36 hours is a short spell when racing the clock.
2,160 minutes is an eternity for old friends to fall in love…
August Cruz is the only man I’ve ever loved.
He’s the one who got away.
He’s the one I totally screwed over.
Now he’s standing on my doorstep, nine years later, but he’s not the only thing that turns up. My mother’s lost diary is in my hands, and it might lead me to my father. A possibility I wished for one year ago, at my last birthday.
I have 36 hours to fulfill that wish.
I have 36 hours to drag August on a wild scavenger hunt.
I have 36 hours to protect my heart before I lose him again...because there's something he's not telling me.
LICKS is a full-length, standalone Sexy Second Chance Romance with a swoony Happily Ever After.
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August was a slight step ahead of me. I followed close on his heels until we were outside. We paused, fingers intertwined. He faced me and ran his thumb over the back of my hand. It was a simple brush, but there was nothing simple about touching August.
We both glanced at our clasped hands. My breath faltered. The past few days had been warm for April, the heatwave steaming the evenings, too. Being with August made it steamier.
He wound both our arms around my back, pulling me against him. “You look beautiful, Possum.”
His nickname for me pinched my heart. As kids, I’d pretend to sleep sometimes while we’d watch TV, like a deceiving possum playing dead. I’d then bolt upright to scare the living shit out of him. A screeching August was supremely entertaining.
I tilted my head back to look into his eyes, every memory we’d shared reflected in those hazel pools. “I’ve missed that nickname.”
His free hand came to my cheek, knuckles brushing it gently. “I’ve missed you. It was always there, under my skin, in every song, but I didn’t realize how much until today. My heart is fucking racing.”
God, this man. I squeezed our laced palms and unfurled my other over his sternum. Over his heart. Need bellowed in that thundering beat. “You don’t smell like grass.”
He wrinkled his nose. “I used to smell like weed?”
“Like grass, dummy. Your lawn mowing business.”
He smiled and shook his head lightly. “We can roll around in a park, if you want.” He sucked on his bottom lip while eyeing mine.
Lord have mercy. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“Oh, it’s happening.” He gripped my hand tighter, pulled me closer, brushed his nose against mine.
My best friend, the friend I loved irrevocably and thought I'd lost for good, might actually kiss me.
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About Kelly Siskind
A small-town girl at heart, Kelly moved from the city to open a cheese shop with her husband in northern Ontario. When she’s not neck deep in cheese or out hiking, you can find her, notepad in hand, scribbling down one of the many plot bunnies bouncing around in her head. She laughs at her own jokes and has been known to eat her feelings—gummy bears heal all. She’s also an incurable romantic, devouring romance novels into the wee hours of the morning.
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