“While I still enjoyed this book and found it incredibly sweet, it wasn’t the book I thought I would get for Beck.”
~ Under the Covers

I was really excited to read this book because I thought the Rebel in THREE BLIND DATES was beyond sexy and I just wanted to know everything about his past.  Somehow in TWO WEDDING CRASHERS we didn’t get what I was expecting.  While I still enjoyed this book and found it incredibly sweet, it wasn’t the book I thought I would get for Beck.

Let me try to explain.  Beck had this bad boy persona in the first book and I wanted to explore some more of that.  He has issues in his past we needed to uncover, but I loved that he’s a bit edgy.  In this book, he was just …. completely adorable.  That’s not necessarily a bad thing, at all!  I just wanted a dash of bad boy.  That’s all on me and my expectations.

I really liked the meet cute in this one.  Rylee is a romance author that has lost her muse.  Her friends suggest she fly to Key West to crash one of the friends cousin’s wedding.  Beck has been feeling defeated after his blind date fail and his friends suggest he fly to Key West and crash their friends wedding.  And yes, it’s the same wedding.  But Rylee and Beck meet even before that and spend their whole vacation getting to know each other.  This was such a fun concept and idea, and I think the overall plot was developed really well!

My only complaint with that is that at times, all the feel good romancing felt a little boring.  I wanted things to shake up just a little bit.  And they do in the end, but I wanted a better balance.

That being said, this book was a fun, light hearted read.  Definitely not as funny or all-consuming as the first one.  And it does deal with some pretty heavy and serious subjects in the end.  I think they were only discussed without digging a bit deeper into the feelings those revelations can produce.

TWO WEDDING CRASHERS was a sweet and romantic read with a swoony, good guy, hero.  It wasn’t quite what I had hoped for but that won’t stop me from reading the next one.



Chills scream their way down my arms and legs, my nipples pucker, and just like that, with one word, all humor vanishes from our little conversation and awareness of this all-consuming man wrapped around me hits me hard.

Gathering myself, I say, “Tell me something Chris and Justine know about you.”

“Hmm.” His thumbs hook under the waistband of my shorts, playing with the lower part of my hipbones. His touch spurs on my pelvis, needing to rock, begging for him to go lower. My toes curl in my sandals and my back slightly arches, reaching for more. “Something they know about me.”

His mouth doesn’t stray from its position against my ear, and his hips start to slowly move underneath me, his legs tangling with mine. Involuntarily, one of my hands hooks the back of his neck as I hold on tightly to him, feeling like I need support from the onslaught of sensation I’m feeling.

I hear him say something, but it doesn’t register in my brain, which has turned to mush as his thumbs stray from my hipbones to right above my pubic bone.

There is no denying how turned on I am, how wet I am from his mere touch, how much—despite my reservations—I want this man.

With each stroke, my head turns farther and farther to the side until our noses are touching, Beck’s head bends forward to meet me halfway. My eyes flutter shut for a brief moment before I open them and am captured by those flecks of green and gold.

The air stills around us, our breath mixing, swirling between us, our lips so close.

One swipe of this thumb.

Another one.

I can’t breathe.

I can’t focus.

Another swipe, my head leans even closer, my tongue wetting my lips.

One more swipe . . .

My heart hammers in my chest, my skin prickling with awareness.

Beck brings his mouth even closer, only a whisper away now, and he waits.

Holding still.

His breathing feeling erratic beneath me.




And I’m gone.

I bring my mouth to his, slowly parting my lips ever so slightly, just enough to maneuver my mouth across his.

A low, provocative moan escapes Beck as one of his hands snags the back of my head and holds me in place, almost as if he lets go, I’ll disappear.

Needing more, I shift on his lap so I’m straddling him once again, my hands on his bare chest, feeling the powerful sinew that holds him together.

Our lips press and mold, mingling, taking, begging . . .


Beck’s tongue runs against my bottom lip, eliciting a moan from deep within me, lighting a fire so hot, so wild, my hands start to travel up his neck to his cheeks where I grip him, positioning his head so when I open my mouth, I can expertly dive my tongue onto his.

He groans, his lap shifting against mine now, his hard-on pressing against my wet and throbbing center. I match his rocking, using my position on his lap to take advantage of his length I can feel through his board shorts.

This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen, but God, am I happy it has. Maybe I really should live in the moment, maybe I should take advantage of the opportunity, maybe I should…


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[about-author author=”Meghan Quinn”]


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