He Loves Me Not (Cambric Creek, #5)

by C.M. Nascosta

“And Cal relies on Rourke,” Grace added. “He’s a parts supplier, keeps all the machinery running.”

You know you’ll get a ton of money for it, and I would really hold Jack’s head to the fire on that.

“I really don’t think I want to trust these fucking werewolves with any other part of my life.”

“I mean, I get that, but making money is the one thing he’s actually good at. Look at this town. Let him ensure you never need to work again. “

This was a financial decision. Can’t keep propping up failing businesses.

We should all get a do-over after we’re thirty.

Maybe you just need to fuck this out of your systems!“

I’ll bet once she gets the double dick down, she won’t even care about having a shop anymore.

am begging you to see a doctor. That mothman has scrambled your brain.”

Whoever she is, get fucked, lady.

Ranar knew exactly what she meant by upstairs. “I talked with him as soon as the signs went up. He’s sympathetic, but what’s done is done.”

“Can’t pay your mortgage with Jack’s sympathy.”

Magruh was the longtime chief of the Cambric Creek fire department, the same department where another one of Jack Hemmings’s sons worked.

So you keep the window open and stick your head out like a werewolf. And if anyone asks what you’re doing, tell them you’re just trying to channel your inner Hemming. See what Jack says about that.

Call that guy from the planning commission, his name was Owen. He liked shooting orders, see what he’s doing this morning. It smells like a dead body outside my door, and it’s affecting my business!”

didn’t matter how much Jack Hemming assured him he could get for the land

She was going to make that snake love her if it was the very last thing she ever did. And live happily ever after.

Need their hands held a little.

“Girlypop, this is so much deeper than ‘I only want to be his friend.’ You actually like him.

Gods, everyone in this town needs their hands held for every little fucking thing, I swear. Just fuck him and get out of the way!

“He’s so babygirl. Look, I’m trying.

as if she were a 23-year-old aesthetician with a trust fund, practicing professional mindfulness.

amends. You’re going to butter up his kid. Make him forgive you. Swallow his cock and suck his soul out. And then marry him. In that order.

Maybe when you’re her stepmom, she can work at Pink Blossom. She’ll fit right in with the aesthetic. Her dad can make us pancakes for breakfast after he’s fucked me within an inch of my life, and we’ll go to work while he makes chili. And then later we’ll all do something together, like a real family.

I’m going to lick every inch of your body and find out what sort of noises you make.

And that’s what you want people to see. You

It would be different if your ex was dead.”

Everyone loves a widower! Widowers are hot,

introduced her to Sandi Hemming, who had also apparently understood the dress code. He watched as she and the werewolf leaned in, air kissing on each cheek, the whole floofy, floral group laughing together at something that was said.

Her boyfriend is a mothman, he works over at the University.

He really is so babygirl.

So babygirl.

And then he would s her about her door again.

of he liked and how he responded.

This isn’t being prompted by the hot dp action, by the way, I was going to invite you anyway.

This is how billionaire sociopaths probably start. This time in ten years, you can have your own rocketship.