Since when did the procedure for giving someone a ticket for running a stop sign include a very hands-on pat-down against the hood of my car, not even giving me a chance to see his face? I swear, cop or not he was getting very close to getting Tasered; my hand was mere inches from the Taser in my open purse. But despite the high inappropriateness of his pat-down there was something very familiar about the way he was touching me and even the scent of his cologne triggered familiarity.
I never dreamed when the inappropriate, yet highly erotic frisking was over that I be standing face to face with my former high school sweetheart, town troublemaker and love of my life Devon Land. But there he was with a cocky smirk, looking sexier than I remembered and thoroughly enjoying my shock.
One big mistake cost me the upscale life in New York I'd grown to love, forcing me to return home to Alabama. I swore I'd never move back to my small town, I'd outgrown it, but with a temptation like Devon intent on reminding me of the life I'd left behind can I leave a second time?
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Hot second chance romance!