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Afterwards, we both stand up and walk toward the water where our family is having fun without us.
The sun sets over this island in the Philippines as we splash around happily in its cool and orange-tinted waters. If our life were a movie, this is the part where the camera pans into the horizon and says that this is the end, but I know deep down inside that this is just the beginning for the two of us.
Now, do you think Lillian would like to try somebalut?
Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this book, make sure you read all the books in my series,Billionaire Keepers. I keep laughing, thinking of Lillian being handedbalutto try. But seriously, I think this series is my best yet and I'd love for you to get lost in all the standalone stories.
Check them out here, but why not start with the first one,One Night Second Chance? I've attached the first chapter so you can keep reading!
Love, aimee xo
One Night Second Chance
I have a billion reasons to hate my new boss; that’s the number of pieces my heart broke into after he disappeared.
Six years ago, weeks of flirting ended up in a heated, delicious night.
And then he was gone from my life.
But not from my head.
When I landed my dream job at a multi-million-dollar resort, it quickly turned into a nightmare.
Our eyes locked, and I knew it was him.
But now he’s the billionaire owner who only knows me as the new chef.
I need to stay away and focus on my job.
But I can’t escape.
Especially when he summons me to cook for him in his private cabin.
When the storm blows in, I’m stuck, and his voice, his touch, his woodsy scent...it all becomes too much.
Just once more.
For old time’s sake.
I can handle it.
But if I can’t, the pieces of my heart might be shattered all over again.
One Night Second Chance - Prologue
It was the perfect night.
The streetlights burned like the stars I couldn’t see on the busy street as I walked with Dante. My heart lodged like a lump in my throat as my body coursed with desire for him.
We reached the house I lived in with my grandmother and little sister. But my grandma , or Gramma, as we liked to call her, was away for the weekend, on a quick ladies' trip with her book club, and Ella was sleeping over at her best friend’s house. The house was empty.
It was a thought that crashed loudly in my brain as Dante and I walked up the short path of brick that led to the small porch.
The overhead light on the porch was as harsh as a spotlight, more to intimidate people than provide any sort of ambiance, but Dante’s dark brown hair shone under the bright lights. His dreamy blue eyes glimmered with a mystery that I was dying to learn.
Dante didn’t speak much. He was guarded. But I knew he lived with his dad, and I knew he didn’t like to talk much about his dad. He never mentioned his mom, which gave me the impression that she wasn’t in the picture.
He definitely wasn’t the brooding, quiet type. Dante was all about fun and took me on adventures I would never have even considered. He was five years older than me, twenty-four to my nineteen, and almost certainly bad news. But I didn’t care.
