“Yes. Cat wanted Tempest to come home. She thought my wife’s writing creativity would get a boost if she met Tempest. Cat had other reasons for choosing her for pen pal status, but that’s the main idea. So don’t tell me the internet doesn’t work. It’s what brought her all the way from Italy.”
“Doesn’t matter. She’ll go to her gig when she’s ready. In the meantime, she doesn’t look like she’s suffering, does she?” Shaman asked, crossing his arms. “I mean, if you’re trying to infer that she can do better than me, I’ll be the first to admit I’m no prince, bro.”
Gage shook his head. There probably would have been more discussion of the wonders of the woman who seemed to want nothing more than nights in Shaman’s arms, but two walls collapsed on the barn, and workers started yelling and running around, ending the debate.
Thankfully. Because if he heard any more about what a goddess she was, he was going to have to tell her to take her picnic basket and hit the road. Shaman knew that, like the beast in the fairy tale, you should just appreciate the pretty things in life—while in the back of your mind you heard your mother saying, “Don’t touch anything in the store! You might break it.” You heard your father say, “A woman only wants a man with money and power.”
One day it’ll be over.
Right now, I just try to make her happy.
ISBN: 9781459241954
Copyright © 2012 by Shelley Sabga
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