“What’s happening, Tate?” she asks. “I don’t know. I met this woman on the plane.” Carys grins. “She’s the whole package. She’s beautiful. Sexy. Funny. She has this …” It’s more than her sinful body and sweet smile. It’s not just her laugh that I can still hear ringing in my ears. I wanted to pull her onto my lap when she touched me. It’s the crazy mix of confidence in her language and vulnerability in her eyes that has me unable to stop thinking about her. And I don’t know how to explain that without freaking Carys out. If I said that to her, she’d probably call an ambulance.
