That marriage pact I made with my grumpy, off-limits best friend. That was totally a joke…Right?
It was a heat-of-the-moment agreement scribbled onto the back of a crinkled gas station receipt nine years ago.
“If neither of us are married by age 30, we’ll marry each other.”
Haha! So funny!
Cash moved to a city 500 miles away. Building his billion-dollar empire. Making a name for himself.
Me? I stayed in our gossipy hometown. Working a simple job. Living a simple life.
And we never discussed the marriage pact again.
But I just turned the big three-oh.
And Cash showed up at my door, in the middle of a freaking rainstorm.
Tall, muscled and soaking wet.
With a birthday cake in his hand and a daring smirk that says he means business.
Holy plot twist! Didn’t see that coming!
Now the small town rumor mill is in overdrive.
Cash is dissolving my defences with those sexy half-smiles he saves just for me.
And my brain is exploding with what ifs…
What if we give this a shot?
What if we’re crazy enough to try?
What if we’re good together?
We’ve always been ‘just friends’. We’re experts at playing it safe.
But his skin on my skin leaves me reeling. His oh-so-fiery kisses melt my excuses.
I know our decade-plus friendship is on the line. But I’m aching to see Cash’s wild side.