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Authors: Aimee Carson
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something you hadn’t given any real effort to didn’t hurt near as much as the alternative. What if she tried to fit into his world and screwed up so badly he walked away? The thought sat heavy on her chest, making breathing difficult.
So did the possibilities.
Her heart strained to cage the hope wildly building in her chest. “I will never be that perfect CEO accessory.”
Wes tipped his head, his brow furrowing with curiosity. “What are you talking about?”
“You know the type,” she said, beginning to feel desperate, not caring her excuses were lame. “The perfect hostess to your clients. I don’t want to feel obligated to wear the right clothes, or make that banal polite conversation that goes with the territory.”
“Well, I sure as hell hope not.” Wes’s gaze burned into hers as he advanced. “Because that isn’t the woman I’m interested in.”
The look in his eyes as he drew closer sent her body into a tizzy, begging for her to give in. If he touched her she was a goner. She’d never be able to resist the man who could so easily melt her into a puddle of “yes, please” faster than you could say “kitchen utensils.”
She began to back up. “I’ll chase away every business client you have with my opinions and my ‘shut the hell up’ T-shirt. I can’t be the kind of woman my mother and sisters are. I don’t want to be.”
“I don’t want you to be, either,” he said.
Dear God he sounded so calm. How could she argue with the man?
“Wes, my life is a mess,” she said, her voice growing desperate as she dragged her hand through her hair. “I’ve come home after ten years away.” She pointed in the direction of the living room where her family sat, waiting for the arrival of their prodigal daughter. “They don’t know who I am. Hell,” she said, her retreating footsteps faltering a bit. But her voice grew stronger as the truth came out with more feeling than she’d planned—all the fears building for the past year or more came rushing out with such intense feeling it almost hurt. Tears pricked her lids. “ I don’t know who I am anymore.”
Understanding flickered through Wes’s eyes, but he kept coming, slowly heading in her direction. Alarm bells clanged in her head as she continued to back up.
“And there are bound to be major bumps along the way to finding out,” she pressed on, scrambling to make her case before she ran out of room for retreat, and then her hips hit a kitchen cabinet.
Too late.
He stepped close enough to touch, and she fought her need for this man as he came to a stop in front of her. So near she could smell his woodsy cologne and see the beautiful little flecks of green and brown in his gaze.
“I want you in my life, Evie Lee Burling. Whoever you are.” The gorgeously fringed eyes and his words melted the last of her resolve. “I’m just asking to come along for the ride.”
Her resistance and doubt and fear crumpled like a soggy house of cards and she closed her eyes, leaning her forehead against his hard chest. Blowing out a relieved breath, he pulled her flush against him. Evie inhaled his scent and let the familiar sensation steal through her veins.
The sensation of coming home.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, loving the feel of his body against hers, the strong arms that made her feel protected.
“What were you going to do if I’d said no?” she asked, smiling up at Wes.
The faint grin that crept up his face curled her toes. “Pull out the spatula.”
Evie laughed. “You are such a tease, Harvard,” she said, snuggling closer to his chest and letting out a blissful sigh. “This is going to be the best year ever.”
Acknowledgments
To Heidi Rice, Amy Andrews, and Kate Hardy. I was a fan of you all long before I became a colleague. Working with the three of you has been a real privilege.
About the Author
The summer she turned eleven, Aimee left the children’s section of the library, entered an aisle full of
So did the possibilities.
Her heart strained to cage the hope wildly building in her chest. “I will never be that perfect CEO accessory.”
Wes tipped his head, his brow furrowing with curiosity. “What are you talking about?”
“You know the type,” she said, beginning to feel desperate, not caring her excuses were lame. “The perfect hostess to your clients. I don’t want to feel obligated to wear the right clothes, or make that banal polite conversation that goes with the territory.”
“Well, I sure as hell hope not.” Wes’s gaze burned into hers as he advanced. “Because that isn’t the woman I’m interested in.”
The look in his eyes as he drew closer sent her body into a tizzy, begging for her to give in. If he touched her she was a goner. She’d never be able to resist the man who could so easily melt her into a puddle of “yes, please” faster than you could say “kitchen utensils.”
She began to back up. “I’ll chase away every business client you have with my opinions and my ‘shut the hell up’ T-shirt. I can’t be the kind of woman my mother and sisters are. I don’t want to be.”
“I don’t want you to be, either,” he said.
Dear God he sounded so calm. How could she argue with the man?
“Wes, my life is a mess,” she said, her voice growing desperate as she dragged her hand through her hair. “I’ve come home after ten years away.” She pointed in the direction of the living room where her family sat, waiting for the arrival of their prodigal daughter. “They don’t know who I am. Hell,” she said, her retreating footsteps faltering a bit. But her voice grew stronger as the truth came out with more feeling than she’d planned—all the fears building for the past year or more came rushing out with such intense feeling it almost hurt. Tears pricked her lids. “ I don’t know who I am anymore.”
Understanding flickered through Wes’s eyes, but he kept coming, slowly heading in her direction. Alarm bells clanged in her head as she continued to back up.
“And there are bound to be major bumps along the way to finding out,” she pressed on, scrambling to make her case before she ran out of room for retreat, and then her hips hit a kitchen cabinet.
Too late.
He stepped close enough to touch, and she fought her need for this man as he came to a stop in front of her. So near she could smell his woodsy cologne and see the beautiful little flecks of green and brown in his gaze.
“I want you in my life, Evie Lee Burling. Whoever you are.” The gorgeously fringed eyes and his words melted the last of her resolve. “I’m just asking to come along for the ride.”
Her resistance and doubt and fear crumpled like a soggy house of cards and she closed her eyes, leaning her forehead against his hard chest. Blowing out a relieved breath, he pulled her flush against him. Evie inhaled his scent and let the familiar sensation steal through her veins.
The sensation of coming home.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, loving the feel of his body against hers, the strong arms that made her feel protected.
“What were you going to do if I’d said no?” she asked, smiling up at Wes.
The faint grin that crept up his face curled her toes. “Pull out the spatula.”
Evie laughed. “You are such a tease, Harvard,” she said, snuggling closer to his chest and letting out a blissful sigh. “This is going to be the best year ever.”
Acknowledgments
To Heidi Rice, Amy Andrews, and Kate Hardy. I was a fan of you all long before I became a colleague. Working with the three of you has been a real privilege.
About the Author
The summer she turned eleven, Aimee left the children’s section of the library, entered an aisle full of
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