Nothing ventured, nothing banged...
I still don't know how it happened. One minute I was arguing with my arrogant competitor--our usual trash-talk over who deserves the larger commission. But somehow I went from throwing down to kneeling down...
It can never happen again. I don't even like Braht. He's too slick. He's a manipulating mansplaining party boy in preppy clothes.
So why can't I get him out of my head?
There are two things I know without question. One: Ash and I are destined for each other. Two: never trust a man with a unibrow.
Ash is my missing my piece. She's the sweet cream to my gourmet espresso. And nothing gets me going faster than her contempt for me. They don't call her the Ashkicker for nothing.
Eventually I'll win her over...if my past doesn't ruin everything first.
This book may be unsuitable for people under 18 years of age due to its use of sexual content, drug and alcohol use, and/or violence.
Man Card is a fun and hilarious office romance between a smart, sassy, and witty heroine, and a hero in a whole new league of his own.
Ashley Power and Sebastian Braht have been at it like cats and dogs since they became competitors in the real estate business. She can't stand the man (although we all know she begrudgingly finds him charming and hard to resist), but Braht obviously adores her. He takes every chance to flirt with her, and after a certain incident in a pantry, Braht is more determined to win her over.
Now that their best friends are pretty much married and they're officemates, Ash and Braht are in each other's company even more. But if you think it's easy cruising from here on out, you've got another think coming. There are houses they have to sell, ex-husbands out of prisons they need to avoid, and feelings one of them continues to repress and the other continues to nourish.
Ash is as loyal, headstrong, and fierce as I remember her in Man Hands. She's considered one of the best in the business because she's resilient, hardworking, and puts in the time and effort to become the best. Her past marriage has her closed off to men, so it takes her a while to open up to Braht. I love her relationship with her parents and with her best friends, and from that you can see what kind of person she to the people important to her.
Like a lot of other readers, I wasn't too sure about Braht when I first met him in Man Hands. I've never met such a high maintenance and flamboyant man such as Braht in romance fiction before, so I didn't know what to do with him. That doubt was all in vain. If anyone deserves to hold that veritable "man card", it's this guy. He's so confident of his masculinity, so sure of it, that he's not worried about getting in touch with what people would consider his feminine side. He's not an alpha, and not a beta either. Braht is his own kind of man. And I have to say I'm loving his brand of man very much. He's not afraid to let Ash lead the way, but knows when to take control. He's sweet, caring, and is the total romantic.
I had a lot of laughs reading this, but there were also times when I was on the edge of my seat in suspense, wondering what was going to happen next. Man Card is a sweet, entertaining, and a definite laugh-out-loud book. The chemistry is through the roof, the banter fantastic, and the story jam-packed with smart wit and an overall refreshing tone.
Tropes: Office Romance
POV: First Person, Dual POV
“Name your other favorite movies,” I challenge Braht.
“All of them?” He chugs his margarita.
“Hmm. Top ten? Top five?”
“That’s totally easy,” he says. Somehow I’ve gotten closer to him on the floor. When he sits back, I actually snuggle in beside him. He’s wearing a ridiculously soft shirt that feels good against my skin. And I watch with fascination as he ticks off the names of films on his fingers.“When Harry Met Sally. The Devil Wears Prada. Roman Holiday. Clueless. And Working Girl.”
I burst out laughing. I can’t help it. “Those are all chick flicks. You should just hand over your man card right now.”
“Not a chance.” Braht’s expression grows intense. “In the first place, I gave you a very thorough demonstration of my man card last week. I don’t remember hearing any complaints.”
I swallow hard, because this is certainly true.
“And secondly, you’re looking at this all backward.”
“I…am?” And why can’t I look away? He has the most beautiful, intelligent eyes.
“Yeah, you are,” he whispers. “It’s the guy who has a firm grip on his man card that can hold your purse. He’s not afraid to be seen with that Tory Burch you like to carry—nice color, by the way. He’ll free up your hands because he likes your hands, and he remembers all the terrific things you can use them for.”
“Oh,” I say slowly. Now my fingers itch to reach out for him. I have to make fists with both hands so I won’t do it.
“Furthermore, he’s not afraid to quote Working Girl. Because Joan Cusack is a genius. And who wouldn’t want to say Melanie Griffith’s best line out loud?”
I can’t help saying it with him, and together we sound like the world’s horniest Greek chorus: “I have a head for business and a body for sin.”
Sin sounds pretty good right now, actually. But Braht’s not done with his speech. “Any man who tells you that chick flicks are for pussies can’t be any good in bed. Because that man does not speak the language of women. He doesn’t know that a little luxury can erase a shitty day of worrying about your ex…”
Braht takes my hand in his and begins to massage it. He has a great technique, applying gentle pressure between each joint. I relax just a little bit more against him.
“…That man doesn’t speak the language because he’s afraid of sounding like a girl. But fuck that noise, honey bear. If a man doesn’t have the vocabulary to describe a satin teddy with peekaboo lace and mother-of-pearl snaps at the crotch, he can’t buy it for you and then strategically ask you to wear it. He can’t plan ahead to blow your mind sometime by lifting your skirt somewhere semi-public and dangerous. And he can’t get down on his knees and kiss that lace and then pop open those snaps while you bite your own hand to keep from screaming when you climax.” Braht takes a deep breath and lets it out in one hot gust. “Fuck. What was the point of this speech?”
“Um…” My voice is hoarse, and my face is suddenly very hot. Let’s not even mention my nipples. “Man cards, I think.” But I’m not sure, because everything tingles.
“Right,” he says with a sigh. “Still got mine. Shall we watch Working Girl next?”
“Okay,” I breathe, sinking a little further into his comforting embrace.