Tessa Bailey

I’m going to feed you before I introduce you to God.

When I start to pull the dress over my head, he stops me. “Leave it. I’m going to make you come in that dress. Then I’m going to fucking burn it.”

“Sit up. I’m about to banish the word coffee from your vocabulary.”
I prop myself against the pillow and take the offered cup. “Never going to happen. When I die, I want my ashes sprinkled over a Starbucks.”

“Let’s go home, then.”
“Where’s home?” I ask, laying my head on his shoulder.
“Wherever you are, girl.”

“If I’m not doing that, I’m doing nothing. I’ve been doing nothing.” Rosie laid her ice-cold hands on the sides of her face. For the past week, she’d been feeling apprehensive, positive things were moving forward too easily with her and Dominic. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. Was this why? “Oh my God.”
“That’s enough of this,” Dominic ground out, putting an arm around her shoulders. “Stop upsetting her.”

She didn’t even know which part of her was in command. Her head, her heart, her lady business. Or maybe they all were, three bitches hitting the switches of her control panel.

You want to dance some more, or can I bring you home?”

“Where is home?”

“With me.”

“Mmmm.”

He made a sound in his throat, leaned in a little closer. “I know they don’t require a picture to keep your account active. This was about making you smile, not me.” His gaze fell to her mouth, taking its time finding her eyes again. “Well worth it.” With that, he set down the drill and pinned his crew with a look. “Back to work.”

“I can be in a room full of people that I know and still not feel like I belong.”

Bet you’re used to men falling all over themselves to make
you happy, huh?” He tossed the can up in the air, caught it. “Sorry, I’m not going to be one of them.”