Raised to be the "perfect" wife, Victoria has spent her days maintaining her impeccable outward appearance and her nights mingling with the rich and entitled. When her engagement to Scott ended, Victoria thought she'd be rid of him and his circle of friends forever, but a chance encounter with Brock will change not only the way she sees him, but the way she sees herself.
Brock is a man who's happy and content with his life. A surrogate parent to his now-adult brothers, he spends his days running the company he built himself and his nights playing in his brothers' local band. When he runs into Victoria in the bar after a show, sparks unexpectedly fly, and he's interested in seeing where it goes.
But can the man who's happy with his life, convince the woman who always wants more, to give him a shot with only 15 Minutes on the clock?
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“What are you doing here?” I asked after a few moments, finally coming out of my reverie. “Are you following me?”
Brock looked up and down the street, then back at me. “I was in the neighborhood and thoughtmaybe you’d like to grab a cup of coffee.”
He hadn’t answered my second question, so I narrowed my eyes at him and cocked my hip.
“I don’t like coffee. Are you following me?” I repeated.
“I wouldn’t call it following, since I simply got on my bike and rode here.” He responded with a smirk. “Your sister told me where to find you.”
I made a mental note to speak with Abigail, but had to admit that although I was confused by his appearance, there was a small part of me that was thrilled to see him again.
I told that part to shut up.
“What is it that you want with me?” I asked, honestly confused by his pursuit.
“I want my fifteen minutes.” He brought his hand up to tuck a wayward hair behind my ear, and smiled when I shivered at his touch. “How about tea?”
“What?” I asked, my mind muddled by my reaction to him. Brock was not my type. Not in any way, shape, or form. I went for guys like Scott. Clean-shaven, well groomed, with a penchant for suits. Not tall, burly, mountain-men types, who looked like they wanted to throw you over their shoulder and drag you to their cave.
“You said you don’t like coffee,” Brock explained patiently. “So I was asking if you would rather grab a tea.”
“I don’t want anything,” I answered stubbornly.
Brock stepped forward, getting close enough that all I’d have to do was lean in slightly, and my body would be touching his. He brought his face down close to mine, and I had to tilt my head back to hold his gaze. I tried to keep my expression blank, so he wouldn’t see the way my traitorous body was reacting to his nearness.
“Just get on my bike, Victoria,” his voice rumbled in my ear. “The coffee joint is a couple blocks away. You give me fifteen minutes, and if you’re not interested in going any further, I’ll bring you back to your car and we’ll be finished.”
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