Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 106839 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106839 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
So why are you even thinking about Erol, Rosie? If Amon is so perfect?
It’s a good question. And if I’m the one asking it, it’s kinda hard to deflect. But there’s an easy answer for my fixation and it’s called closure.
I need closure. I haven’t seriously thought about Erol Cross in probably six or seven years. I cried over him good when he first disappeared, but I was pregnant and hormonal. He faded over time.
But if he’s back… then that bastard owes me a fuckin’ explanation.
Yeah. That’s how I see it. That asshole owes me an explanation. I don’t need it to be in person, a letter will do just fine. But I’m gonna get this answer.
And then… well—I pause here to smile—then I’m gonna enjoy being courted by Amon Parrish.
God, when we were growing up he was the boy every girl wanted. Not the same way they all wanted Collin. All the good girls wanted to be Lowyn so they could date Collin. But the bad girls like me, it was Amon who prowled our dreams at night. He was always a one-night-stand boy. All the girls who got mixed up with him back then knew it was a booty call and nothin’ else. And most of them took it well when he moved on to another girl the very next weekend.
But he’s different now. And isn’t this every rogue-lovin’ girl’s dream? To tame the bad boy’s wild ways? To settle down with him and redirect all that savage masculine sexuality and swagger into tribal devotion and protectiveness? To gentle the angry man and wrangle that leather-jacket-wearing outsider into a husband and a father?
It is. Capturing the feral heart of a man like Amon Parrish and keeping it all for yourself is the plot of a teenage romance novel.
Or—I stop to chuckle here—a really good personals ad.
Which reminds me… I turn over in bed and grab this week’s edition of the Busybody off my nightstand. There is just enough of the dawn-breaking light leaking through the curtains for me to read it.
Rugged and worldly man seeks small-town woman with shining gray eyes and a personality to match.
I sigh. Rugged and worldly is a good combination. Amon’s always been blond. Not the dirty light brown of most boys around here, either, but a true blond. Add that to his blue eyes, squared-off jaw, and easy grin and this man is more than handsome, he’s downright sexy.
Must love dogs.
What kind of woman is gonna object to that? I mean, a rugged and worldly man with a dog? It’s like winning the jackpot twice.
He is charming, handsome, protective, and part-owner of a suspicious (but entirely legal) elite security service.
Now, some women might balk at this, but me? I just find it fascinating. I want to know all the little details about that Edge Security they’ve got goin’ up there in the hills.
She is smart, funny, adorable, and a good mother who did not get lucky, but got exactly what she deserved.
Honestly, this is what won me over. Because the last part, ‘got exactly what she deserved’, could be a very negative thing in my case. So it’s the context that makes it dreamy. Because my prize in this particular instance is Cross. It’s the perfect thing to say to a proud single mother.
And the ending, of course. She can pull off every kind of vintage and if she chooses him, she will never be alone and scared again.
Alone and scared. It’s an interesting addition to his ad. One I don’t quite understand yet. But I can’t wait for him to explain.
Even though I would never have labeled Amon Parrish as ‘most likely to be a good father’ back in high school, I can see it now. Yes, he’s still wild. But his worldliness has also made him wise. And not only that, he is kind. All men who love dogs as much as he does have kindness in them. He would be a good role model for Cross. Not that my son doesn’t have his share—all my brothers stepped up for Cross. Pate, Rush, Ash, and Lecter are all in their thirties, settled down now and with families of their own.
But it would be nice to have a man in the house again. To sleep next to someone every night. To be there when he got home from work. To talk about my day with a grown-up. Not that I don’t have friends, I do. But it’s not the same as discussing life with a partner.
I sigh again, closing my eyes to daydream a little before I get up and get ready for Revival. I gotta be there early because it’s a dramatic day. The conclusion to all the tension that has been building since Easter Sunday reaches a crescendo next weekend on the Fourth of July and the final act begins.