About MY PERFECT MISTAKE
What happens in Aspen is definitely not staying in Aspen . . .
A girls’ trip to Aspen was exactly what Shay needed to forget about her toxic ex-boyfriend. She’s got her girls, pristine slopes for skiing, and hot guys everywhere. Of course, her epic self-rediscovery goes completely to hell when a wild (and deliciously hot) skier knocks Shay on her ass . . . and war is declared.
Kolton doesn’t know what it is about Shay that makes him lose it. Not just his cool—although she does have an unholy gift for that—but his restraint. When anger gives way to explosive chemistry, they’re both shaken with the intensity of it. But somewhere between lust and hate, Kolton and Shay realize they could have something real . . . if they don’t kill each other first.
“So, hairdresser, huh?” Shay’s leaning on the kitchen counter, her hazel eyes no longer stormy.
“Can’t deny the passion when it comes calling.” I’m going to kill Sawyer.
“Guess not. And you do have good hair.” Her gaze lingers on my ponytail, dragging down my long-underwear top and settling on the area around my belt buckle. “Good hair,” she says again, her eyes flicking up to meet mine. Damn, that look. Lids lowered, lips parted.
The Bitch is flirting.
Maybe today won’t be a total fail. Maybe I don’t have to wait until tomorrow to break my dry spell. If her quick temper is any indication, Shay is likely a tiger in the sack. I glance over at our friends: Nico and Raven touching any way they can, Lily and Sawyer leaning in close and talking fashion. Sawyer may not be getting any, but I haven’t seen him this interested in talking to a chick in forever. They’re all going with the flow. I deserve this night as much as them. Probably more. Shay may be a pain in the ass, but she’s easy on the eyes.
I sip my bourbon and step closer, but I can’t think of a thing to say. Gripping my glass tighter by the second, I shift on my feet, my neck prickly and warm. Am I this far off my game? Have I lost the ability to flirt? “What do you do?” I ask.
Apparently, I have.
She frowns, the flirty girl nowhere to be seen. “Interior designer,” she says, her tone flat. Then she glances over my shoulder, and her eyes spark back to life. “Are those salt and vinegar chips?”
I glance at the bag of Lays. “Yeah. Help yourself.”
A soft sigh later, she’s digging into the bag like she hasn’t eaten in weeks. I pour another drink, still on edge. Talking to this girl should be easy. I certainly have no problem giving her a piece of my mind. But she gets me so off balance. And hot. There’s something about her charged energy, feisty and unpredictable—one minute barbed, the next teasing. Add to that her moans of pleasure as she eats, and it’s getting harder not to press her against the counter and swallow those sounds.
“The plastic isn’t edible,” I say when she’s practically sucking the crumbs from the bottom.
She freezes—jaw set, lips pursed. “I’ll eat the plastic if I want, but I appreciate you looking out for my girlish figure.”
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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.
She is represented by Stacey Donaghy of the Donaghy Literary Group.
2015 Golden Heart® Finalist
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