Slow Dance at Rose Bend Naima Simone (best ebook reader under 100 .txt) đ
- Author: Naima Simone
Book online «Slow Dance at Rose Bend Naima Simone (best ebook reader under 100 .txt) đ». Author Naima Simone
Praise for the
Novels of Naima Simone
âPassion, heat and deep emotionâNaima Simone is a gem!â
âNew York Times bestselling author Maisey Yates
âNaima Simone balances crackling, electric love scenes with exquisitely rendered characters caught in emotional turmoil.â
âEntertainment Weekly
âSimone is always a good bet.
âAll About Romance
âI am a huge Naima Simone fan. With her stories, she has the ability to transport you to places you can only dream of, with characters who have a realness to them.â
âRead Your Writes
â[Naima Simone] excels at creating drama and emotional scenes as well as strong heroines who are resilient survivors.â
âHarlequin Junkie
Slow Dance at Rose Bend
Naima Simone
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER ONE
GOD LOVED HER.
Oh yes, He did.
Why else would He create such a brutally beautiful man as the one serving drinks behind the bar?
Cherrie Moore peered down into her glass. Only a really good muscat could have her philosophizing about agape love and sinful lust in the same thought.
Seriously though, she mused, sipping more wine and studying the graceful Adonis who turned drawing beers and mixing drinks into a ballet. No, not Adonis. There was nothing pretty or classical about him. Not with those scalpel-sharp cheekbones or the stubbornness in that rock-solid jaw that even the thick, half-past-five-oâclock shadow couldnât hide. Or that mouth, with its almost-too-full, firm lips.
And donât get her started on that body.
Atlas. She mentally snapped her fingers even as she downed the last of her drink. He wasnât Adonis, he was Atlas. A tattooed Titan with inked biceps, thick thighs in faded jeans and shoulders wide enough to carry the weight of the worldâor the weight of a bar called Roadâs End. Wide enough that they, and a powerful chest, had his black T-shirt screaming for mercy.
Oh yes. This man was definitely Godâs handiwork. And sex with him was probably a divine revelation.
âEither you have X-ray vision and are checking to make sure his lungs are clear, or you really, really like how his chest is stretching that shirt.â Belinda Barnes smirked, commandeering the barstool on the other side of Cherrie.
She snorted, arching an eyebrow at her friend. âCareful there, woman. Daryl would be quite interested in why youâre noticing said chest at all.â
âPlease.â The lovely older woman flipped her dark hair over her shoulder. âIâm married, not dead. And besides, Daryl doesnât mind at all if I look. Especially when he reaps the benefits.â
âOh, Jesus. I canât unhear that.â Cherrie groaned, clapping her hands to her ears. Unfortunately, the action didnât drown out Belindaâs lascivious cackle.
As if sensing their attention on him, Daryl glanced from his and Belindaâs daughter to zero in on them. He arched a dark eyebrow, and even with the small dance floor separating them, Cherrie caught the quirk of his mouth despite the thick gray-and-black beard surrounding it.
Beside her, Belinda sighed. âNearly twenty-five years, and that man still does it for me.â
Cherrie nodded. Daryl, with his big build, long dark hair and handsome features, was a cinnamon roll. Crusty on the outside, but sweet and soft on the inside for his beautiful wife and daughter. Cherrie didnât need to glimpse his eyes to witness the deep love that shone there. Daryl and Belinda werenât just true partners in business, as they owned Ride, a motorcycle apparel shop in town, but also in life.
What must it be like to be loved so completely?
To know that a personâs affection, commitment and approval werenât based on your actions or inactions? To be accepted and cherished simply because you were...you?
Cherrie had once believed she knew the answer to those questions. Believed sheâd had a great shot at obtaining what Daryl and Belinda had. But time and an unexpected health scare had ripped off the blinders sheâd been desperately clinging to.
God, itâd been one helluva year.
And it was only July.
âRachel and Jared will have that kind of marriage. How can they not, with you and Daryl as an example?â Cherrie murmured, circling a fingertip around the base of her empty glass. âAnd thank you for inviting me to their engagement party. You guys are like my family here in Rose Bend, and Iâm honored to celebrate with you.â
âLike family?â Belinda slid an arm around Cherrieâs shoulders and squeezed hard. âCherrie, thereâs no âlikeâ about it. Youâre family, plain and simple.â Belinda smacked a kiss on Cherrieâs cheek. âI love this time of year. Not just because of the motorcycle rally, but because every July brings you back to Rose Bend. Brings you back to us. And just let me know when you and that boyfriend of yours are ready to take the next step. Weâll throw you the hugest party right here, too.â
Well, that would be a problem. She inwardly winced, brushing her dark, red-tipped curls out of her face. One, sheâd been with Kenneth for three years and heâd never made the trip to Rose Bend, Massachusetts, with her, claiming it wasnât âhis type of thing.â And two...
Two, Kenneth was no longer her boyfriend. Which kind of made it hard to have an engagement party with him.
âActually, Belindaââ
âHey, ladies. Can I refill your drinks?â
Whoa. That deep, low rumble rippled through her like a tranquil stream meeting the wildest river. She didnât need to turn around to confirm who it belonged to. Her every instinct, every taut muscle, every pulse beat identified its owner.
Belinda whipped around on the barstool, and Cherrie turned much slower. As if the extra few seconds could prepare her for coming face-to-face with the man whoâd captured her attention since sheâd stepped foot into the bar an hour earlier.
âYes, please,â Belinda chirped. âIâll take another Sam Adams. Thanks, Maddox. Hey, I know youâve been busyâand thank you again for letting us have Rachelâs engagement party here,â she said, reaching across the bar and squeezing his hand. âYou probably havenât had the chance to meet a friend of mine and Darylâs. Maddox, this is Cherrie Moore. Cherrie, Iâd like you to
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