Fixing Her, an all-new friends to lovers romance from debut author Miranda Elaine is available NOW!
When we were younger, Temperance Price was the quiet girl with dreamy eyes who hung on my every word. She was always beautiful, but I had plans to get out of Red Oak and make a life of my own.
Ten years later, a crushing tragedy has brought me home again—right back to her.
The innocent girl I left is gone, and in her place is a sassy single mom I can’t get out of my head. She’s hired me to fix her house, but I have other things in mind.
She thinks I’m just a handyman.
She thinks we’re only friends.
She thinks I’ve never noticed her.
I think what really needs to be fixed is her whole perspective.
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I’m nervous but excited. My gut says to run away, but the glass of wine I just finished off is telling me this is an excellent idea. Feeling brave, I hold the phone out at arm’s reach and take a selfie of me sitting on top of my unmade bed.
Times like these make me glad I’m not great about washing the small amount of makeup I wear off before bed. Typically, I just use a baby wipe right before I fall asleep to wipe off whatever bit of mascara survived the day.
Today’s makeup, though light, is still present. I’m spread across the bed in my tiny black shorts and my favorite red tank top with a shelf bra built in. Before logic can make its way into my brain I hit send.
I review the picture and instantly regret fills my stomach. I felt so brave thirty seconds ago. But staring at it now, I see the small rolls of my stomach, and my chest needs more support than the tank itself can provide. Those are not perky twenty-year-old breasts. Those are the breasts of a woman who’s edging toward thirty and has had a baby. I’m ashamed of the dark circles under my eyes.
Why did I send that pic?
My heart sinks. He probably sees all my flaws, too. In a dimly lit house they might not have been noticeable in passing. But on a phone screen, where you can zoom in they’re just there for the seeing.
Asher: Wow. That’s an incredible sight.
I’m unable to conjure a complete thought, nothing sexy, witty, or interesting. I’m frozen, knowing he’s staring at a photo of me, in awe.
Asher: Ok, my turn.
I’m not in any way prepared for what he sends. I’ve seen him shirtless. Hell, I can’t believe I’ve seen him nearly naked in person, felt him in the palm of my hand. And still, I’m in shock at the sight of him stretched out on his bed in just a pair of thin gray sweats, his hand on top wrapped around the outline of his long, thick cock.
I stare for too long at that hand holding that cock firmly. I almost don’t even notice the smirk on his face. He knows how attracted I am to him. Just being around him makes me weak, and by the look on his face I’m guessing he knows how turned on this sight is making me.
My resolve weakens. It’s not even just his hard body or amazing face. It’s the patience he’s shown my daughter. It’s his willingness to spend his time and skills to help me. It’s how he came home to relieve his parents of the stress and pressure of losing a son and attempting to run a business. It’s everything I don’t deserve to hold so close to my heart.
He’s a remarkable man. A man that in a different life, at a different time, I would fight tooth and nail to make mine.
Asher: You still there? You’re starting to hurt my ego.
Me: Yeah. 🙂 Just setting your profile pic on my phone.
Asher: Better make sure it stays locked then.
Me: No worries. I cropped it a tad.
Asher: Just a tad?
I giggle. There ain’t nothing tad-like about that cock.
Me: Well . . . maybe more than a tad. 😉
Miranda is a loving wife and barely surviving mother of three occasionally good kids. Her hobbies include lying to herself about the calories in donuts and banana pudding, as well as running out of excuses when procrastinating. She’s been an avid reader since she was a young girl. Whether she’s by the pool, curled up in bed, or hiding in the closet, as long as she has a book in her hands she’s happy.
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