Veronica “Ronnie” Graham had always been called Audacious. She spent her teenage years out of control and at the age of twenty-six, is a single mother and struggles to find a better life for her son. She lives day to day and dreams of a future where she can stop being afraid of failing.
Jack Reilly shed his former life, and the responsibilities of his parents’ fortune, to hide out in small town Texas. He’s not expecting to tangle with a fiery redhead but once he does, he can’t stay away.
Jack went to the pantry area in the back of the kitchen and pulled a towel from the plastic wrapped bundle. It was plain white but it worked for his purposes, which was to clean up the house. He was glad to have one on hand to help the redhead who was quickly overtaking his thoughts.
She stood in the doorway, arms crossed, watching him with an intense stare. “Why?”
He glanced at the towel. “I bought one of those bulk packs. Figured I’d need—”
“No, not the towels. Why me?” She crossed her arms and waited. It seemed that this woman had more armor than an armadillo. A nearly impossible nut to crack.
“I like you. You don’t have any falseness about you. I find I need people who are who they say they are.” There was more to it than that, but that was the primary reason he’d been drawn to her.
“How do you know I’m not shining you on?”
“My gut tells me. I trust it.” He stepped toward her with the towel in one hand. When he reached the doorway, he leaned against the casing and looked down toward her freckled countenance. “Besides, you do laundry like a goddess.”
She smacked his shoulder. “Flatterer.”
“Is it working?” He kissed her, just a brush of the lips, then lapped at the seam of her mouth until she opened it.
Light surged through him as he kissed her, their tongues dancing and tangling. His body tightened and eagerly awaited more.
She broke the kiss and moved back a step, her lips glistening and swollen. “Good night, Jackson.”
“Will you come by later?”
“No, I’m not ready for later.” She kissed him once more, fast and hard, pressing her breasts into his chest.
He groaned. “You’re killing me.”
With that, she turned and left him standing there with an aching staff, wishing she was ready for later. Ronnie was like a drug he was fast becoming addicted to.
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