And he’s hung.
The first time I meet Pick Revere I tried to bash his head in with a baseball bat. The second time, I kissed the ever-loving daylights out of him on a dare. For a girl who’s on the lam and hiding from her cop ex, I’m failing miserably at laying low. Instead, I’m going up in delicious flames–because Pick’s the hottest, roughest, toughest bad boy firefighter I’ve ever laid eyes (or lips) on. He promises he has a big hose–and knows how to use it. I’d investigate, but I need my job as a cook at the fire camp. I’m supposed to serve my hotshot breakfast–not me. I’m supposed to keep my secrets. And I’m definitely supposed to stay single.
But I’m not prepared for what happens after our kiss. Pick’s magnetic and dangerous. He’s short-term fun–not Mr. Commitment. But then he volunteers to be my muscle when my douche ex tracks me down. And I shouldn’t want more than that.
But I do.
I should run as fast as I could from Pick.
But I won’t.
Because he sets me on fire and you know what they say about firefighters–the hotter you get, the faster they come. How’s a gal to say no?