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“Yeah,” I grunt, leaning forward slightly. “Get the fuck outta here and don’t fucking come back,” I growl, just loud enough for only him to hear. I don’t need to make a scene, but I will if necessary.

He opens his mouth, then closes it again. Unfolding my arms, I reach for my cut and open it slightly, showing him the gun in my shoulder holster. I don’t look away from his face. I watch as his eyes flick to the gun, then come back up to meet my own. I need him to know just how goddamn serious I fucking am.

He dips his chin in a single nod, then he takes a step toward me. I ready myself, bracing for whatever he’s about to say or maybe even try to do. But he doesn’t do anything. He stops when he’s right at my ear and murmurs just loud enough for me to hear.

“You can have her. Good fuckin’ luck. She’s a fucking prude,” he spits out.

He moves past me, and then I hear the door to the bar open and close. But I don’t bother looking back to watch him. I couldn’t, even if I tried. Because a little blond-haired pixie has my full and complete focus and attention.

Every muscle in my body tightens at the sight of her. She’s fucking gorgeous. Absolutely stunning, wrapped up in a tiny little pint-sized package with blond hair, light-brown eyes, full pink lips, and the cutest fucking nose I’ve ever seen.

She tilts her head back, her big light-brown eyes meet mine, and she gives me a smile. My tight body melts at the sight, and I have no idea what the fuck I’m feeling, but I want more.

“Thanks,” she exhales.

“Thanks?” I ask.

“You got rid of him. Blind date from hell.”

My brows rise in surprise. I can’t believe that was a first fucking date. What a goddamn asshole. And as much as I want to ignore her and get back to my beer and self-pity, I can tell by the look on her face that it’s not what she wants.

“Let me buy you a drink,” I offer.

She shakes her head once. “I should be buying you one as a thanks. No telling what he would have done if he’d had the chance to do anything.”

Her cute-as-fuck little nose wrinkles, and I realize now why men turn into complete fucking pussies for women. I’m one for her, and I don’t even know her name yet. Pretty sure I’d do just about anything for this woman.

“I’m Keely, by the way,” she says, extending her hand.

When I slip my palm in hers, jolts of electricity blast throughout my whole body, shooting up my hand, arm, and down to my feet.

“Hound,” I grunt, barely able to mutter my fucking name because she’s got me that fucked up.

I order us a couple of drinks, then take her over to a table. She tells me she’s in town for a friend’s wedding and one of her friends set her up with that guy in hopes she’d have a date to the wedding. We talk until the bar closes, then we go back to her hotel, which is within walking distance.

It’s the best fucking birthday I’ve ever had.

CHAPTER

ONE

KEELY

Closing my eyes, I pinch them together tightly as I try to accept the harsh reality that I’m facing—living in my childhood bedroom after over ten years as an independent woman in a whole different state.

I’m back.

A failure of sorts, but also not a failure. A single mother. I have conflicted feelings about what all of this means—what my future is, the real consequences of a week-long fuck fest with a stranger. A man whose legal name I don’t even know. Along with where he lived.

So, here I am, a year after the week of heaven, as I’ve so deemed it because I continue to think about it and wonder where Hound is now. He’s assuredly not living back at home with his parents and a three-month-old baby girl. Because that’s what I’m doing.

Looking over at Thea, I can’t help but smile. She’s asleep in her small bassinet, her arms in a cactus-style pose, her little fingers balled into fists. She’s perfect. Seriously perfect in every single way a baby could be.

The failure of surviving in California is on me, but looking into Thea’s pretty, peaceful face, I can’t help but accept that this is my life and be happy about it. It doesn’t take away the disappointment, but doing it alone and drowning isn’t an option I wanted to pursue, either—not if I didn’t have to.

My parents are good people. They’re disappointed in me, to say the least, but they’re more than happy to help with Thea, and they love her. Truly love her with all they are and all they have.

I finish putting the last few onesies into the small dresser that belongs to my little babe and close it. Everything has been put away neatly. Although it’s cramped, we’re going to make it. And hopefully soon, I’ll be able to save enough money so we can move into our own place.