We are one week away from Leave Him Loved arriving! It’s safe to say I’ve never been more excited to press publish. There’s just something really special about Reeve and Audria. You’ll find out super soon!
In the meantime, I have an excerpt for you today. Enjoy a little taste of this upcoming treat!
I glance at his sneakers. “What’s your opinion on cowboy boots?”
“Everyone should own a pair.” The statement rolls off his tongue like an indisputable fact.
I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. “Never have I ever.”
“Oh, are we playing?” That sinful grin tilts higher.
The heat coiling inside me cranks hotter. “I was just stating a fact.”
“Next time we’re at the Salt Lick, it’s on.”
“That game is definitely more entertaining with copious amounts of liquor.” I tip the beer to my lips.
“Especially with your lewd frame of mind.”
“Ha, you’re hilarious.”
“And you’re the one who coined CornHub.”
I pick at some lint on the blanket. “You’ve got me there.”
“I appreciate your wild and adventurous spirit.” The gleam in his gaze returns.
A twitch crooks at the corner of my lips. Volleying with an equally sweet comment is a seamless move. Instead, I allow a trickling melody of silence to dance between us.
Reeve peers over at me. “Any interest in going to a football game?”
I knit my brows. Attending a sporting event had occurred to me as an option. I didn’t know where to begin with possibilities, though. “Iowa doesn’t have a pro team.”
“Damn, you’re cute.” He chuckles and lightly nudges me in the ribs. “I meant high school.”
And now I want to hide behind a tree. “Ah, that makes more sense.”
“Certainly does. So, wanna go?”
“Yeah, absolutely. I’m a fan of the game. Did you ever play?”
“Offensive line. I was a tight end,” he explains.
“No past tense about that,” I whisper.
“If that does something for you, I still have my jersey.”
“How about the stretchy pants?”
“Ball huggers,” Reeve corrects.
“Yeah,” I purr.
It might be my imagination, but he seems to bend closer. The blue in his eyes swirls with tiny specks of green. The usually cool combination sparks with fire. His hand barely brushes mine, but an unmistakable tingle zaps up my arm. Rather than retreating, he traces the center of my palm with his finger. This type of touch—whether by accident or very much on purpose is irrelevant—steps our harmless flirting up several notches. I suck in a sharp breath, and he notices.
Reeve shifts a safe distance away, taking his warmth with him. The absence of his touch is an immediate loss. His gaze burns into me, vivid depths swirling with undeniable want that I’m positive reflects in my own eyes. He leans in, ghosting the tip of his nose across my cheek. I tremble and tilt into him.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers.
I lick my bottom lip, preparing to eliminate this invisible barrier separating us once and for all.
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