I've been called annoyingly optimistic four hundred and twelve times. I count because it amuses me.
Then he moves in next door — six-foot-two of silence, scars, and the deadest eyes I've ever seen on a living person. Dominic Sable doesn't want my cucumber water. He doesn't want my conversation. He doesn't want the shared schedule I color-coded with stickers.
He doesn't want to need anyone.
But I know the road he's on. My brother walked it. I've held the flashlight in that kind of darkness before.
Dominic thinks he's past saving. I'm not trying to save him. I'm just refusing to leave.
The problem is, someone dangerous has noticed us both. And the man who forgot how to feel is about to remember what it means to protect the one person who taught him to breathe again.
Every war ends somewhere. Ours ends on a Thursday.
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Then he moves in next door — six-foot-two of silence, scars, and the deadest eyes I've ever seen on a living person. Dominic Sable doesn't want my cucumber water. He doesn't want my conversation. He doesn't want the shared schedule I color-coded with stickers.
He doesn't want to need anyone.
But I know the road he's on. My brother walked it. I've held the flashlight in that kind of darkness before.
Dominic thinks he's past saving. I'm not trying to save him. I'm just refusing to leave.
The problem is, someone dangerous has noticed us both. And the man who forgot how to feel is about to remember what it means to protect the one person who taught him to breathe again.
Every war ends somewhere. Ours ends on a Thursday.
Genre: Romantic Suspense