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It was me—my fault. I was the problem.
Hello, Anti-hero? Sydney Ward, here. Hold my beer.
And old people, well, they just… up and die… and it’s terribly inconvenient.”
It was logical to avoid things that caused uncontrollable and potentially hazardous reactions. I already had a list of those. Shellfish. Cocaine. Explosives. And now, Sydney Ward.
Baby Brains.”
Sure, the internet had the power to turn “dad bods” into a thing, but had I missed the memo on sweater-vests? Was that a super sexy secret weapon I hadn’t been aware of?
Nuclear fission seemed less powerful than the way being around her made each and every one of my cells come apart.
Someone should call Shania and let her know that Ranger Reynolds was ready and waiting to impress her much.
Achilles had his heel. Samson had his hair. Superman had kryptonite. And I… I had Sydney.
The only reason had to be that I was addicted to the sight of her sucking my cock, and I wanted to make sure I had a damn good memory of that before this night ended.
“You know why, Syd. You write romance, for Pete’s sake. People don’t want reality. They want fantasy. They want broody Jason Momoa with an eight-inch pierced dick, intimacy issues, and a heart of gold.”
“There are no experts on loving, Ranger. Just people brave enough to try.”
Sydney was like my own personal Rosetta Stone. She was both a question and the answer. The unknown and the tree of knowledge. A relative stranger… and my wife.
“You’re not here for anyone, and certainly not my wife,”
Compliments hit differently when the man giving them made them sound like fact rather than flattery. Like the sky is blue. The earth is round. And you are beautiful. Fact.
“It hasn’t been long. You hardly know me.” It wasn’t my words I was saying. They were everyone else’s doubts that crashed over me like waves. “According to Einstein, time is relative—a measurement affected by gravity. And in the eleven weeks, six days, nineteen hours and thirty-six minutes since I met you, I’ve never fallen so hard, yet my feet haven’t left the ground. The only conclusion is that gravity has changed because you’re around, and therefore time has, too.”
“Having a life I can’t forget isn’t the same as having a life worth remembering. And the only life worth remembering, Sydney, is the one that has you in it. You’re my snow angel, the part of all of this worth savoring… you’re my magic.” His warm breath fused to my lips. “Say you’ll stay tonight… and the rest of your life?”
