A dying wish.
After years of loneliness, widowed Gabriella is ready to fill the void—as long as she doesn't have to give her heart to another man.
Caleb's screwed himself right into a dead-end existence. Faced with an ultimatum, he's hell-bound on changing his reckless ways.
A chance meeting has these two instantly attracted to one another, but when their paths cross again—this time as professor and student—the roles reverse on Professor Edwards as Caleb teaches her how to feel again.
As I stretch my vision past Aubrey, to another group of barely-dressed girls, I notice her. Long, coffee-brown hair falling down her back and almost touching her perfectly rounded ass. The ass that’s encased in a skin-tight black number and silky legs accentuated by heels that look dangerous. It’s a sin that someone who looks like her should have her eyes focused on the ground. Focus them on me, I will her. A package as beautifully put together as she is deserves attention—my attention. If only she knew she blows every woman in this room away. And not just because of how striking she is. There’s something about her, something different. This woman is a rare find in a room full of cookie-cutter imitations.
Her shiny waves cascade over her shoulders, bouncing as she walks in my direction. The deep chocolate hue compliments her radiant olive skin tone and her glistening green eyes. This woman is fucking gorgeous. Not the kind you take home to screw, the kind you take home to Mom . . . or, er, Grandma.
“Caleb. I was talking to you.”
I snap back to find Aubrey’s hands around my waist. “Conversation’s over. There’s someone I need to talk to.” I walk away, not even glancing back at Aubrey. I need to know who this woman is. I’m not a spiritual man, but she just might be sent from heaven. She’s the type of woman who could change the whole game. At least that’s the vibe I’m getting.
As I escape Aubrey, it’s as if I’m being magnetically pulled toward the woman now sitting at the bar. I watch her from afar at first, gauging her body language. Her fingers tap on the marble bar top as she waits for the bartender’s attention. She’s new to this. No regular waits for her order to be taken when she looks the way she does. Dude, I want to scream at the bartender, how can you not see her? She’s . . . God, not only is she gorgeous but there’s something about the way she’s fidgeting that tells me she’s completely out of her element. How could this sophisticated beauty be out of her element in a club full of women who wish they had half her class? And why is she here alone? If she were my girl, everyone would know it. My arms would be wrapped around her, my fingers settling on the small of her back, claiming her as mine.
I watch this classy creature as she plays with the curled edges of her hair, twisting the strands around her index finger. I play with my hair when I’m nervous. Is she nervous or just timid? Either way, I want to know. I want to know everything about this damn woman, starting with her name.
When she orders herself a Ketel and Seven I decide to be brave. “Make that two,” I add, getting comfortable in my stool.
At first she eyes me like I’m some creep, but then . . . shit! When our eyes meet it’s as if the universe has made up for every shitty thing that ever came my way.
Faith Andrews lives in New York where she is happily married to her high school sweetheart. They have two beautiful daughters and a furry Yorkie son, Rocco. If she isn’t listening to Mumford and Sons or busy being a Dance Mom, her nose is in a book or her laptop. She’s a sucker for a happily ever after and believes her characters are out there living one somewhere . . .