Steadfast (True North, #2)

by Sarina Bowen

In Vermont, we called November “stick season.”

It wasn’t rational, but a broken heart never is.

This was probably why I slid onto the passenger’s seat. My ex-con ex-boyfriend—a drug addict and convicted man-slaughterer—flashed me his happy trail and I got into his car. One wondered why my father didn’t trust me.

Kissing her wasn’t a decision I made. It was just inevitable, the way a clap of thunder follows lightning.

If she thought a good fuck was the best I had to offer her, it was hard to argue that point. Who said I didn’t know my place in the world?

See? I could have raw, angry sex with the love of my life.

a clove of garlic

“Jude, I really just need another inch.” His response came in a voice so low that I almost couldn’t hear him. “That’s not what you said the other night, baby.”

“Do you want a piece? There’s plenty.” For a second his face remained unchanged, and I panicked. I shouldn’t have come here. He’s going to ask me to leave. I am a fool. But his chin tilted upward and he smiled. I felt it like sunshine on my face. A full-on Jude smile, just for me. “Sure, baby. I’d love a piece.”

floated back down to earth slowly. Last time I’d entered Jude’s room, I’d told him, “It’s just sex.” What a crock of crap. He was everything to me.

It was pride that changed angels into devils; it is humility that makes men as angels.’”