Melrose,
The first time I met you, you were a stranger. The second time, you were my roommate. The third time, you made it clear you were about to become the biggest thorn my side had ever known.
You sing way too loud in the shower and use all the hot water.
You’re bossy as hell.
You make my life all kinds of complicated.
But no matter how hard I try, I can’t stop thinking about you.
And truthfully … I can’t stop wanting you.
I was going to tell you this. I was going to sit you down, swallow my pride, hang up my noncommittal ways and show you a side of me you nor anyone else has ever seen before … but then you dropped a game-changing bombshell; a confession so nuclear it stopped me in my tracks.
How I didn’t see this coming, I’ll never know.
Sutter
P.S. I miss you.
I really enjoyed the story of Melrose and Sutter. The author,
Winter Renshaw has been creating really fun and light stories. The heat and
banter between these two characters was enticing and made the book un-put-downable!
I dare say this is my favorite Ms. Renshaw book that I’ve read thus far! I mean,
Sutter is way more swoonable that he should be for a fictional character. He’s
a bit standoffish, and I can get it with his background and his younger
brother, but Melrose breaks down those walls. Sigh…
I couldn’t even handle their banter and humor, they had me
cracking up and completely swooning throughout the entire book. I don’t want to
go into much more. Melrose and Sutter are completely different; they mix about
as good as oil and water. I just find these types of stories so much fun.
However, there is a deeper side to the story that you will fall for. Ms.
Renshaw writes a really captivating story that is just plain fun and sweet. The
epilogue was amazing and some of my favorite parts of the book happened in
those ending pages!
I
received an ARC of this book with the hope that I would leave an Unbiased
Opinion. I was not required to leave a review, positive or otherwise, and my
opinions are just that... my opinions.
“Go away, Sutter,” she calls, voice stuffy.
I knock again.
“Go. Away,” she says.
A third knock should do it. A fourth if I must. I’m not going anywhere tonight.
Seconds later, the door swings open with a hard pull and Melrose’s frown neutralizes when she sees the drinks in my hand.
“What’s this?” she asks.
“You look like you had a rough night.” I hand hers over, but she doesn't accept it right away.
Her tired stare rests on my outstretched hand. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
“Weirding you out too, huh?”
I manage to get the smallest smile out of her. I think. It’s gone before I can be sure.
Finally taking my generous gift, Melrose raises her brows and takes a swig. “Guess not.”
“You want to talk about it?” I ask, hooking my hand behind my neck. I’m terrible at these kinds of things and I don’t like to talk for the sake of talking, but I’ve come this far.
“Is your girlfriend gone?” She ignores my question.
“Acquaintance. And yeah. I sent her home.”
“You did?” Her forehead crinkles, like she doesn’t believe it.
I nod. And I don’t believe it myself. I’ve never put sex on the back burner so I could comfort some crying chick.
“I need to let Murphy out.” Melrose scoops the wrinkly beast into her arms and treks downstairs, cutting through the living room and kitchen to get to the backyard.
I follow, stepping out to the patio and sliding the door closed behind me. Murphy trots off, disappearing somewhere in the dark yard, and Melrose takes a seat on one of the steps. The moonlight makes her shine almost, painting a glow onto her bronzed skin and silky hair.
“So … you’re okay then?” I ask, picking at the label on my bottle. It occurs to me that I still haven't thanked her for folding my shirts the other day, but this doesn't feel like the right time.
“You don’t have to do this,” she says.
“Do what?”
“Feel sorry for me,” she says, turning and glancing up. “I don’t need your pity.”
“I don’t feel sorry for you. I don’t even know what happened,” I say. “But judging by the way you were dressed when you came home … I’m thinking it had to do with some douche.”
“You were right, Sutter.” She picks at the label on her bottle. “I went out with Robert McCauley tonight.”
My chest tightens. I already know where this is going.
Wall Street Journal and #1 Amazon bestselling author Winter Renshaw is a bona fide daydream believer. She lives somewhere in the middle of the USA and can rarely be seen without her trusty Mead notebook and ultra portable laptop. When she’s not writing, she’s living the American dream with her husband, three kids, and the laziest puggle this side of the Mississippi.
And if you'd like to be the first to know when a new book is coming out, please sign up for her private mailing list here ---> http://eepurl.com/bfQU2j
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