 by Aurora Rose Reynolds.jpg)
Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Willow Mayson isn’t ready to just dive head first into love, or at least not with any of the men she’s dated.
Then she shares a single unexpected kiss with a complete stranger.
Clay Raven doesn’t want the strings of a woman tied to him in any way. His priorities are his family, his job, and finding the people responsible for helping to kill his sister.
One kiss shouldn’t have the ability to change that.
Even with the chemistry between them, Willow attempts to put distance between her and Clay but the guy is tenacious, until he’s not.
For a guy who’s never put much effort into any woman, Clay learns quickly that he’s going to have to fight, chase, and manipulate his way into Willow's life if he wants to be a part of it.
Then just when Willow begins to let her guard down her friend is murdered setting off a string of events that could change the course of their lives forever.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Chapter 1
Willow
SITTING ACROSS FROM Alec, I tap my fingers against my martini glass as he stares at his cell phone and types frantically. Pressing my lips together as I study him, I wonder how long it would take him to realize I was gone if I just got up and left.
My guess? Twenty minutes, if not longer.
He and I have been dating for a few weeks; he’s a nice enough guy who checks all the appropriate boxes. He hasn’t stood me up, hasn’t once looked at another woman when we’ve been out, he opens car doors and as a bonus he’s good looking. The thing is he’s as boring and as obsessed with work as every other man I’ve dated. And, I mean, I get it–work is important but so is enjoying life.
And if I’m honest I’d like a man to be a little obsessed with me–I mean, not stalkerish–but I wouldn’t mind finding a guy who puts me first, who makes it clear that he can’t get enough of me–a man who gives me his undivided attention when we are in the same space, especially when we’re out on a date at a fancy restaurant and I’ve put in the effort of actually dressing up for the occasion.
With a sigh, I look across the dimly lit restaurant and spot the sign for the restroom with an arrow pointing down the stairs. Maybe a couple of minutes away from the table will give him time to finish with what he’s doing and give me time to get out of my head.
“Hey.” I reach across the space between us and touch his hand and his head flies up. “I’m going to use the restroom before our food comes. I’ll be back.”
“Sure.” He gives me an apologetic smile. “And I’m sorry. There’s just a lot going on at work.”
“No worries.” I muster up a smile and scoot out of the booth. “I’ll be right back.”
“Sure.” He checks me out as I stand and his eyes darken, letting me know he is not completely oblivious to me.
I walk across the restaurant then navigate down the stairs in my heels. When I reach the bathroom, I go inside, and since one of the stalls is already occupied I use the other. It takes a second to get the heavy wooden door to close but once I get it locked I take care of business, then try to open the door. It doesn’t budge, so I push it harder, and it still doesn’t move.
“No way.” I shove my arm into it like I’m a linebacker causing pain to race across my shoulder to the back of my neck, then kick the door as hard as I can. Nothing. “Oh my god.” I bang the door and yell for help getting no response, then look around the entire frame of the stall finding that there is only about a ten-inch gap at the top and nothing at the bottom. Taking a breath, I try to calm down and think, I don’t have my phone so I can’t call anyone, but someone will have to come in here eventually. Right? Right. Crossing my arms over my chest I wait, then wait some more. Without a watch or clock, I don’t know how much time has gone by, but it had to have been at least fifteen minutes, if not longer.
Starting to get anxious I look at the top of the stall then at the toilet. Maybe, just maybe, if I stand on the seat I can reach the top. Carefully, in my heels that are slick on the bottom, I place one foot on the edge of the toilet, then jump up as high as I can, barely catching the frame with the tips of my fingers. Using all my strength I pull myself up then swing my leg catching the toe of my black platform sandal on the frame. Without a doubt, I look like an idiot, but when I get my leg over, I use that to pull me up, only to find myself squished between the roof and frame of the stall. Wiggling, I squeeze through the tight space, then drop my legs and then look down as I hang there.