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“In all my years of military training, how did I miss chair weaponry?”
“It’s the number one thing I am looking for in a Promenade Director. Someone skilled in chair weaponry.” She raised her chin even higher. “You’re in luck, then. I’m one of the best.”
It was the sexiest thing she had ever heard a man say. The only thing that could have made his speech and her fantasy better was if he was shirtless, holding a dessert or a book (she wasn’t too particular), with a slight breeze floating through his fluffy brown hair.
Emree took one look at the king, and her heart literally stopped. She imagined her death certificate, the lines detailing her demise reading that she had been killed by handsomeness.
The problem with warning signs was they made a person want to disobey them.
“Obstacles are necessary for success because in selling, as in all careers of importance, victory comes only after many struggles and countless defeats.”
How had he fallen for the one girl he couldn’t have?
You were just a dream girl then, but now you’re what my dreams are made of.”
“I want to marry you, Emree Dutson, for all the right reasons. Images of you consume my everyday life. You are my future, every special moment I don’t want to forget, and all my dreams coming true. You’re not just a random girl at the Morreck Inn, the Promenade Director, or a working-class woman in gray. You’re my everything, and I don’t want to live another day without you.” He held the ring out in front of her. “Please say that you’ll marry me and be my forever.”
“You better watch yourself,” she warned. “I’m trained in chair weaponry.” “Oh, I know. There’s no way I could ever forget that.”
