A beautiful and emotional second chance romance with a strong heroine and a swoon-worthy hero. Must read! ~ USA Today Bestselling Author, Melanie Harlow
I left home ten years ago, promising myself I’d never return to the place where I had never been accepted. I was despised and ridiculed for circumstances completely beyond my control.
But when my grandmother passes away, I’m forced to return to Kansas. I will have to face everyone who hated me. But they’re not who I’m most afraid of.
My biggest fear? Facing him.
The boy I once loved more than life itself. The boy who defended me from them. The boy I’d disappeared on, leaving him nothing more than a horrible nasty lie and hastily scribbled note.
When Jordan finds out the secret I have carried for so long, I’m in for the battle of my life.
Or so I thought.
I might have wandered for years on a path riddled with thorns but with Jordan by my side, taking the long road home means more than reuniting with the only man I’ve ever loved. It might just mean finding myself, and the family I never thought I could ever have along the way.
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God. How screwed up was I?
“It pisses me off how smart you can be sometimes,” I muttered and sipped my wine, eyes drifting out the window. If that had been the case, then I’d twisted reality for years. Believed it and based a life off it. I pressed my hand to my forehead and sighed. “I’m such a disaster, Jordan. A complete mess. I honestly don’t know why you bother.”
“Because when you let your guard down and let people see you, you’re still the most stunning woman I’ve ever met. You only have to start believing it.”
I dropped my hand as pleasure whipped through my veins. He was always bold and confident. I wasn’t used to this new bluntness. “It’ll take a while.”
“I’m a patient guy. And I’m hoping that at the least, you’ll start to believe how I see you, and the rest will come. You just have to trust me this time. Can you do that?”
Could I trust him? God, I’d trust him with my life. It was a ridiculous question. None of the decisions I made were because I didn’t trust him. It was simple self-preservation.
“I can do that,” I finally said.
“Good.” He grinned.
We were ridiculous.
“So what happens now?” I asked. He gestured to my almost empty wineglass.
“Would you like another?”
“No. It’ll probably put me to sleep.”
He took his to the sink and dumped it. I drank the last two sips while he rinsed out the glass, cleaned up the small mess we’d made and resettled the wine in the fridge.
“You didn’t answer my question,” I said once he turned and headed in my direction.
“Now,” he said, and he shot me that smoldering look of his. Furrowed brows, head dipped, heat in his eyes I remembered oh so well, and continued, “We’re going to make out on your grandma’s couch like we used to. We kiss until we can’t breathe. Maybe, if I’m lucky, you let me feel you up a bit, and then I go home with a hard-on like I used to, and tomorrow, we try to do better than we did tonight.”
His hands hit my hips. His head dipped. A furious heat swam on my cheeks and spread, warming other parts of me with precision like my libido was directly connected to his voice.
And as his lips brushed my cheek, went to my neck, his hands slid up to my waist and I fell into him, the feel of him, his touch, and the way he moved so slowly and seductively, there was really only one word I could give him.
About the Author
When Stacey Lynn isn’t conquering mountains of laundry and fighting a war against dust bunnies and cracker crumbs, you can find her playing with her children, curled up on the couch with a good book, or behind closed doors, imagining the next adventures she’ll soon write.
She lives off her daily pot of coffee, can only write with a bowlful of Skittles nearby, and has been in love with romance novels since before she could drive herself to the library.
Stacey Lynn lives with her husband and children in North Carolina.
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