“I was snagged around the midriff and thrown back to the bed, my head hitting the pillows, and Vance Crowe rolled his body over mine. I stilled and looked up into his dark, lushy-lashed eyes.
“Oh my God,” I breathed.
“Mornin’,” he said to me, like we woke up next to each other every day.
“Oh my God,” I breathed again.
His hair was not in a ponytail but falling down around his face and shoulders and, I kid you not, he looked like a Native American Warrior God.
“Do I have your attention?” he asked.”