Where Bad Boys are Ruined (Good Girls, #3)

by Holly Renee

blinked as I turned in a slow circle before looking up at her. The walls were a crisp white and the floor

Very cute & funny romance. “Six months. That’s how long it had been since Charlie stopped being stubborn. If you heard her tell the story, she would say that was the moment I quit being annoying”. 8 stars 3-25-20

“What are you going to do about it?” My voice sounded breathless and I could think of about a million things I wished he would do. But watching him stick his hand into my bag of flour before pulling it out with a pile of flour gently pouring between his fingers was not one of them. “Don’t you dare.” I pointed a finger at him as I attempted to move even further away. “Say I’m not preppy.” He took another step toward me and a trail of flour followed him. “I never said that you were to begin with.” I held my hands out in front of me as I laughed.

“Semantics.” “Take it back.” He used his opposite hand to pinch a small amount of flour out of his hand. “You are not going to…” Before I could get the rest of my sentence out, he flicked his fingers out and puffs of white flour covered my face. “Oh my God,” I screamed and scurried around the island to get farther away from him. “There aren’t many places for you to run to, Freckles. Now take it back.” His grin was taking over his face, and I swear he had never looked so handsome. There wasn’t a moment when I was around Brandon where I didn’t think he was hot as hell, but it had always been in the bad

boy, pure dirty sex kind of way. The Brandon standing in front of me with a handful of my cake flour looked like someone else entirely. He was somehow more attractive than ever before. It made me even more nervous. Brandon was dangerous. He was the kind of guy who ruined girls like me. I had to keep my wits about me when I was near him. One little slip-up and I wouldn’t recover. “Okay. Okay.” I held my hands up in surrender as I took a step back toward the cou...

“Dirty?” That grin went right back into place. “Well, I’ll take that as a—” Before he could finish his sentence, I flung the bag in his direction and puffs of powdered sugar filled the room. I managed to cover him from head to toe while also covering myself, but I didn’t care. The look on his face was worth all the hours it would take for me to clean it.

As his mouth moved closer to mine, I took a deep breath before I picked up the cupcake I had just finished making moments before he arrived and I shoved it, icing side first, right in his face.

Six months. That’s how long it had been since Charlie stopped being stubborn. If you heard her tell the story, she would say that was the moment I quit being an asshole. But she usually called me an asshole at least once a week, so her point was moot.