Exclusive excerpt: ‘Flirting With Forever’ by Kendall Ryan | Happy Ever After
“Phone, remind me to order a cargo net and call a garage guy.” The phone beeped and said, “I'm sorry—I didn't catch that.” Gritting her teeth, Isabelle hit the . HEA shares an excerpt from contemporary romance Flirting With Forever by About the book: I've waited years for the perfect girl, yet she was right in front of You're going to make some guy a very lucky girlfriend someday. quotes have been tagged as flirting: J.K. Rowling: 'Oh well I'd just “He put the book down. I don't go to this school to put up with pretty boys like you.
The beasts were probably as afraid to cross him as everyone else seemed to be. Is it always so? France manages to have the best of both worlds. Can you say the same for England? My estate, Canterbury Court, is in Kent. We suffer some of the rain, but we have more sunny days than the north and even than London. If you have sufficient property to live comfortably in the country, why do you toil in the city for much of the year?
She wishes I would stay in the country all the time. In my opinion, large cities are too restless. So many people, so much noise, so much dirt. I prefer the green. Though if she mentioned that, he would pounce on it as evidence of her true identity, since Chanay was landlocked. Not to mention silent.
She wondered if she could get him to say more. She would like to understand him better. It seemed to her to have plenty of people, even in the drizzle.
Flirting Quotes ( quotes)
I have no patience for men who are arrogant, usually with no reason. Apparently, my lady actress had her own delusions of grandeur. With a nod at Gregory, the porter slid past them into the hall, leaving them alone with the actress. Too late to escape the connection now. She was still in costume, but he noticed things about her that his distance from the stage had obscured—like her voluptuous bosom and surprising height.
Her prominent chin gave her the look of a woman of purpose. And up close, she looked younger than she had on stage. Her gorgeous mouth and eyes. Her coral-pink lips were unexpectedly full, the kind that made a man want to taste and tongue and suck.
Her stunning green eyes shone iridescent in the lamp light from between long, lustrous lashes. They enticed him, and that put him on his guard. Those eyes seemed to be assessing him, too—weighing his worth, character, and proclivities in the same way he often did other people. It disturbed him to be on the receiving end.
Who was this chit, anyway? The woman had thrown him off his game. Forcing a smile, he dipped his head. But her gaze sliced into him like a blade of carved jade. So, of course they are easier to perform. That seemed to sober her. Because I generally find that such opinions come from those who have never lived with tragedy, whose moated castles protect them from poverty and violence. But those of us who toil daily in the darkness prefer to be taken away from it, if only for a short while.
We prefer to laugh. And I truly believe that making people laugh is a noble endeavor far superior to making people cry. What did she know? But I would point out that Shakespeare is lauded for his tragedies more than his comedies. I like his comedies very well. Or, in your language, the excellent work of Oliver Goldsmith. She Stoops to Conquer comes to mind. She shoved a frozen meal into the microwave, opened a can of food for Bear and went to haul in the rest of the bags.
Glancing from the canvas to a spread of photos hung on a board next to it, she nodded. What a beautiful line. Her attention twitched for a moment, and Isabelle glared at the gleam of the light on wet paint, but then she shook off the random irritation and dipped her brush in white again.
Just the tiniest drag of paint, just— Her hand jerked, nearly touching the canvas before she pulled back. The staccato knock of some stranger come to screw up her workday. She wanted to ignore it.
Or maybe even Sophie, who was supposed to be back in town soon. Had Isabelle forgotten another meetup? She vaguely remembered Lauren mentioning something about a new girl they might be able to bring into their little group of friends since Sophie was usually on the road these days.
Whoever it was knocked one more time, just as Isabelle reached for the door. Or any other girlfriend. It was a man, taller than she was, snow dusting his short, dark hair and drifting in on the breeze as she frowned.
He was going to start this off by asking for her name? His gaze sharpened a bit, but his chin dipped in acknowledgment, and he reached into the pocket of the nondescript navy blue parka he wore. Then he paused, watching her as if waiting for a response. Isabelle cleared her throat, hoping the noise would force her ears back into working condition. Did he think she was an idiot?
She hoped he was cold, too. Because he was ruining more than her day. He was ruining something much larger than that. Why was he even pretending? I understand that he may not live on your road, but his residence is only a half mile through those trees. Isabelle finally took the card and examined it as she spoke. Trespassers, items missing from your home or property, even trash you might find on a trail. Have you seen anything unusual? It was a nice jaw. A nice face altogether, lean and angled and just starting to show his age around his eyes.
Too bad he was a liar. And please notify any other residents of your home to do the same. The defiance dropped from her shoulders.