Your language, dear," Victoria reproved gently. "A lady never curses in public. There are much better ways to handle the delicate male ego." Keiley paused. "With a two-by-four?" she asked. Victoria's lips pursed a smile tugged at her lips. "Only as a last resort," she murmured humorously. "And never in public.

Her head throbbed as though gremlins were ripping holes in her brain

He was tall, one of the tallest men she had ever seen. Dressed in jeans, boots and a cotton shirt. Thick black hair grew rakishly long, falling over the collar of his shirt. Intense brown eyes, almost the color of amber, surveyed the diner slowly before coming back to her. Electricity sizzled in the air then, as though invisible currents connected them, forcing her to recognize him on a primitive level. Not that she wouldn’t take notice anyway. He was power, strength, and so incredibly male that her breath caught at the sight of him.

Every good girl loved a bad boy. It was a fact of life, a quirk of nature. Opposites attract, and the badder the boy, the more attractive he was to that good girl who couldn't help but be drawn to him.

There are much better ways to handle the delicate male ego. With a two-by-four? Only as a last resort and never in public.

It's easier to ask forgiveness than to beg for permission.

You are a light that will always guide me, a whisper I'll always strain to hear.