Rosie and the Dreamboat (The Improbable Meet-Cute, #3)

by Sally Thorne

“She really left?” “Your heartless sister’s gone, Miss Rosie Clamshell. It’s you and me now, kid. Frank is just our third wheel.” “Shuck me out of this thing. I’m begging you.” His helpless, barking belly laugh is an absolute dopamine hit. “Are we shuck buddies? My God, Frank, whoever is in this fancy water coffin is cracking me up.”

Frank booms in his big voice, “We call him Romeo because he’s a dreamy fucking dreamboat.” “Yeah, yeah, fuck right off, Frank, you day-old hot dog. But he’s right, Rosie. I’m a dreamboat. Picture it in your mind, how dreamy I am.”

“May I have his full name and date of birth?” Leo asks sweetly. “Social security, too, if possible? I need to commit a murder, please.”

“Mr. Husband,” Bree says to him with supreme satisfaction, “I can’t tell you how long we’ve been waiting for you to show up.”