All I ever wanted was a home—stability, hard walls, and roots so deep they could withstand the strongest storm. Through long hours and determination, I was finally on my way, signing contracts for my brick and mortar ship, and beginning to feel settled for the first time in my life.
But the night I met John Eaton, I felt that stability crumble. His smile was a mixture of little boy and pure devil at the same time. I knew his type, knew the sort of games that came with men like him.
So I pushed. But he pulled harder. I tried to fight it, to shove away the connection that clawed at my heart, but it was too late. Roots dug in, grew deep, and twisted. John fell for me, and I for him. He was impossible to resist. I was his.
But a secret is a dangerous thing. Held for too long, it can rip a life apart.
Destroy the man I loved.
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Taylor is a contemporary romance author who loves writing stories about real people. Ones with hopes, dreams, fears, insecurities, and flaws. She loves to read as much as she loves to write, and is thrilled to share her first novel with you.
When Taylor isn’t writing, she can often be found with her nose in a book, her face behind a camera, or spending time with her husband and three young children.
“So what’s the solution, Tuesday?” I gripped my skull and began rubbing. “Am I fired or what?”
Her head fell back against the bricks and she blew out a breath. “I don’t know. I don’t think I have a choice.”
“You always have a choice.” I met her eyes and braced my legs apart. “The way I see it, you have two of them. We can go back inside, and I can work my ass off for the next three months. You do your thing, and I’ll do mine. Or I get my crew, we pack up our stuff, and we walk out that door right now.”
Her chest was heaving so hard I could almost feel it, but she didn’t look away. She looked up and down my body as if she was making her mind up about something. “I thought maybe I’d been overreacting. But I was right, you’re an asshole.”
I chuckled under my breath. “I never said you had to like me, Tuesday.”
“Well I don’t.” She lifted her chin a little higher.
I nodded and stepped closer. “You can let me go, hope to find someone on short notice—one who won’t do half the job I will—or we can walk inside and forget this conversation ever happened. Just so you know, I prefer the latter.”
She looked toward the door, her shoulders rising and falling with each breath. She picked her bag up off the ground and threw it over her shoulder. “Fine.” She opened the door. “But if you piss me off one time, you’re out of here.”
She slammed the door closed behind her, causing the whole doorframe to shake with the impact. I gripped the back of my neck and let my shoulders fall. I’d grown up with three older sisters, all of whom required a lot of patience, but Tuesday may have just outdone them all. I pushed my back against the wall and inhaled through my nose. I needed a minute to compose myself before going inside—and if my instincts were right, so did she.
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