She picked up a taco, took a big bite, and moaned as it made its way down to her stomach. “I want to marry this taco.””Lucky taco.”Honor stilled. That voice. That one-of-a-kind masculine scent. Bryce stood right behind her.

She picked up a taco, took a big bite, and moaned as it made its way down to her stomach. “I want to marry this taco.””Lucky taco.”Honor stilled. That voice. That one-of-a-kind masculine scent. Bryce stood right behind her.

– Robin Bielman –

Blame it on the Kiss

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