Wildfire (Maple Hills, #2)

by Hannah Grace

However, there’s something decidedly unintimidating about him. His biceps are fighting to escape the sleeves of his black T-shirt, the fabric tight across his broad chest.

This is the longest conversation I’ve ever had about glasses. It’s possibly the longest conversation anyone has had about glasses, but I find myself thinking about what other kitchenware I can bring up to keep this going.

“You don’t strike me as the type of woman who would pay attention to a sign anyway.”