Publication date: May 27th, 2013
Genre: New Adult Romance
“If you’re broken, I’ll fix you…”
I’m only twenty-one and already damaged goods. A slut. A failure. A disappointment to my picture-perfect family as long as I can remember. I called off my wedding to William Bailey, the only man who thought I was worth fixing. A year later, he’s marrying my sister. Unless I ask him not to…
“If you shatter, I’ll find you…”
But now there’s Asher Logan, a broken man who sees the fractures in my façade and doesn’t want to fix me at all. Asher wants me to stop hiding, to stop pretending. Asher wants to break down my walls. But that means letting him see my ugly secrets and forgiving him for his.
With my past weighing down on me, do I want the man who holds me together or the man who gives me permission to break?
Asher looks damn fine standing there, his dark shades blocking his eyes from the setting sun, a tiny silver hoop glinting in each ear. He is all hard muscle and tan in his fitted black t-shirt and faded jeans. I always said there’s no man as hot as my car. Now I’m not so sure.My first thought is that we could be naked and in my bed in twenty minutes. My second is of the story Lizzy just told me, a story that makes Asher the worst kind of bad boy—capital B, capital N, Bad News.I pull my keys from my purse. “What are you doing here?”His too-goddamn-perfect mouth quirks into that cocky half grin. “I wanted to see you.”“Aw! That’s what all my stalkers say.”He chuckles. “You owe me a date.”“How’d you even know to find me here?”“How’d you get the cash for such a sweet ride?”I drive a deep blue Mustang GT, a gift from my granny. She’s terrible with money and we love her for it.“Marry an old man for his money?” he asks.“Sure. But I was screwing his brains out when he died, so he didn’t mind much.”His smile never wavers. “I want to take you out.”“We discussed this already,” I say, my traitorous gaze dipping back to the bulge of his biceps. Lord have mercy. “I don’t do dates.”“So we’ll call it something else,” he says. “Try not to get hung up on semantics.”“And what if I say no?”Asher’s smirk should piss me off. This is a man who gets what he wants, and it’s written all over his face.I sigh. “Fine, but only if you have a signed note from your wife that says it’s okay if you play with others.”“It’s one night. What? Are you afraid you can’t resist me?”Damn. That’s a challenge. “Dinner,” I say, punching my key fob to unlock my doors. “But none of this macho, He-Man, I-drive-the-lady crap. I have free will and I like to keep my vehicle at my disposal. You might be hot, and I might be joining you for a meal, but you don’t own me.”“Are you done?”I try to stop the smile that’s coming, but I can’t resist. I don’t meet many men willing to call me on my bullshit. “Yeah.”“Do you like Cajun food, loud atmosphere, a good beer list?”I look him up and down again—a visual journey that is worth it every time. “Goddamn, Asher. You keep going and I might just think you had my number. Cajun Jack’s?”“I’ll see you there.” He heads toward his Jeep. When he turns back to slide his eyes over my body, I have to tell myself that the heat rushing through me is only a product of the scorching May afternoon sun.
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