Sunshine For Sale (Homegrown Hearts Book 1) by Cora Rose & Nicole Dykes

Sunshine For Sale (Homegrown Hearts Book 1) by Cora Rose & Nicole Dykes

Author:Cora Rose & Nicole Dykes [Rose, Cora & Dykes, Nicole]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-02-16T00:00:00+00:00


seven

. . .

braxton

Alright, so I wasn’t thinking about much when I plopped myself right down on Jimbob’s lap, but at the same time, can you blame me for just going for it? It’s almost like I couldn’t help myself. So much happened today, a long-drawn-out chapter of my life, and I’m not ready to go home to my mom and all those goddamn memories.

Memories reminding me of who I am and what I deserve.

Thankfully Jimbob wanted to cancel plans to go out to the bar with his friends. Honestly, I don’t know if I was up for it.

So, I figure that right now I just want to sit on his thick thighs and forget everything for a little bit. It’s surprisingly easy to do with Jimbob. He just stares so calmly at me with his wide, innocent eyes, licking his lips as he waits for me to make the next move.

“Telling me to shut up? That’s kinda rude, Braxton,” he says, his voice deep and cracking slightly, showing his nerves.

“Yeah, well, I meant it, and I don’t mince words.”

“What should we do besides talking?” Jimbob asks.

“I dunno. Something besides chatting aimlessly about the weather. How about that?”

“Hmmm,” he hums, almost like he’s thinking about it, but I suddenly feel his thumbs sliding up under my shirt, tickling my overheated skin. It makes my breath hitch as I lean into him a little more. The chair squeaks under us, and I gasp slightly.

“I don’t know if this chair is going to hold us. And if my memory serves, you don’t have the best track record with chairs.”

“It’ll be fine,” he says as he wets his lips again.

My eyes are drawn to them, pink, plump, so fucking right. So I lean in and seal his lips with mine. It’s soft and sweet. Too sweet. Just like him. This is not what I’m used to. I’m rushed, hurried, frantic almost, but he’s not. His big hand slides around my nape and he cups the back of my head, his fingers spearing through my hair. And despite not wanting to, despite wanting to remain rigid and aloof, I just melt into him.

With a small whimper, I explore his mouth with my tongue, his lips soft against mine. My hands splay across his chest and roam over his strong pecs. I love how solid he is, like a rock. Like a sculpture. Michaelangelo should have taken some notes on this man, should have captured him while carving into stone.

He would have been brilliant, would have been on display for centuries to come.

And yet, here he is, in Kansas. On a farm.

“Why the fuck do you always wear overalls?” I ask as I unhook one and push it off his strong shoulder.

“They make sense and they’re good for farm work. Why do you wear all black?”

I roll my eyes as I unhook the other clasp. “I happen to like the color.”

Jimbob cocks his head. “I think you’d look good in green, or maybe even pink.”

“Shut the hell up,” I say with a laugh and then fiddle with the neckline of his shirt.



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