I’m a total mess. My boyfriend dumped me – get this – because I diet too much. Not because I’m fat, mind you. Of course, this spurs me into the diet-fitness-revenge-plan of the century, which leads me to the gym and a scorching hot personal trainer. I even manage to make some cool new friends, including a millionaire if you can believe it. Things are looking up! Naturally, that’s the moment my ex decides he wants me back, the personal trainer asks me out, and my millionaire male buddy decides to throw his hat in the ring. But that’s not enough drama. No, not for me. Because I’ve also lost my job and decided to start my own business. Just call me Ms. Drama.
Warning: Bad language, bumpy roads, and embarrassing moments ahead. But there’s also more than a bit of romance and even, if we’re lucky, love. Fingers crossed.
Not endorsed by or affiliated with any brand of tequila.
“Am I dressed okay for whatever we’re going to do?”
Carter chuckles. “You look beautiful as usual.” He reaches over and pinches my chin. “You’re going to have to wait a little longer to find out what we’re doing today.”
I stick out my lower lip, and Carter bursts into laughter. He’s wearing another Star Wars t-shirt. This one with the words Who’s Your Daddy printed under a picture of Darth Vader. He looks like a twenty-year-old college student instead of a millionaire business owner.
“How old are?” I blurt out.
He sobers immediately. “Does it matter?”
“Since I’m not a MILF and would be labeled a cradle robber, yeah, it matters.”
Carter grabs my coffee and places it on the little table in the entryway before crowding me. I move backwards until I hit the wall. He places his hands next to my head, totally enclosing me. “Who says you’re not a MILF?” His lips are on mine before I can respond. His tongue demands entrance and who am I to deny him? I grasp his t-shirt between my fists and pull him even closer. One of his hands grabs my ponytail while the other one travels down my back until he reaches the top of my ass and he pulls me flush against his hard body.
“Not a MILF, my ass.” He slowly releases me, and I collapse against the wall trying to catch my breath. “I’m thirty-three. Old enough for you?” He wiggles his eyebrows at me. “Come on, let’s go.” He grabs my hand with one hand and my coffee with the other before pulling me out of the hallway.
I’m buckled up in his fancy schamncy sports car before I manage to catch my breath. I take sips of my coffee to calm myself down because that kiss… Well, let’s just say the boy can kiss. “I’m technically not a MILF because I’m not a mother.”
Carter chuckles. “Beautiful and cute.”