I smiled at the memory of hearing that story as Frank wrapped his arm around my shoulders.
“How are you doing?” he asked.
I looked up at him and smiled, “Doing good ole’ timer.” I teased.
His eyes twinkled, “When you meet your man, I hope he’s older than you are.”
I scowled, “Why is that?”
He snickered, then he lowered his tone, “Because I want you to call him your ancient artifact.”
I froze... and then... I burst out laughing.
I was still shaking my head as I moved into the kitchen to help with what I could.
Drinks were being handed out as the food was almost ready when I heard the bell chime in the house.
I had just placed the last of the dishes that needed to be cleaned into the dishwasher and pressed the start button when I heard a girl’s giggle.
I didn’t know that giggle.
And since I tended to be nosey during certain situations, I made my way out of the kitchen.
And as I rounded the corner out of the kitchen... I heard it.
That voice.
That makes your panties wet.
That makes your heart race.
That gives you chills, and oh, the best kind of chills.
And as my eyes scanned, I found him.
Then, when he opened his mouth and the way his voice caressed every part of me, I swayed.
Thankfully, there was a wall there to break my fall.
“I’m Bronson. Nice to meet you.”
Bronson.
So, this was Bronson.
I had heard about him from the group I was lucky enough to be a part of.
And let me just say that the way he was described did not do this man justice.
Now, I was all for men having any length of hair they wanted.
But seeing this man... There was something about his bald head.
Dark, artfully crafted brows that sat above the most stunning pair of eyes I had ever seen.
And I hated to do it... But his eyes... they were what I envisioned a character’s eyes in the book I was currently reading looked like.
Gold flecks dispersed around coal-colored eyes.
