RacingQueen: Sounds like a perfect guy. Just have to sprinkle in a heavy dose of thrusting.
I nearly fall over with laughter.
“Girl, watching you is like riding on a roller coaster of every emotion,” Lori chuckles, leaning away as Char picks up her other sleeping infant.
“So, back to my original question.” Char’s voice drops to a whisper. “When are you meeting him?”
“I’m not. This is just fantasy. It’s like getting to know an actor of your favorite movie, they’ll be nothing like what you’ve envisioned.” I can feel my smile slip.
I don’t want to let in anyone who I don’t trust. I learned that lesson the hard way.
My lips brush Jack’s temple.
Letting Cash get too close, even against my better judgement, put everyone at risk.
Including my little brother who’s snuggled into me.
It’s a responsibility I don’t take lightly, especially after so many awful things have been happening around the ranch.
But there’s a part of me that wouldn’t mind a night of fun if I knew it was safe.
The mystery man is getting an insight into my favorite books, and what I secretly want more than anything.
A family of my own, with a man who wants me, would kill for me, and can’t keep his hands off me.
Crowbar her in
Oliver
I can’t get thatdamn book out of my head as I kick a bale of alfalfa down into the feeder from the hay loft.
Is it the story though?
Or the girl?
She wants to beowned.
Paige never did. I respected her “need for independence”, but it ended up just an excuse so she could run around without me checking in on her.
Maybe there was a part of me that didn’t care?
My skin never itched when she was gone like how the werewolf felt when he was separated from his mate.
I’d like to feel that someday. A driving need to be near someone that grips me so fiercely I can’t breathe when I’m not around them.
Except I don’t want to be used again.
Made a fool of.
I want whoever it is to crave me just as obsessively.
Although, I’m pretty sure those novels border on toxic levels.
But there’s a root of truth to them.
What’s ridiculous is to be crowbarring some random woman from an online bookclub into that ideal.
We’re never going to meet, so I can shove that plan out like the next bale of hay through the hole.
