by Bromberg, K.
I wait for the comment I can see forming on his lips to come but just as unexpected as this conversation has been, he breaks our eye contact without saying another word and refocuses on the glass in his hand.
“So you’re the one, huh?” My thoughts turn to words before I realize what I’m saying and disbelief robs me from saying anything else as Tanner turns to look at me again, glass stopped midway to his lips, and that way he has of staring straight into you and seeing every single thing you want to hide.
“The one?”
And without any pertinent words being exchanged or even so much as an introduction being made, I know without a doubt that Tanner Thomas is the one person who’s going to make me question crossing that damn line. Call it a gut reaction or a psychotic episode, but I have a feeling that this mission is going to be anything but the easy get in, get out, get done type that I had planned on it being.
And it will have nothing to do with the mission but rather everything to do with the attractive man before me and his inquisitive eyes.
Once I process the thought, try to laugh it off, and ferret it away to worry about and obsess over later, I scramble to answer his question hanging heavy in the air between us. Make the comment relevant somehow, some way.
“Yep, the one that every reporter in this room hates and wants to be all at the same time,” I explain, speaking nothing but the truth I’ve come to learn while waiting for him to arrive.
Skepticism causes him to narrow his eyes and amusement has him pursing his lips as he tries to figure out if he believes me or not. I’m not sure if he does or not because he breaks our stare and motions to the bartender for a bottle of whiskey. The exchange of money for the bottle happens quickly. Tanner scoots his chair back, grabs the neck of the fifth of alcohol and gives me a half-cocked, arrogant smirk.
“Yep, I’m the one.” He turns his back to me and strides away.
Cocky son of a bitch. And he most definitely is, yet I still watch him leave the bar, lifting the bottle up to the protests of the other journalists gathered to welcome him back.
And even when he’s cleared the doorway and I can no longer see him, I’m still watching. There’s just something about him when I most definitely don’t want there to be.
He’s the one all right.
Hopefully he’s the one I can avoid.
New York Times Bestselling author K. Bromberg writes contemporary romance novels that contain a mixture of sweet, emotional, a whole lot of sexy, and a little bit of real. She likes to write strong heroines and damaged heroes who we love to hate but can’t help to love.
A mom of three, she plots her novels in between school runs and soccer practices, more often than not with her laptop in tow and her mind scattered in too many different directions.
Since publishing her first book on a whim in 2013, Kristy has sold over one and a half million copies of her books across eighteen different countries and has landed on the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestsellers lists over thirty times. Her Driven trilogy (Driven, Fueled, and Crashed) is currently being adapted for film by the streaming platform, Passionflix, with the first movie (Driven) out now.
With her imagination always in overdrive, she is currently scheming, plotting, and swooning over her latest hero. You can find out more about him or chat with Kristy on any of her social media accounts. The easiest way to stay up to date on new releases and upcoming novels is to sign up for her newsletter or follow her on Bookbub.