Release Date: October 15
My approach to dating has served me well.
As a prominent divorce attorney and Manhattan’s most eligible bachelor, I’m as sought after in the courtroom as I am in the bedroom. Winning in both arenas is my specialty.
The only thing I ever lost was the nerve to tell the girl of my dreams how I felt about her. Seven years later, I might be getting the opportunity when she moves into my spare bedroom.
Though I used to laugh at the notion of love, her bright blue eyes, soft heart, and quick wit has me . . . feeling things. New emotions.
And I’m starting to realize that if there’s one woman who can change my confirmed bachelor ways, it’s Tealey Bell, aka my Achilles’ heel.
So when did it all go wrong?
For that answer, we must go back to beginning when I promised one friend a favor and fell head over feels for another.
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A gentle knock on the door has me sitting up in bed. “Yes?”
“You still up?” Rad whispers from the other side of the door.
Not sure what he’s doing here, I push off the bed and answer it, leaning my cheek against the painted wood. “Hi.”
He smiles. “Hi. The day got away from me before I could talk to you.”
“About anything specifically?” My stomach flutters with the butterflies I brought in from the beach.
His gaze drops to our feet. Everything slows when his eyes meet mine again, and he says, “I’ve been thinking about you.”
I lick my lips and swallow as my spine straightens, not wanting to be slouching during such a confession. Gripping the door, I ask, “You have?”
“I have, and I was thinking . . . wondering . . . Well, I haven’t exactly used words to show you what I’m thinking. And I want to change that. I’ve held back in fear of you saying no. But I’ve been thinking about us and the possibility of more. More of us.” He looks down briefly, and if I didn’t know Rad as well as I do, I’d think he was nervous. But then he looks back up with no hesitation. “I want to know if you’ve been thinking about me . . . about us . . . like that as well?”
Do I confess my sin? Tell him how I’ve started to fantasize about him? What turns him on and hoping that damn towel would drop? And that with every touch, cuddle, and smile, I’ve felt more and more attracted to him?
Or do I shut this conversation down and bury my feelings in the sand tomorrow when I go to the beach?
His eyes search mine in earnest, so I say, “I . . .” I take a quick breath and exhale. “I have thought about you. A lot, in fact.” I didn’t know I could shock Rad, but I managed it.
I’ll blame the alcohol tonight for my slippery tongue and deal with the repercussions in the morning. “Terribly naughty thoughts.”