Screwed Up: (An opposites attract Romantic Comedy) (Woolf Family Series Book 2) by Eva LeNoir

Author:Eva LeNoir [LeNoir, Eva]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-01-03T18:30:00+00:00

The next morning, I’m up and ready to grovel like a muthafucka. I’m showered and shaved, dressed like the business owner I (almost) am and I’ve already texted the guys at the shop to let them know I’ll be in a little late.

I’ve got some hard-core wooing to do.

Clearly, I was invasive and maybe a little on the neanderthal side, but in my defence, I thought I was making everyone’s lives easier.

Okay, fine.

I was making my life better. Also, I was hoping to make her night a fuck load better, but I digress.

I’m not fucking it up this time. I’m going to show her that I reflected all night long on my unacceptable behavior—I won’t mention the filthy thoughts I had of her while I showered, that would be too much information—and how I will give her the space and time to make up her own mind.

Before making my way to the main house with the smell of bacon tickling my nostrils, I detour toward the garden where I go straight for the big pink lollipop-looking flowers that dominate the whole bed. I’ve got about five in one hand when I notice some that have rounded purple petals that would go great with pink, right? But then the yellow and black ones get my attention and I think “Who doesn’t love sunflowers?” By the time I straighten up and take inventory, I’ve got a massive handful and I’m pretty sure my mother’s going to kill then bury me in this very bed so my decaying body will feed her hobby.

I say a silent prayer that my mother will forgive me for stealing her artwork. It’s for a good cause, and I’m certain that the romantic in her will preen and wink with pride.

I don’t bother to knock, I just open one of the massive doors and walk in, a proud smile plastered on my face.

“What on earth?” My mother stands in the middle of the open area kitchen staring at me, mouth agape, eyes wide.

“What?” Shit, was the bouquet too much? Too little? Too clichéd?

“Oh!” I turn to my right to see Carla coming down the stairs, a lemon yellow summer dress flowing around her knees.

My cock stirs with interest. Yeah, it’s not the place or the time or get hard, I know.

“Hey! How’d you sleep?” Without a thought, I make my way to her, dropping a chaste kiss on her temple and inhaling her soft, clean smell.

Fuck, everything about her is comforting and sexy.

“Great, like a baby.” Handing her the haphazard bouquet, I wait with bated breath for her reaction.

Who the fuck am I?

When the fuck did I turn into this sappy, lovesick puppy?

Well, not lovesick, right? We aren’t using those words. I’m lust sick and ready for spicy times.

Right?

Okay, maybe I can secretly talk about being love(ish)sick.

“Oh, Byron, they are absolutely lovely, thank you.” Point two for the home team. Or was it one after last night? Meh, I’m the only one taking score so I’m giving myself two home runs.

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