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The Widower's Two-Step (Tres Navarre #2) The Wrong Billionaire's Bed (Billionaire Boys Club #3)

Jonathan, enough. Okay?

I’m breathing hard, my chest rising and falling in large movements and yet it feels like no oxygen is reaching my lungs. Awesome. You think I can blackmail him? Show up at his work screaming, ‘Daddy’? Like Will Ferrell in Elf?Caymen, joking about it isn’t going to help either of us feel better.

Lucky Starr And The Rings Of Saturn (Lucky Starr #6)

It feels like someone is squeezing my heart in her fist. Elf is no joking matter. That movie is a classic.My mom lets out a heavy sigh. I’m here if you’d like to talk about how you’re really feeling. And I can’t stop you from seeing Xander, but if you trust my judgment or care about my opinion at all, you won’t.She doesn’t want to know how I’m really feeling. She just wants me to stop seeing Xander. Your opinion has been noted. I leave the room hoping I can breathe again soon.

Forever Us (Forever #3)

Saturday I wait outside the store. My mom and I have barely acknowledged each other all week, and I don’t want her to use this occasion as an excuse to restate her horrible opinions about Xander so I’m intercepting that possibility. I shift uncomfortably on my heels (which are actually Skye’s heels). I don’t wear heels a lot. But there are sacrifices I’m willing to make for Xander, and apparently I can add heels to the growing list . . . right after relationship with mother.He pulls up in a sleek black sports car and I bite my lip. I had been kidding about him having more than one car. Why does he have to fit some stereotypes so well and disregard the others? It’s like he’s bent on proving my mom right on the surface so she actually has to make an effort to realize she’s wrong. She’s not going to make that effort.

He steps out of the car, and my heart lets me know that it still likes Xander, a lot. He looks amazing in a suit. His hair is slicked back tonight, making him look older than he is. His skin has a healthy glow from his trip to Florida.

I missed you, he says.She stomped on the brake and he practically kissed the windshield. He was still peeling his face off the glass when she hit the gas, knocking the back of his head into the seat rest . . .

Whoops, she said and jammed both feet on the brake.Shaking his head from the whiplash, he put a hand on her arm to stop her.

The Learning Hours (How to Date a Douchebag #3)

I’m sorry, she said. Your pedals are a little touchy.Uh-huh. Try sweet-talking it into doing your bidding, he suggested. Ease it gently into following your whim. You do that and it’ll give you a helluva good ride.

Colbie slid him a look. Are you aware that sometimes the things you say sound dirty? You want me to sweet-talk what exactly into giving me a good ride—your truck or your favorite body part?He grinned. Honey, you can sweet-talk my favorite body part anytime you want. Now put one foot on the brake and then the truck back in drive.

She put her left foot on the brake pedal.Other foot, he said.

She switched to her right foot. I’ve always thought that seems dumb, she said. Why not use a foot for each pedal?Because it works out better for the engine—and my neck—if you don’t try to use both the gas and the brake at the same time.

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