All Folked Up (Good Folk: Modern Folktales, #3)

by Penny Reid

Isaac lifted a hand and cradled my jaw, slid his long, calloused fingers into the hair behind my ear. His palm was warm, the pads of his fingers textured, and he smelled fantastic. I couldn’t have stopped the small sigh that escaped my lips if I’d had ten years to prepare for this moment. One side of his mouth tugged upward again as his eyes glittered down at me. “You should touch me,” he said, using that soft, low voice of his. “And get used to me touching you.”

“Okay, okay. Truce. Truce!” Facing the corner, I lifted my hands in the universal sign for surrender. Isaac immediately slid his arms around my waist and lowered his chin to my shoulder, turning his head to whisper in my ear, “I really like your laugh,” like it was a secret.

“Don’t set yourself on fire trying to keep others warm.” ― Duane Winston, Beard in Mind by Penny Reid

my black Ford Charger

“You know I’m not opposed to blackmail, dearest. Not at all. I’m just pointing out that any future progeny will inherit it from both sides of our family trees. Two dominant extortion genes. I couldn’t be happier.”