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  • Format: ePub

Brody O'Connor joins the revelry of the yearly St. Patrick's Day pub crawl, hunting a like-minded man for a night of fun and frolic with no strings attached. When a mystery man in an emerald green shirt engages Brody's interest, it doesn't take long for the hunter to become the prey.
Well-matched with his mystery man, Brody regrets his "no strings" approach to a night of shared passion that leaves him hungry for more. The morning after, Evan is gone, as agreed. Brody knows it was a mistake to let him go, and vows to find him.
Evan also never expected to meet someone like Brody. Now Brody
…mehr

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Produktbeschreibung
Brody O'Connor joins the revelry of the yearly St. Patrick's Day pub crawl, hunting a like-minded man for a night of fun and frolic with no strings attached. When a mystery man in an emerald green shirt engages Brody's interest, it doesn't take long for the hunter to become the prey.

Well-matched with his mystery man, Brody regrets his "no strings" approach to a night of shared passion that leaves him hungry for more. The morning after, Evan is gone, as agreed. Brody knows it was a mistake to let him go, and vows to find him.

Evan also never expected to meet someone like Brody. Now Brody wants to change the rules, and Evan decides he'll give Brody one more night to convince him to stay.

*_*_*

By nine o'clock, I wasn't sure if I was worried or angry, but I was jittery. Caught up in that first flush of a new relationship, I missed him on a visceral level. I longed for his presence, for his smell, his heat. His laughter.

I resisted the urge to call his cell phone, mainly because I didn't want him to think I was checking up on him. A family visit could last a lot longer than anticipated. A lot.

What had begun between Evan and me was not imaginary. It was remarkable and real, powerful and potent. Yes, we had a lot to learn about each other still, but I wanted to take my time, peel back the layers of him slowly, savoring each new revelation.

I'd reached my mid-thirties and had learned a few things. I could read people pretty well. Evan was as serious about me as I was about him. The only games he would play were those like the night of the pub crawl, open and for all to see. If he planned to see someone else on his way back to me, he would have said so.

Midnight came, draping a heavy cloak of worry over my shoulders. I knew, beyond any doubt, he'd not purposefully stood me up. I paced the floor, trapped by the four walls and a sense of impending disaster.

When the doorbell rang, I was unprepared for the adrenaline rush of fear that paralyzed me. I shook it off, bolted to the door, and flung it open. Darren and Cole stood there, grim-faced. A cold finger of unease traced the length of my spine.

"Do you two know what time it is?"

Cole, another of the Rumours partners, and an old friend, grasped my elbow. "Brody, we need to sit down."

I pulled away from him. "Why? What's wrong?"

"Brody, just how is it between you and Evan Delapontes?"

My stomach roiled, churning up acid. "Serious. What's wrong?"

Darren moved to my side, close. "Listen, Brody. We don't know much. Cole was on call this afternoon."

My knees threatened to give out. Cole was a paramedic.

"What call?" I grabbed him by the front of his jacket. He didn't try to shake me off, just covered my hands with his.

"About five o'clock, someone ran a red light and broad-sided Evan Delapontes' Jaguar. I recognized him 'cause he works in the same building with Nate. When I got to the club just a bit ago, Darren said you and he had a thing going…"

Seven hours ago. I should not have worried about pissing him off and gone looking for him.

The world took on an unreal, distant quality. The air in my lungs felt heavy, liquid. Surely I hadn't heard Cole correctly. Darren's voice came to me through a tunnel.

Cold fear, so icy it burned in my chest, kept me from asking the question, the answer to which could end all the hopes I'd built during the day.

Darren saw and spared me. "He's in intensive care at County General."


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Autorenporträt
KC Kendricks calls herself an accidental writer. After completing her first novel writing as Rayne Forrest, she was urged to submit it to a publisher, and everything snowballed from there. Today, the author has had over seventy books published.

In July of 2021, she tried to retire but her employer offered her a deal to work at home. She accepted. Now she balances work, writing, and hearth and home in a controlled chaos.

A native of scenic western Maryland, the author enjoys most activities that don't include snow. In warm weather she might be found walking the dog, biking on the C&O Canal towpath, planting delicacies in her garden for the deer to munch on at night, playing in the creek, or lazing on the patio with her Kindle reader or laptop.

She recently began to research her family history and can't drive past a cemetery without stopping to search for family sites. Her mission is to photograph old tombstones before the elements erode the stones and the names are lost to time.

For more about KC Kendricks and Rayne Forrest's writing life, please visit the Between the Keys blog at http:kckendricks.blogspot.com .

If you'd like to know more about the author's country lifestyle and her daily activities full of simple country pleasures (and a lot of work), please visit the Holly Tree Manor blog at http://hollytreemanor.blogspot.com .

KC can be reached through her blog, Between the Keys. All comments are strictly moderated by the author and personal messages are treated as such.

Follow the author on Twitter for up-to-date announcements at Twitter.com/KCKendricks.