The Complete Kit Davenport Series

by Tate James

“Fuck, I think I love you.” I groaned, eyeing up the cheese-filled masterpiece. River made an odd noise, and I frowned at him. “I’m talking to the sandwich, you narcissist.”

“Oh fuck, I think I love you.” Reaching for the massive burger which had been placed in front of me, I snorted a quick laugh at the shocked expressions on the guys’ faces. “She means the burger,” River muttered. “She's pulled that line before.”

Even half-dead as she was, she managed to sound sarcastic. Such an admirable talent.

I wasn’t exactly the tidiest woman alive, so my suitcase looked a little bit like a grenade had gone off in it. A couple of times Wes had offered to unpack for me, but I’d shrugged him off. Why unpack when we might need to haul ass at a second’s notice?

All this “Are you sure?” was giving me a headache. It wasn’t like I was the kind of girl to be pressured into anything I didn’t want to do, after all.

“I flove them,” I gushed, then realized I’d mashed my words together. “I mean, I fucking love them. Thank you.”

I paused. What did I want more, coffee or sex? Ugh, why were all of life’s decisions so damn hard?

“I swear to coffee,

“Scars are the tale of the road we have traveled.” And the loves we’d lost.