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BLURB:
Daniel
When I run into Riley, who does not look old enough to buy the wine in her grocery cart without a fake ID, the only thing I should exchange with her is an apology. After I tell her about the gumbo dinner I’m sure to ruin, we end up exchanging phone numbers. And boy, am I glad to have the hot little sous chef in my contact list when my roux goes up in smoke.
Riley expected my call but I didn’t expect it to go so well. To be taken in by her and not want to let her go.
She’s half my age. Better off being friends with my eighteen-year-old daughter or out hiking with her college-age friends than dating me. Riley has her whole life ahead of her. Between my age, my college football injury, and my addiction to my pottery wheel, I’d only hold her back.
I have to let her go. Don’t I?
