Angol
We've been dancing around each other for years. It's not a dance I'm proud of. The day we met, I fell out of my chair. Now, we're stuck in this repeating pattern: she corners me, I freeze then I bolt. I'm 33 years old and I should be able to handle a woman better than this.
But she's not just any woman. She's tough, smart, and her curves make my legs numb.
Oh yeah, she's also my employee.
But when I finally work up the nerve to talk to her, I stick my foot in my mouth. Then that night, when her world is touched by violence, I firmly lodge my foot all the way into my throat.
Now I'll do anything to fix what I've broken. I'm working to contain the aftermath of that night, and I have a plan to woo her (yes, I said woo). And my plan was working. Slowly, steadily, she was coming to me.
Then my brothers decided to 'help' us along and now we're stranded at a tiny motel in the middle of nowhere, in a snowstorm.
And there's only one bed.
When we get out of here, I'm going to murder my brothers. Then I'm going to make damn sure the threats against her are handled. Because even though I'm a computer geek, I am more than capable of being the man she needs.
I just hope I don't run out of time before I can show her.
