I've got a thing for men who work with their hands. I thought I learned my lesson years ago. But here I am, back in the small town I grew up in, staring down the man who broke my heart years ago. I intended to tell him off. My plan was to flip him the bird and prove to both of us that he hadn't ruined me. I sure as hell wasn't going to sleep with him. Until he tells me he's sorry. Until he gives me that smoldering look I still dream about. Until he whispers just beneath the shell of my ear... His breath trails down my neck and he leaves an opened mouth kiss right there, in that sensitive spot. "You have no idea how much I've missed you." My treacherous heart wants more. More of him. More of us. But there's a reason it didn't work before and when you don't learn from your past mistakes, you're bound to repeat them.
