The One I Want For Life


Everyone makes mistakes. I know that. Some big. Some not so. Mine just happened to be colossal. Even though in the end it’s turned out to be a good thing. At least I think it will be. I’ve got a few months before I find out. I just wish the timing was better. Moving halfway across the country… Opening my own business… And now there’s Jace Morgan. Thing is, I have to make this new life happen on my own. I can’t rely on anyone else. See: colossal mistake. So why does everything seem so much easier when he’s around?


I like working with my hands. I like being my own boss. I like small town life. Strangely, it suits. What I don’t like is waking up every morning and thinking about Eden Karr. She makes me smile. She makes me laugh. I’d pretty much given up on doing either ever again. I get that life’s not supposed to be fair. Or easy. But I thought I had my act together, and now all I can think about is getting close to her. Except when I’m thinking about getting away from her for good.

“The slow burn had enough tender moments to warrant the tissue box and enough sexual tension and spark to bring out the fan.” – Amazon reviewer

Jace licked cinnamon glaze from his fingers, braced his palms on a chair back and bent at an angle that gave Eden a clear, close view of his back. Her fingers trembled for no good reason. At least none she allowed herself to consider.

Skimming the buckskin with a light touch, she tested the strength of the seam’s worn edges. Heat from Jace’s skin breathed over her hands, a seductive invitation to slip her fingers inside the shirt.

She closed her eyes. The scent of leather and man seeped into her loneliness. Then Benjamin kicked, reminding her not to be stupid again and she backed a step away. “Fabric looks tough enough. I think the thread just gave up the ghost.”

Jace glanced back. “So, can you fix it?”



“Now?” she repeated.

He nodded. “The bed of my truck’s loaded. I need to get over to Farmersville before it rains.” The sunlight shining through her kitchen window dimmed on cue.

“I don’t think I have time to drive home and change.” When she only stared, he went on to say, “I can go like this if you don’t have time.”

Eden shook off her trance. How bad could it actually be to have Jace undress in her house? She’d seen him shirtless just last week. Then they’d been outdoors, with acres of breathing room. Now they were in her house. Alone. With gloomy skies increasing the intimacy.

“I have time,” she assured him, then held out her hand and held her breath. He slipped out of the shirt and, before she allowed herself more than the briefest glimpse of male belly dusted with black hair, she headed for her workroom.

His moccasins whispered over the hardwood floor behind her, the sound a gentle coaxing of her senses, a sweet song to her ears. She felt his presence like a wildness inside her. His shirt grew warm in her hands.

Shoving back the curtained partition, she tossed the shirt on her sewing table, gestured for Jace to sit in the rattan side chair and headed for the cherry cupboard in the corner.

The top drawer held hundreds of spools of thread and, in her state of klutz and nerves and hormonal melancholy, she nearly toppled the contents to the floor.

Especially when she sensed Jace move to the window behind her. Eyes closed, she took a small backwards step his direction, close enough to indulge herself in the warmth of his bare skin, the scent of naked man and the subtle need to be near another human being.

It was crazy, this weakness shifting through her. Crazy. Insane. A gut awareness she hadn’t counted on. She’d never expected to come up against a man who’d make her want this way again.

Be honest, Eden. A man who makes you want in a way you’ve never wanted before.