He's Not My Type (The Vancouver Agitators, #4)

by Meghan Quinn

She turns toward me, her eyes connecting with mine, and fucking hand to heart, I feel this jolt of possession rock through me so fucking hard that I have to catch my breath. I can’t tell you the last time I felt something like this.

“Are you his landlord?” Blakely teases. “More like his hairy godmother.” Posey makes himself laugh . . . and only himself.