Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 88992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
The one time I choose to be unpredictable, I find myself practically naked in a dark cabin on a ranch, face-to-face with a smirking man barely wearing a towel.
Despite his chiseled body and a wicked smile that makes following the rules feel optional, nothing happens. Why? Because I, Audrey Van, don’t know how to have fun.
I came to my friend’s cabin with my whimsy list in hand, determined to fix that. I’ve earned my doctorate and built a career with zero parking tickets and even fewer hangovers. I’ve been so good … and so boring.
This isn’t who I want to be anymore.
Brooks Dempsey is the last person who should be helping me find myself. The ridiculously hot mixed martial artist—and my brother’s nemesis—is a walking bad decision gift wrapped in broad shoulders and trouble. But who better to teach me how to flirt, defend myself, and explore other things than the man who does it best?
Soon, I want more. Not just from life, but from him.
But this recklessly electrifying thing between us was never meant to last. The bad boy never settles with the good girl, and a girl like me should know better. So, when life throws us into the ring, gloves on, will we fight together? Or will one of us throw in the towel?
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
PLAYLIST
Playlist
“Am I Okay?” By Megan Moroney
“I Wanna Be Bad” by Willa Ford
“Before You” by Bailey Zimmerman
“Chasin’ You” by Morgan Wallen
“You Should Probably Leave” by Chris Stapleton
“All The Way” by BigXthaPlug ft Bailey Zimmerman
“What’s Your Fantasy” by Ludacris and Shawnna
For the full playlist, go here.
CHAPTER
ONE
Audrey
“Oh, rats.”
“What’s wrong?” Astrid asks, her voice barely audible through the speakers. Sleet pounds the windshield so fast and hard that my wipers can’t keep up. “Do you see the driveway?”
I lean forward, squinting through the blowing snowflakes assaulting my Jeep and into the thin strip of visibility created by my headlights. This situation has all the hallmarks of a horror movie—specifically the scene that’s so ridiculous the viewer shakes their head and thinks, “Who really puts themselves in that predicament?”
Answer? Me, apparently.
My knuckles turn white from gripping the steering wheel. “I think I missed it. Everything is just so … dark.”
“Keep going,” Astrid says. “Unless you drive into the creek, you can’t go too far.”
My foot lifts off the accelerator. “Now is a fabulous time for you to mention that I could drive headfirst into a body of water.”
“There’s a ramp. You’ll notice and have time to stop.”
Great.
A knot tightens in my belly, reminding me that it’s not too late. I can still turn around and go home, where it’s dry, bright, and familiar. I’ve considered this more than a hundred times since I decided this afternoon, for the first time in my life, to say to heck with it all and be spontaneous. I left a whole day early and made the hour-and-a-half-long trek to Sugar Creek tonight.
In the dark.
During a winter storm.
The reevaluation of my decision is to be expected, and not just because of the weather. Impulsive, fun adventures aren’t Audrey Van coded at all. Overthinking and staying in my comfort zone? That’s where I’ve lived the past twenty-seven years, and it’s also why I push the accelerator again … carefully, of course.
“Hey,” I say, somehow managing to sit even taller in my seat. “I think that’s it! There’s a fence with a bird sculpture thingy on it.”
“Yes. Take a left there, and you’ve made it.”
Thank God. My shoulders drop in relief as I pilot the car from the gravel road onto the driveway.
“Service can be spotty out there,” Astrid warns for the third time today. “If our call drops, that’s why. Once you get inside the cabin, it should work just fine. If not, text Hartley. Texts usually work even if calls drop, and he’ll come over and get you all fixed up.”
I smile. “Sounds good.”
Hartley Adler, Astrid’s boyfriend’s brother and the owner of Blackbird Ranch, is an absolute sweetheart. We’ve met a few times over the past year, and every time, I walk away thinking he’s amazing. He’s kind and smart—a real salt-of-the-earth kind of guy.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” I say. “Did you remember to tell him that I’m coming tonight and not tomorrow like we originally planned?”
“Gray left him a message. A fence line went down in the storm this afternoon, so Hartley and some of the guys were out there trying to get it fixed.”
I balk. “He’s out there in this?”
She laughs. “That’s life on the ranch, Auddie. It doesn’t stop for anything, least of all the weather.”
The sleet turns into tiny balls of ice, flinging themselves against the windshield. I whisper a prayer of gratitude as I roll to a stop in front of Astrid and Gray’s cabin. Just in time.
“I’m officially here and parked,” I say, surveying as much of my surroundings as possible. I’ve been to the cabin once since Astrid moved to the ranch for the rugby offseason with Gray. But it was a quick afternoon trip with our friend Gianna, and unfortunately for me, everything looks different at eight o’clock at night in January.
“Finally.” She sighs heavily. “I can relax now.”
“You and me both.” I lean forward, noticing a glow from inside the house. “Hey, there’s a light on. Is that normal?”
“Yeah. I always leave a small lamp on in the kitchen, and Gray hasn’t turned a light off in his life. It gets so dark that you’ll break your neck trying to get a drink in the middle of the night. Ask me how I know.”
I smile. “Okay. Just wanted to make sure I wasn’t walking into a robbery or something.”
“Out there?” She laughs. “I hate to say never, but that’s never going to happen. The only way to the cabin requires you to pass Hartley’s house, and he doesn’t miss much.”
Except for when he’s not there … like tonight.
My instincts grow louder, warning me to reassess the potential for danger. Run. Flee. Save yourself, Audrey! But instead of listening to my gut, I take a breath and shove the logic out of my brain. It’s counterintuitive, and it feels irresponsible, but you have to crack some eggs to make an omelet. And I’m here to whip up something delicious.