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Her Blue Collar Boss: Billionaire Boss Romances (Locke Family Romance)

Her Blue Collar Boss: Billionaire Boss Romances (Locke Family Romance)

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Her Blue Collar Boss: Billionaire Boss Romances (Locke Family Romance)

Jennifer Youngblood

He had one job to do—but that didn’t include falling in love.

When Xander Locke gets on his motorcycle and rides from Texas to Alabama, his plan is simple—go undercover to gather intel on the Bell family so his brother can orchestrate a seamless takeover of the Bell’s small-town newspaper. Xander never expects to meet Juliana Bell face-to-face, and he certainly doesn’t anticipate the sparks that run like a blowtorch through his veins when they touch. Juliana is everything Xander never even realized that he wanted … until now.

Too bad she’s going to hate him when she learns the truth.

Can Xander find a way to satisfy the demands of his high-powered family while still being true to the woman he loves?

The Blue Collar Boss is the first in the Locke Family Romance Series. The second book, Her Lost Chance Boss, is now available.

You’ll also enjoy the O’Brien Family Romances:
The Impossible Groom
The Twelfth Hour Patriot
The Stormy Warrior

👇Scroll down to read an excerpt and the first chapter

Ebooks included:

  • Love Him or Lose Him
  • Love on the Rocks
  • Her Blue Collar Boss
  • Love Under Fire

Read an Excerpt

❤️ EXCERPT

She turned on the radio and rolled down the windows in her Ford pickup truck, appreciating the fresh breeze that flowed in. The two-toned truck, spotted with rust, rattled and sputtered like a crotchety old man, but at least it ran. It had belonged to her dad, which made her more partial to it, despite its deficiencies.
Spring was in the air, making everything dewy and fresh. Her eye caught on the bright pops of yellow daffodils growing in the nearby field. The tender grass was so green that the color was almost electric. She hummed along to the tune of the song playing on the radio, her spirits lifting. Spring was a great time for a new beginning. She firmly believed she had it in her to turn the paper around.
Juliana did a double-take when she spotted a guy up ahead, standing on the right-hand shoulder of the road, hitchhiking. A motorcycle with a flat tire was parked beside him. Poor guy! Unconsciously, she slowed her speed. Two thoughts ran through Juliana’s mind simultaneously—one, he had a nice-looking build and, two, she didn’t recognize him. With a population of just over fifteen thousand people in the city limits of Cripple Creek, Juliana was sure she would’ve noticed a guy like him walking around town. He must be new to the area or just passing through. Probably just passing through. Cripple Creek had a severe shortage of eligible men to date, as evidenced by her getting desperate enough to go to the pizza parlor with Wallace Turley. Wallace had followed her around like a puppy dog today at the school. What was it with guys who assumed that after one date you were going steady? She’d have to eventually have a talk with Wallace if he didn’t back off.
When she got next to the guy, he smiled, causing her heart to do a strange flip. It struck her that he had some of the most incredible blue eyes she’d ever seen—as light and pure as a summer sky.
Like a dweeb, she flashed a goofy smile. Her first impulse was to stop and offer help. Then, she thought of her ridiculous appearance. She groaned inwardly. Why couldn’t she have come upon this guy later, after she’d showered? She laughed at herself for her idiotic thoughts. The guy was probably married. All good-looking men were married, it seemed.
She glanced in her rearview mirror as she drove past and could feel the guy’s disappointment. He lowered his thumb, his shoulders sagging. She could almost hear her dad’s reprimanding voice in her ears. Didn’t I teach you better than that? In Cripple Creek, people help one another. It’s just what we do. But was it safe to pick up a stranger? The guy was in trouble. His motorcycle had a flat tire. It wasn’t like he was out randomly hitchhiking. She was only a mile from her house. She could take him there and let him call for a mechanic. Wait a minute! Why hadn’t the guy just called for a mechanic? He probably had. Matt Sorenson was the only mechanic in town. When Juliana saw him at the school earlier, sporting his Jon Bon Jovi costume, he’d complained how he was short-staffed because his nephew Pete had just left for California and his main helper Stew was out for the week because his wife just had a baby. The nearest towing company was a town over. Unless someone stopped to help this poor guy, he’d be walking his bike back to town. The voices warred inside Juliana’s head until her foot acted on its own accord. She slammed on the brakes, the movement sending her lurching forward. Before she could talk herself out of it, she put the gear shift in reverse, and backed up.
“It looks like you could use a ride,” she said through the open passenger window.
The man approached the truck in swift strides and leaned in. “That would be great. My phone’s dead. I forgot to pack my charger,” he explained with a crooked grin. Then, he got a good look at her face. He jerked, eyes widening.
Heat flared over Juliana’s cheeks. “I’m posing as a stand-in for Cindy Lauper,” she joked. “You know, because girls just wanna have fun.” She winced. Sheesh, that sounded lame.
He laughed, the rich melodic sound flowing out like a ballad. “Evidently.”
She wasn’t sure if his response was a compliment or an insult, but at least he’d laughed. She liked the easy sound of his laughter and how the corners of his eyes crinkled. “It was 80s punk rock day at my daughter’s elementary school,” she explained.
“Ah, makes sense.” He flashed a friendly smile. “Do you mind giving me a ride to the nearest auto repair shop? Or better yet, I could just use your phone to call a service to get me.”
She stifled a giggle. “I can tell you’re not from around here.”
He looked confused. “Why do you say that?”
“Because the only mechanic in town is spread so thin that it’s doubtful he would leave his shop. But, he’s probably at home trying to peel off his skin-tight leopard pants.”
He gave her a dubious look. “Huh?”
“Matt’s son is in my daughter’s class. He’s sporting his Jon Bon Jovi outfit today.”
A smile ruffled his lips. “I see.”
His short beard was scraggly, making her wonder if he’d also forgotten to pack his razor along with his charger. From a distance, he’d looked like Captain America with his lean, chiseled frame. Up close, the best she could give him was boyishly cute with his mop of wavy, brown hair sun-bleached on the ends. He looked haggard, his clothes covered in a layer of road dust. His hair was oily, making her think he could use a shower as much as she. He certainly had incredible eyes. She had to give him that. Earlier, when their eyes met, she’d felt her world tilt. Or maybe she’d imagined it. It was quite possible that the thick coats of hairspray and paint had killed off one too many of her brain cells this morning, making her delusional.
“How about this? I live a mile away and was just going home to change out of this get-up so I can get to work. If you don’t mind hanging out and chatting with my mom for a few minutes while I get ready, I’ll take you back into town. It’s only about a fifteen-minute drive.”
“Sounds like a plan.”

Read the First Chapter

📚Chapter 1

Xander pulled his Harley up to the curb and killed the engine. He removed his helmet and raked a hand through his windblown hair as he glanced up at the Locke Media Group building, shining like a new penny in the bright Dallas sun. The Locke building was heralded by many as one of the most prominent and distinctive buildings in downtown Dallas. The steel and glass modern structure was impressive, but a little showy for Xander’s taste. He had to hand it to the old man. He certainly knew how to make a statement. A begrudging smile tugged at his lips. To each his own.
A reed-thin doorman approached with a pensive expression. “I’m sorry, sir, but you can’t park here.” He motioned. “The public parking garage is just around the corner.”
Before Xander could respond, a middle-aged man with thinning hair on top rushed out of the building. He shot the doorman an exasperated look before turning his attention to Xander. “Mr. Locke,” he said smoothly, a smile filling his meaty face. “Welcome.”
Xander gave the man a hearty handshake. “Hey, George. How about those Mavericks?”
George shook his head, a grin overtaking his lips. “They had me worried in the first half, but they managed to pull off the win by the skin of their teeth.”
“The end is all that counts, right?”
“Yes, sir,” he agreed heartily.
Xander motioned to his bike and the duffle bag attached to the rack on the back. “Would you mind keeping an eye on my bike? I won’t be long.”
“Of course. Anything you need,” George answered quickly as Xander tossed him the keys.
The young doorman crinkled his forehead. “But I thought we weren’t supposed to let anyone park here.”
George’s eyebrow shot up. “If you’re gonna work here, sonny, then you need to learn who everyone is. This is Mr. Alexander Locke.”
The doorman blinked, his face reddening. “I—I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I had no idea.”
Xander offered a friendly smile to ease the tension. “No worries. It’s not like I’m a regular here.”
“That’s no excuse.” George placed the keys in the center of the doorman’s hand. “Colton will keep a good eye on your bike.” His voice hardened. “Won’t you?”
The words tumbled out. “Uh, yes … sir. I will personally look after it.”
“Thank you. Good to see you, George.” Xander patted George on the arm before tucking his helmet under his arm and striding into the building, the rubber soles of his leather Vans hardly making a sound across the polished stone floors. He approached the cruise liner-sized reception desk where two women sat, heads close together and giggling.
“Good morning, Meg,” Xander said pleasantly.
Meg blinked in surprise, recognition instantly lighting her pretty face. “Hello, Alexander.” Her voice softened a smidgen. “How have you been?”
“Great. How about you?”
“Good.” She gave him a longing look. “I’ve missed seeing you.”
“Yeah, it’s been a while.” Before Xander started working from home, he was a regular at the office. Finally, he couldn’t take the monotony of the routine any longer and exerted his independence, much to the chagrin of his dad and older brother. Xander had spent the last six months proving to them both that he could be just as effective working from home as he could shackled to a desk here.
Xander jutted his thumb in the direction of the elevator. “I’m headed up to see Brock.”
“Of course. I’ll press in the code to give you security clearance to go on up.”
“Thank you.” He moved to leave.
“Uh, Alexander?”
He paused.
Meg’s face turned pink. “I was wondering if maybe we could grab something to eat sometime.” She gave him a wistful smile. “Like old times.”
The girl sitting beside Meg looked surprised. Xander had never seen her before. He wondered if Meg was training her as a backup receptionist. “Yeah, maybe,” Xander said evasively. If Brock were here, he’d laugh his face off. He’d warned Xander that flirting with the receptionist wasn’t a good idea. It had seemed harmless enough at the time, but this was awkward. Meg was a nice enough girl and very attractive, but there were no fireworks.
“How about next Tuesday?” Meg asked.
He winced. “Sorry, I’m headed out of town right after I meet with Brock. I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”
Meg’s face fell. “Oh.”
“Good to see you.” He offered a friendly nod. “Take care of yourself.”
Meg smiled in disappointment. “Thanks, you too.”
He got on the elevator and pushed the button to go up. When the doors opened, Xander stepped into the reception area of the posh executive offices tucked away on the top floor of the building. Normally, a receptionist sat behind the desk; but today, the seat was vacant. That suited Xander just fine, one less person to have to make small-talk with. He padded across the plush carpet, breathing a sigh of relief that his dad’s door was closed. He loved his old man, but didn’t have time today for another one of his long-winded lectures, detailing the endless list of ways Xander could improve his life. He stopped just outside the door of Brock’s office, so he could observe his older brother without being seen. Thirty-three years old, Brock was four years older than Xander. With his corporate haircut, starched white shirt, and yellow silk tie, Brock was the embodiment of corporate success.
Xander had always thought Brock looked like their mother. However, watching him in his office, Xander was surprised at how much his brother reminded him of their dad Adam Locke, the self-made media mogul and CEO of a conglomerate of successful businesses. Brock’s head was bent over his desk, his face a mask of concentration. Behind Brock, a solid wall of windows afforded a spectacular view of downtown Dallas. The scene was nearly identical to a photo Xander had seen in a popular magazine where Brock was named Dallas’s most eligible bachelor.
Brock was in his element here in this regimented world of polished desks, armies of assistants, and swanky conference rooms; whereas Xander was a fish out of water. No, more like a trapped eagle with clipped wings. The past six months had been great because Xander had forged his own path. He enjoyed many of the aspects of the business and had no problem working hard to accomplish tasks and goals, but he wanted to remain behind-the-scenes and let Brock take the limelight.
“Knock, knock,” Xander said dryly as he leaned against the open doorway and rapped his knuckles on the frame.
Brock looked up, a smile tugging at his lips. He sat back in his seat. “Well, well, the prodigal, blue-collar brother returns to the office. Did you lose your razor?”
Xander was getting scraggly, but decided he wouldn’t bother with shaving while he was on his road trip. “How’s my favorite stuffed shirt?” He chuckled. “Or is it Dallas’s most eligible bachelor?” It was fun to watch as Brock pulled at his tie, a pained expression coming over his face. Brock hated that title and all the hoopla that went with it, which is why Xander enjoyed tormenting him about it.
Xander strolled in and placed his helmet in one of the chairs facing Brock’s desk. Brock stood and came around the desk. The brothers did a half-hug, half shake that ended with a few forceful pats on the shoulders—their usual posturing for dominance. Brock resumed his seat and Xander sat down in the empty chair across from Brock’s desk. He crossed his legs in a side stance with his ankle resting on his thigh.
A teasing light came into Brock’s eyes. “I’m glad you’re here, little brother. You can give me your input on your office redo. I think I’ll turn it into a second conference room, since you’re never here.”
Xander waved a hand. “Suits me just fine.”
Brock grunted. “Yeah, I know, but Dad would freak. He’s still holding onto the hope that you’ll come to your senses and rejoin us here at the office.” Amusement sparked in his eyes. “That you’ll put aside your eccentric habits and become a corporate poster boy.”
“Don’t hold your breath.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I won’t. Your work is impeccable. It doesn’t matter to me if you do it sitting in your pajamas or in that Evel Knievel garb.” He made a point of looking at the black leather jacket, jeans, and boots that Xander had on. “Are you really gonna ride all the way to Alabama on your bike?”
“Yep,” Xander countered. “The open road is calling to me, bro.” A smile tugged at his lips. “You’d hear it too if the sound wasn’t so drowned out by the noise of elevator music and copy machines.”
Brock laughed easily as he shook his head. “I guess we’ll just have to agree to disagree.” He propped his elbows on the arms of his chair and linked his hands, his index fingers forming a steeple. “Now that you’ve had a chance to go over the numbers, what’s your assessment of the newspaper?”
Xander rubbed his jaw. “It’s a grim picture … so grim that I’m not sure even we can turn it around with our own team.”
Brock nodded in agreement. “Our only hope is to get the old timers out of there and pump in some new blood.”
“Yep, that’s the plan.” He wrangled his eyebrows. “See, if I were a carbon copy of you with my face plastered all over the media, I wouldn’t be able to go in beforehand and collect all the intel that will make the takeover seamless.”
“True. Looking at you, no one would ever suspect that you’re a Locke. You look more like a mechanic.” He pulled a face. “Is that grease under your fingernails?”
“Yeah, I’ve been working on my Camaro. I tried to get it off with industrial hand cleaner.” He held out his hands, inspecting them. “This is as good as it gets, I’m afraid.”
“Well, you certainly look authentic.” Brock paused, and Xander could almost see the wheels turning in his head. Brock was methodical to the nth degree, which is what made him a great ops guy. “Once we get your assessment, we can figure out the easiest and most effective way to conduct the buyout. You know the drill. The lower the buyout offer …”
“The higher the profit on the backend,” Xander finished, repeating the phrase their dad had drilled into them since they were old enough to walk.
“You got it.”
“Frankly, I’m surprised Dad let this one sit for an entire year. The thing is hemorrhaging.”
“The only reason Dad didn’t step in a year ago was out of respect for his old college buddy. He wanted to give the family a year to mourn his death before bringing down the hammer.”
Xander grinned. “Proof that somewhere deep in that crusty, cantankerous body there’s a heart.” Both brothers laughed.
“Hey,” a female voice countered in a reproving tone.
They turned as Reese Adkins entered the room.
“Your dad may seem stern on the outside, but he has a heart of gold,” Reese said, wagging a finger.
Xander and Brock exchanged looks. “You would know that more than anyone,” Xander said with a subtle innuendo that caused Reese’s face to flame. In her late fifties, Reese could’ve passed for a decade younger. Dressed to the nines in a stylish pantsuit, Reese was an attractive woman with her chin-length, honey-colored hair and lively green eyes. She had been their dad’s personal assistant since the boys were young. Reese had been close friends with their mom Grace who died suddenly of a stroke. Reese was like a second mother to the Locke children. Xander suspected that Reese and his dad had feelings for one another, but they’d never acted on them. At any rate, Reese was good for Adam, buffing out his rough edges and keeping his feet firmly planted on the ground.
Xander stood and gave Reese a tight hug. Her light floral scent tingled his senses, reminding him of his childhood.
Reese drew back and held onto his arms, giving him the once-over with the keen eye of a mother hen inspecting her chick. “You look unkempt.”
“Yep, he seems to have lost his razor,” Brock hooted.
Reese frowned. “Have you been eating enough? You look a little thin.”
Even though Reese was trim and fit, she always thought everyone else looked thin. In her mind, all the world’s ills could be solved with a good Southern meal. Xander scowled, stepping back. “I’m eating plenty.” If anything, Xander had put on a few pounds of muscle due to his regimented workout schedule.
Brock hooted. “He’s been counting the calories, watching his girlish figure.”
Had Reese not been in the room, Xander would’ve leapt over the desk and throttled Brock for the cheap shot. “What’s wrong, bro?” Xander taunted, “afraid I’ll oust you for the most eligible bachelor title?” The corners of his lips twitched in amusement.
“You can have it, little brother” Brock mumbled.
“That’s enough, boys,” Reese warned in the same tone she’d used on them since they were kids. She turned to Xander. “I saw your bike parked outside. Are you about to head out on your trip?”
“Yes, ma’am.” It was ingrained in Xander and the rest of the Locke clan to respect their elders and to show that through speech.
“How long will you be gone?” Reese asked.
Xander took a quick mental estimate. “One to two weeks tops.”
A wicked glint flickered in Brock’s eyes. “My yacht against your Lamborghini says it takes you longer than two weeks.”
Xander laughed easily. “Admit it, bro, you’re dying to get your hands on the Lambo.”
“Not hardly,” Brock scoffed. “What person in his right mind wants a garage full of useless cars when you could sail on the open sea?”
“You might make a good case, if we lived on the coast. You have to practically go around the world to even get to your yacht … driving in one of those useless cars,” Xander joked.
A smile tugged at Brock’s lips. “Nah, that’s what planes are for.”
“Speaking of planes. I don’t understand why you insist on riding to Alabama on your bike when you could take a plane and be there in a few short hours.” Reese held up a finger. “In fact, I can call and get the jet ready right now.”
“No thanks,” Xander said casually. “The idea is to keep a low profile so I can get info.”
Reese’s eyes sparkled as she pumped a fist. “That’s the ticket. Give ‘em the ole’ Locke brothers two-step.”
Xander’s jaw went slack. “Huh?”
“You go in and get the intel. Then, Brock sweeps in for the kill.”
“You make it sound so morbid.” Xander made a face.
Reese tipped her head thoughtfully. “Well, it won’t be a picnic for the people at the newspaper.”
“No, but they should have an idea that something is coming down the pike,” Brock said defensively. “The paper has been losing money like crazy. We have to do routine cash infusions just to cover the payroll.”
Reese’s lips formed a tight line. “Poor, Coke. He’d roll over in his grave if he knew what was happening to his paper. His three girls and his brother work there. It’ll be hard for them when they realize they’ll no longer have jobs.” She shook her head. “I just hate it for them.”
Xander frowned. “Do you know the family?”
“I mostly know of them. Coke and your dad were friends for many years.”
“College roommates,” Brock supplied.
Reese nodded. “Yes. In fact, that’s the only reason why Adam was willing to invest in the paper … to help Coke when he got in a financial bind.”
It was true. Normally, their dad didn’t invest in newspapers that had a circulation less than fifty thousand. This situation had been purely charitable. Still, Adam Locke’s benevolence only extended so far. At this point, he’d lost a truckload of money keeping the paper afloat, and it was Xander and Brock’s job to clean up the mess. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be pleasant for the Bell family. The upside was that they’d gotten a free ride for an entire year, but it was time to stop the bleeding. Xander’s job was to make the takeover as painless as possible. He needed to find out details about the Bells and the newspaper so he would know their bottom buyout dollar. The good and bad news was that Locke Media Group owned eighty percent of the paper, so the Bells didn’t have a leg to stand on. They were lucky they were receiving a buy-out offer, especially considering the amount of money Locke Media Group had already sunk into the paper.
“You could take a commercial flight,” Reese suggested. “Fly economy, if you must.” She shuddered. “I just don’t like the idea of you riding ten hours on a bike … on the Interstate, with nothing between you and the hard pavement.”
“See, I’m not the only one who thinks you’re nuts for biking all the way to Alabama,” Brock piped in. “You should listen to Reese.”
While Xander appreciated Reese’s concern, he didn’t like being badgered. “It’s all part of the adventure,” he said lightly. Yes, it would be long, but there was something freeing about getting on a bike and riding the open road. It certainly beat being chained to a desk in a stifling office. “Where’s Dad, by the way?” Xander asked, changing the subject. “I didn’t see him in his office.”
“Golfing,” Reese answered.
“Dad’s falling down on the job,” Xander teased.
Reese cocked an eyebrow. “Actually, it’s a work meeting. Your dad’s hoping to close the deal on the strip mall in Arlington.”
Xander fought the urge to grin. One of Reese’s greatest qualities was her loyalty to his dad. She would defend him to her dying breath. Of course, the golfing expedition involved work. Xander’s dad was a workaholic, never stopping for anyone or anything. “Tell Dad I said, hello and that I’ll see him when I get back.”
“Will do.” She gave Xander a long, searching look. “Be safe.”
“I will,” he promised.
She offered a tender smile before leaving the room.
Xander plopped back down in his seat, shaking his head. “Dad’s an idiot.”
Brock looked puzzled. “Huh?”
“He has a woman like Reese, who would kill for him. If he had a lick of sense, whatsoever, in his pea-sized brain, he’d ask her to marry him on the spot.”
“I can’t argue with you there.” A smile slid over Brock’s lips.
Xander ticked through his mental to-do list. “I’ll drive as far as I can tonight and stay at a roadside hotel. Tomorrow, I’ll arrive in Cripple Creek. I booked a room at a bed and breakfast. I’ll stay there for a few days … or as long as it takes to get the information we need.” He slid a glance at Brock. “One week tops.”
Brock grinned. “Or two.”
“Whatever it takes.”
“Exactly.” Brock gave Xander a direct look. “I know I razz you about not coming into the office and for doing things the unorthodox way, but I’m glad you’re with me.”
The sincerity in his older brother’s eyes struck a chord with Xander. While Xander got along well with all his siblings, he and Brock were tight. Sure, they might disagree about methods, but the two of them cared about the business. Both had a grudging admiration for their dad’s prowess, how he’d built an empire from nothing, using sheer grit and determination. Their job was to safeguard that empire and to help it grow; so it would benefit future generations.
Speaking of which, Xander hoped to settle down one day, when he found the right girl. Hopefully, she was out there … somewhere. Brock was getting tight with Caroline Fleming, a willowy blonde model and former Miss Texas. Xander suspected that wedding bells would be sounding soon for Brock. Good for him. Brock needed a good woman by his side. As the oldest brother, Brock could set the example for the other siblings. Of course, after Brock settled down, the focus would be on Xander to find someone. Xander didn’t see that happening anytime soon. He still had lots of living to do first. Maybe Greer would be next. Greer was a family practice doctor. Then, there were the twins—Keaton and Storm, but they were still in college. They had plenty of time to sow their wild oats before getting serious. After that, came his baby sister Honey and Miley his first cousin, who’d come to live with the Locke’s when she was a baby. They were a motley group whose interests were as varied as the Texas weather patterns, but they were close.
Xander realized his mind was wandering. He could tell that Brock was ready for him to leave his office so he could get back to work. He stood and reached for his helmet. “As soon as I get settled, I’ll let you know.”
“Sounds good. Be safe.”
He got to the door, and then turned. “Oh, I meant to mention something about the name of the newspaper.” His eyebrows shot up. “Is it really called The Cripple Creek Crier?”
Brock chuckled. “Yeah, can you believe that? I asked Dad about it. All he said was that Coke Bell’s father, the founder of the paper, had an unusual sense of humor. I guess it’s a throwback to the olden days when villages had a town crier to deliver the news.”
Xander shook his head. “That’s the problem—the paper is stuck in the olden days. No wonder it’s failing. That name is the first thing that goes when we take over.”
“I hear ya,” Brock drawled with a wave. He winked, a cavalier smile drifting over his features. “See ya in the funny pages.”
Xander grinned as he repeated the second part of their favorite parting phrase. “Not if I make it to the feature section first.”
With a curt salute, Xander was off.

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