If that's what it takes to convince Daria Woods that she isn't just the woman of my dreams—she's my destiny.
Five
Daria
Sitting on a blanket in the sand, watching the tide roll in while sharing a bottle of water and a chocolate bar, is exactly the kind of date sixteen-year-old me used to daydream about.
Back then, I imagined moonlight.
A handsome guy.
Butterflies.
Maybe one magical kiss.
I definitely didn't picture a six-foot-something biker with long dark hair, tattoo sleeves, and moss-green eyes that looked like they held tiny embers around the irises.
Or the way those eyes seemed to flash gold every now and then.
That has to be the moonlight, right?
Whatever it is, it is ridiculously sexy.
Everything about Rand Jameson is ridiculously sexy.
His deep voice.
His rough hands.
The scruff along his jaw.
The easy confidence that somehow never crosses into arrogance.
He looks dangerous.
But sitting beside me, he treats me like I’m something precious.
Like I’m someone worth being careful with.
And honestly?That’s new.Most people—okay, most men—see a plus size woman and think she can take care of herself.
And I can.
But sometimes it’s really nice to not have to.
“Cold?”
His voice breaks into my thoughts.
“Hmm?”
“You shivered.”
“Oh!”I laugh.“No.Just...thinking.”
“Dangerous pastime.”
“Is that aBeauty & the Beastreference?”
