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Girls aren’t the only ones who want to have fun. Women do too. For Natalie Coleman and friends, a bachelorette party in Cancun will be the perfect opportunity to let loose. Especially since the wounds of divorce still sting, and getting serious with any man is out of the question.

Parker Dunn and his buds have a similar goal. For this group, a canceled wedding doesn’t mean a canceled bachelor party. There are ladies waiting to be satisfied, and Parker has all the skills required.

But a weekend of debauchery does not make for a solid relationship. It’s what comes after and how you feel when the party’s over that separates men from boys.

You can’t choose when you meet the one. Sometimes it happens 7 Miles High.


Leslie Pike



Two strangers meet at an airport before boarding the same flight to Cancun. She is there with her friends to celebrate a bachelorette party and is ready for a wild vacation. He is there with his friends to celebrate a bachelor party for a cancelled wedding. But after a few days in Cancun, neither of them is ready to let their time together end… A fun, sexy romance is out now from author Leslie Pike, and I have an excerpt for you. The first part of this story was featured in The Spring Fling anthology, but this new edition has been re-edited and lengthened.

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The sharp edge of passenger 12C’s tote just stabbed me in the leg. I overcorrect, pushing my ass into the elbow of 12D.

“Sorry,” I offer an apology to the older gentleman. He’s rubbing his arm and grimacing like my ass is made of concrete.

The line of boarding passengers moves another few inches closer to their assigned seats. We’re following Holly whose breasts catch the attention of men already seated. Not one moved their heads. Just the eyes darted.

“Where are those guys?” Maggie looks over her shoulder.

“I can’t see ahead very far,” I say. “Speaking of eyes. What about the eyes on the brunette in the Nike shirt? Blue as glacier water.”

“I was busy looking at Matt’s arms. I’m going to climb that Sequoia,” she declares in hushed tones.

Maggie is very self-aware and if she says she’s going to do something, it gets done.

“Remember our mantra,” she whispers. “No inhibitions, no attachments.”

“You don’t have to remind me. This weekend’s for swimming in the ocean, wild sex, and bacon.”

By the furrowed brows of the woman I’m passing, I may have said that a little too loud.

Maggie and I are chuckling at my definition of a good time when Elizabeth pokes my back.

“That guy’s watching you.”

Oh yeah. It’s the guy. There in the next row, his stunning eyes on me as I move closer to 16C. Lord, he’s in the aisle seat across from mine. Thank you whoever is in charge of random blessings. This will be the greatest test of my resolve to keep things nice and easy. No inhibitions will be easy. It’s the no attachments that could pose a problem.

He’s just my type. Handsome, sizzling hot, and about six feet of gorgeous packed in a tight container. God help me if he’s just a pinch macho. It’s my kryptonite.

I hear Maggie’s throaty chuckle. She’s met the gaze of the redheaded bodybuilder with the overblown confidence. He’s got a shit-eating grin on his face like he’s read her mind and likes all the dirty passages. Clearly he has no idea who he’s dealing with.

“Hello, girls!” he says, welcoming our group.

We move as quickly as possible to store our carryons and get seated. There’s a short line of impatient travelers waiting behind us. Maggie makes sure Matt gets a good view of her well-formed ass as she lifts her luggage to the bin.

“Let me help you,” he says standing.

I’m half expecting her to flutter her eyelashes and him to flex his biceps. Instead, he lifts the case effortlessly. Standing too close for strangers, he invades her personal space. But no surprise, she’s digging it. This is a dance of peacocks.

As I take my seat, I glance at my next-door neighbor.

“Hi,” he says immediately upon locking eyes with me. His mouth curves into a movie-star smile. Wow.

“Hi,” I say.

No other words are coming to mind. I’m stunned into silence by whatever’s going on in my pants. He’s doing it without a single touch.

“I’m Parker. What’s your name?”

“Natalie Coleman.”

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