I’m getting distracted.

  “Alexis is looking for you,” he says, and it takes me a sec to go from fuck-me-against-the-wall, to let’s-talk-about-your-sister.

  “She caught me in the ladies’ room a minute ago.” I love Nick’s sister, so shifting gears is easy. “She looks amazing.”

  Nick grins. “Mama’s pestered her for years to leave her hair natural. She wasn’t so sure about going full afro.”

  “It looks great.”

  “She said she had something for you?”

  “Mmm-hmm.” I don’t tell him that something was a pair of Farrah Rochon paperbacks. Alexis and I agree it’s best to let her brother think we’ve spent the past year swapping stock tips or shoes instead of romance novels. “Is she pregnant again?”

  “What?” Nick squints at the corner table where Alexis is feeding a bite of crostini to her hottie husband. “Why would you think that?”

  “Watch.” On cue, Abe touches his wife’s be
lly beneath the table. His big, ebony hand lingers a moment before sliding away. The two share a private smile that makes my ovaries ache. “See?”

  “Huh.” Nick dots a kiss behind my ear. “We should put in our order for another niece.”

  “Or nephew.” Delight ripples through me at his slip of the tongue. We. A good indication I’m right about tonight’s plans.

  “I love seeing our families together.” His gaze moves past his sister to the tight knot of Judson offspring in the corner. Dean, Cooper, Lana—all five of my brothers and sisters are here somewhere.

  A few feet away, my parents huddle in conversation with Nick’s mom and dad. My soon-to-be-in-laws? I hate to be presumptuous, but all signs are there. Nick did ask me last week what I thought of public proposals. A comment on the viral TikTok video we watched together, or something more?

  My money’s on more.

  I skim a hand down his chest. “I can’t believe you managed to get everyone in one place.”

  Nick laughs warm and low. “There’s a lot to be said for just asking for what you want.”

  I shiver, recognizing the quote he gave Businessweek last month about the success of his construction firm. Tonight, I hear it with fresh ears.

  If Nick’s about to ask me something, the answer is an unequivocal yes.

  His dad says something that makes my mom laugh, and I catch myself smiling. Our parents met before we did, since Angela and Darius Armbrust are prominent entertainment lawyers, and my parents are—well, Laurence and Shirleen Judson. Enough said.

  Though not enough has been said about why Nick summoned us here this evening. I’ve asked him for weeks, but all he’ll say is it’s a surprise. Even Alexis has no clue. All Nick says is that he needed to line things up before sharing his plans.

  I sip from my champagne flute and order myself to keep my voice casual. “You went all out for this soiree.”

  “It’s a big occasion.” He winks, and there go the damn butterflies in my stomach.

  I know I should play it cool. That’s what I’m known for, after all. Entertainment Weekly dubbed me the “She Shark,” a reference to my cool poise on set. What the hell does that even mean? They’d never write that about a male producer.

  But it’s true I’m cool under pressure. Always have been, though maybe not where Nick’s concerned. One look at him, and my kneecaps melt like butter.

  “I heard what you did for Lana.” Nick brushes my hair back from my face. “Pretty badass.”

  I frown. “What did you hear?”

  “That you kneed that actor in the balls for grabbing her ass at a fundraiser.”

  Goddammit. Hollywood’s getting too small.

  “Repeat that to anyone, and you’ll get the same.” I keep enough sweetness in my voice so he knows I’m teasing, but he must see steel in my eyes because he inches back a little. “Seriously, Nick—don’t repeat that.”

  “It’s true, though.”

  He didn’t add a question mark, so I don’t bother answering. “No one fucks with my family.”

  Nick’s chest rumbles as he chuckles. “And I dig that about you.”

  “Thanks.” I think. Speaking of family— “I’m going to go say hi to Mari, okay?”

  Nick spots her in the corner and waves. “She just getting here?”

  “She came straight from taping a demo for Shrink to the Stars. Want to come find out how it went?”

  He kisses me again before releasing my hand. “You go ahead. There’s something I need to do.”

  The way his fingers just skimmed the breast pocket of his suit has me speculating about that something. Is my ring in there?

  Flashing one last smile, I stride toward my middle sister, who’s waylaid by our youngest. Mari looks sophisticated in off-the-shoulder Chanel, while Lana’s peach complexion glows in green Dolce & Gabbana. I’m so proud of my sisters, for how they’re forging their own paths, stepping out of our parents’ shadows, becoming strong, confident—

  “Lauren, sweetheart.” Fingers clamp my arm, and Shirleen Judson—aka sex siren of seventies cinema, aka my mother—tugs me to stand beside her. “Lovely party.”

  I frown at her empty seat. “Weren’t you just sitting over there?”

  “I wanted to speak with you.” She smiles and waves at someone en route to the bar. A director, I think? The faces blend together these days.

  My mother lowers her voice. “Things seem to be going well with Nick.”

  “I suppose so.” It’s not the gushing response she’s probing for, but I won’t give her the satisfaction of seeming too eager. Too needy.

  “Don’t be coy, Lauren.” She tucks a swatch of hair behind my ear, then flutters her fingers at someone strolling through the side door. “There’s a reason you work behind the cameras. You’re not that good an actress.”

  The words don’t sting because I won’t let them. Also, I never wanted to be an actress. I’ve made a name for myself behind the camera, so Shirleen Judson can suck it.

  Not that I’d say that out loud. “Was there something you wanted?”

  My mother sighs. “You’ve got an attractive man with a promising career and a good family. You’re running out of time to close the deal.”

  This conversation again. “Marriage isn’t the crowning achievement it was in your day.” A low blow, but she asked for it. “I’ve got my own promising career. Maybe I don’t care about marriage.”

  “Sweetheart.” She rubs my shoulder, a comfort I’m annoyed to find myself craving. “Is that why you and Lana looked at wedding gowns last week?”

  I blink. “How did you—”

  “Or why you pulled up that photo of the pink diamond ring the morning we had mimosas?”

  I clench my jaw, willing myself not to react.

  She squeezes my arm with a satisfied smile. “Mothers know everything, dear.” Dropping her hand, she takes a step back. “I’m proud of you, darling. Now go close the deal.”

  She walks away while I’m still processing her words. Is she proud of me for dating the man Businessweek called “Hollywood’s most up-and-coming entrepreneur,” or for my own career achievements?

  My Oscar nod last year solidified my standing as part of Judson royalty, and God knows my mother had her own Hollywood career. It’s not like she wants me barefoot and chained to a stove.

  But deep down, I know I won’t earn her awe until I’ve achieved the great trifecta. Career, beauty, and the cover of People magazine’s wedding issue, not necessarily in that order.

  Squaring my shoulders, I pivot and march toward my sisters. Mari turns and meets my eye, and I’m opening my mouth to call to her when a mic squeal slices the party chatter.

  “Heeeyyy, everyone! Thanks for being here.” Nick’s voice is smooth as polished maple, and I turn as my heart kicks to a quick canter. He’s standing on a raised platform, and when he catches my eye, he winks. “Part of why we’re here tonight is to celebrate the opening of Armbrust Anaheim, so thank you all for making it happen.”

  I clap along with everyone, heart in a full gallop now. His modesty is one thing I admire about him, and I love that he makes it sound like the new Armbrust Resort was a joint effort.

  But I know he turned down his parents’ offer of seed money. He designed all those pretty little cabins himself, slinging a hammer right alongside his crew. He did it on his own, and I’m damn proud of him.

  My husband.

  I know I said I don’t care about marriage, and I don’t. But seeing him up there, dark skin like smooth mahogany under the lights, I can’t stop picturing our future.

  Nick clears his throat and continues. “I’d like to thank my parents, Angela and Darius Armbrust, for not disowning me when I quit law school to work construction.”

  A ripple of laughter moves through the room, but I keep my eyes on Nick. On the flicker of anxious pride in his eyes. I wonder if anyone else sees it.

  “I’d also like to thank Lauren Judson.” He turns to me and smiles. “Girl, you’ve
been my rock through all of this.”

  More applause, and I demur like I learned to do before I could walk. My brain snags on the word “rock,” curious if it’s a clue.

  “Speaking of rocks,” he continues, and my breath catches in my throat. “I have an important announcement. Well, an announcement and a special request.”

  Oh my God.

  This is happening. It’s really happening.

  Tears needle my eyelids, but I blink them back. With the sharp points of my manicure, I pinch the skin between my thumb and pointer finger the way I learned at sixteen.

  “Do this when you think you might cry,” my mother instructed on the eve of my first major awards ceremony. “The pain will distract you.”

  But nothing distracts me from the glint in Nick’s eye, the shape of him in that well-tailored suit, the fullness of lips I’ve kissed a thousand times as he lifts the mic again.

  “Let me back up a little bit,” he continues, voice cracking a little. He laughs and clears his throat, glancing at the bright light shining down on him. “Wow, this is harder than I thought. I’m not used to being in the spotlight.”

  Should I help? I grew up in the spotlight, so public speaking is like breathing. I edge close to the platform, breath coming quicker now.

  “Let me try this again.” He shifts the mic to his other hand and smiles at me before lifting his gaze to the crowd. “Ten months ago, on a trip to Colorado, I went to see one of my favorite performers.”