The One You Want

What’s happening is a very stern lecture. You do not walk to your car at night, alone, ever again. It’s dangerous, and I won’t allow you to put yourself in harm’s way. If I find out you have, the lecture will become a spanking.” She couldn’t help it. She smiled. “Is that what you’re into?” “Kenna.” “No judgment, really.

I’ve known him a long time. I admire him. Hell, I might even love him. He helped me when—well, he helped me, and I owe him. He never lies, never plays games. He always says what he means and means what he says. And he has made it clear you’re off-limits.

I’m going to my room,” Jessie Kay called. “Y’all do me a favor and argue loud enough so I can listen in without having to strain myself.

Don’t worry. I know she’s your sister. I’ll treat her right. In bed and out. I’m willing to listen to any objections you may have, though. No? Nothing? Okay, then.

You speak as if I actually have a soul. As if mine wasn’t ripped from me by lies and betrayal.

If you’d rather not go with me, I will completely understand and won’t hate you for more than a day. Maybe two.

She stared up at him for a long while, silent, her expression blank. Then, slowly, she walked to the wet bar and poured herself a drink. He followed her, willing to tie her down and force her to listen to him. “I don’t know why she’s here or how—” Splash. He blinked, wiped a hand down his dripping face, and realized she’d just tossed her drink at him. “Oh, Dane! You should see your face,” she said with a hearty laugh, shocking him. “And seriously, that was so freaking fun. I don’t know whether I should thank you for the opportunity to check another item off my list, or do it again.

Apparently you haven’t gotten the memo. I am the Ice Man. Rude, honest to the point of brutal and emotionally unavailable. Women aren’t exactly throwing themselves at me.” A pause. “Anymore.

Oh, sweet! New man meat’s made it to town, y’all. Let’s gobble.

He was here! And he was performing live and in-person girl porn—household tasks!

My momma says we don’t need a man to do our chores for us, ’cause we are smart and capable and I believe her even though Sara’s mom says men were born to be our slaves, we just have to know how to manage them.

Luncher is a combo of lunch and dinner. Too late for lunch, but too early for dinner. Trademark pending.

She gave him a double-birded salute, and he barked out a rusty laugh. I’m laughing. Me. When was the last time that had happened? He couldn’t remember. But she kept doing things to amuse him. Shock him, even. Like pulling out a sword and expressing a very real fear about zombies. Zombies.

The air smelled like testosterone and manflesh again. (That was a thing, right?)

This woman might have a daughter, but she was as innocent and pure as newly fallen snow.

Men! She would never understand them, but she would probably always enjoy looking at them.