Francesca thought she knew what she wanted in life until
one stormy night when she got a blast from the past.
When Randy receives a call at his auto shop one night from a
woman whose car has broken down and needs a tow, he never imagined he'd be
coming face-to-face with his high school sweetheart. Randy has never loved a
woman the way he loved Francesca, but she broke his heart, claiming he could
never provide the life she was determined to have. That was years ago, but he's
still bitter about the way she tossed him aside.
Seeing Randy again, Francesca realizes what a mistake it was
to breakup with him. She'd like to try to rekindle the old flame, and she can
tell he's still attracted to her too, but every time they're together, all they
do is argue. Can she convince Randy she isn't the girl he remembers and that
she can settle for love even if it comes without money?
Content Warning: explicit sex
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Excerpt:
Randy cleared his throat, hoping to break the tension between
him and Francesca. The way she was looking at him, he was worried she was about
to pounce. It was taking everything in him to not walk over there and kiss her.
Picking up a work towel, he wiped his hands on it and then
directed her toward the front office. She walked in front of him and it was his
turn to devour her ass. And hot damn, the jeans she wore were tight and molded
to her butt perfectly. Her pants hugged her legs all the way down. She wore
black boots that came to her knees. He wasn't sure what shirt she wore, because
his eyes had yet to make it past her luscious behind.
Once in the office, he stepped around her, getting a whiff
of a very tempting smell. He quickly sat and scooted under the desk as far as
he could. He was hard and didn't want her to see.
Francesca took a seat in front of him and he now noticed her
pink tank top that was cut low enough he got a hint of cleavage. Inhaling
again, he wondered what perfume she used. It really was igniting his senses.
"I spent some time looking at your car today. When was
the last time you had an oil change?" he asked.
"It's been awhile."
"I can tell. And how long has the car been leaking
oil?"
She shrugged. "Not sure. I wasn't concerned since it
was just little drops here and there."
"Those little drops here and there add up. You almost
had no oil in your car. And I hate to tell you, but you have torn up your
engine."
"Well, can't you just pop a new one in and it'll be
good as new?" she asked.
"I wish it was that simple. Here, look this over."
He slid a sheet of paper across the desk. "The top portion has to be done,
the middle is recommended, and the bottom is optional. The price is on there
too."
Her eyes widened as she read over the paper. She then
glanced up at him. "This can't be right."
"I'm afraid it is. You haven't taken very good care of
the car."
"I get it washed and detailed all the time. I take very
good care of it."
Randy shook his head. "There's a lot more to a vehicle
than just its appearance. You've got to take care of the things people don't
see too."
She was quiet for a moment and then finally spoke. "I
don't know if I can afford this."
He raised an eyebrow at her. "Don't you have some rich
man who can pay for it?" He regretted saying it the moment it left his
lips.
Francesca's mouth fell open and he could see the shock on
her face.
"I'm so—" he started to apologize.
"I can't believe you would say that, Randall. You of
all people," she snapped.
"Me of all people," he repeated. "What the
hell is that supposed to mean? If I recall correctly, you dumped me because you
wanted a rich man to take care of you. Tell me, how is that working out for
you?"
Francesca stood up, placed her hands on her hips, and leaned
forward slightly. As much as he hated it, his focus darted in for a peek inside
her shirt.
"I'll have you know that I'm not the gold digger you
think I am," she argued.
"I bet you refuse to date any man whose income level
doesn't meet your standards. Tell me, why haven't you married one of them
yet?"
"Why aren't you married? Can't find a girl who will
have you as a husband?"
Randy stood and stepped around the desk. "I haven't
found anyone else who can start my engines the way you could." He rubbed
the back of his fingers on her upper arm. "Haven't you found a rich guy
yet who can kiss you breathless?"
About
the Author:
Lacey Wolfe has
always had a passion for words, whether it’s getting lost in a book or writing
her own. From the time she was a child she would slip away to write short
stories about people she knew and fantasies she wished would happen. It has
always been her dream to be a published author and with her two children now of
school age, she finally has the time to work on making her dream come true.
Lacey lives in Georgia with her husband,
son and daughter, their six cats and one black lab who rules the house.
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