Publication date: April 18th 2023
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance

Synopsis:

After witnessing heartbreak up close and personal, I never wanted a woman for more than just one night.

Yet somehow, in that single night, Brynn has me wanting another. A month. That’s the longest she’s willing to date someone and if she’ll give me the chance, I’ll take a month.

She’s determined not to become her mother. I’m determined not to care about someone enough that losing them will hurt me.

But somehow the closer I get to our month being over, the more I want to figure out a way for her to stay.

Despite each of our pasts, I know that she’s the only woman I could consider a future with. The thing is… she’s not considering one with me. I’ll have to show her that I’m not looking to take over her life before it’s too late.

Brynn so easily turns me into the man I never wanted to become.

Excerpt

When I entered the store, it was relatively small, but it was the type of place that made a name for itself by having unique jewelry. It was absolutely high-end—maybe not the highest, but not cheap at all. The counter formed a large U and there were display cases lining the walls. But that was it. No second floor. No hidden anything. There was one other customer inside talking to the salesperson, so I looked around while I waited.

“The basketball charm?” the salesperson asked her.

“Yes. I’d like it to go right here next to the handcuffs, please.”

“Absolutely. It’ll just take a moment,” he told her, then he went into the back, leaving the two of us alone.

This woman was… fuck. She was beautiful with her chestnut hair in waves past her shoulder and curves in all the right places. She wasn’t very tall. I would’ve guessed five-feet-four-inches with the shape of her body able to bring a man to his knees. Right now, I wanted to be on my knees in front of her.

She was wearing cutoff jean shorts that came to just a couple of inches under her ass and a loose tank top. It was all supposed to look low-effort, but I would’ve bet my left nut that it was all very expensive. She was wearing flat sandals to complete the look.

“That’s a lot of charms you have on your bracelet,” I told her, which made her glance up at me.

Her cornflower-blue eyes had me taking a step back. Reddish-brown hair and blue eyes might’ve been a new weakness for me.

All I knew was that I wanted to see this woman naked and hoped that was something she’d want to do. Trying to hook up with a woman could go one of two ways. She might slap you for suggesting it because she wasn’t that kind of girl or you barely had to ask because she was already thinking it. Especially since the band had hit it big, I hadn’t really had to try very hard.

“I like to think of them as souvenirs.” And yes, her voice was as sexy as the rest of her. “He’ll be right back,” she told me. “It just takes him a minute to get the charm on.”

“They don’t just clip on?” I didn’t give a fuck about the charms, to be honest.

She snorted. “Maybe if you’re twelve and your charm bracelet came out of a vending machine.” Then she shook her head. “That was kind of mean. Some do clip on. Mine doesn’t. I don’t want to lose any.”

“And they know this?”

“This is where I typically get my charms, so yes.” She glanced at the door through which the man had disappeared.

“Handcuffs?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

The corner of her mouth raised, which told me she was smiling, though she looked like she didn’t want to be. “Yup.”

“Any particular reason?”

Now she turned to me with an even bigger smile that she absolutely wasn’t trying to hide. “Yup.”

“You don’t want to tell me.”

“I don’t know you. Why would I tell you?” That was true. Why would a woman tell me personal shit when she didn’t know me?

It was weird that she didn’t recognize me.

Not to sound totally fucking full of myself, but it was rare that I needed to introduce myself these days. When I did, they pretty much always said they already knew.

Forever 18 was well-known. That wasn’t to say that every person in the world would have recognized us on sight, but it’d been a while since someone hadn’t.

“My name is Jamison.”

Her brows pinched together above her nose. “I know who you are,” she told me. “What I said was that I don’t know you. Two very different things.”

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About the Author

Heather Young-Nichols is a USA Today Bestselling author of contemporary and paranormal romances. A native of the great and often very cold state of Michigan, she is better known at home and to her friends as the Snarker-in-Chief. A job she excels at beyond anything she could have imagined. She loves many things, but especially cold coffee, hot books, and baseball. But not necessarily in that order.

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