what sandra thinks

when we met. t/toddler.

She was his last hope. After about a dozen others, Adam was down to his last interview. If this didn’t work out, he would have to start all over. Being a single father to a toddler had its challenges, and finding a nanny seemed to be the worst of them.

He tried to be hopeful about Elena. On paper, she was perfect. Education, experience, recommendations. And on the phone she sounded enthusiastic. She was also looking for a place to live, so the live-in part of the job was perfect for her.

When Adam heard her knock, he opened the door. And he struggled to catch his breath. Damn. I can’t hire her. She’s fucking beautiful. How can I live with her? I’ll lose my mind.

“Adam? Hi. I’m Elena.” With a smile, she held out her hand and he took it.

“It’s nice to meet you, Elena.” He backed up to let her into his home. “Please come in.”

He spent nearly thirty minutes talking with her, desperately trying to focus on what she was saying, not on her irresistible smile, infections laugh, or intoxicating scent. What troubled him the most, though, was how perfect he knew she was for the job. But he had reservations because of his intense attraction to her.

Before Adam figured out what to say to Elena, torn between knowing she was the perfect fit and knowing he might go insane living with her, Lily ran into the room and jumped on her dad’s lap.

“Daddy! I’m hungry.”

“We’ll eat soon, munchkin,” Adam said. Elena laughed and the sound of it caught Lily’s attention.

“Hi!” Lily said.

Adam smiled. “Lily, this is Elena.”

“Hello, Lily. I like your dress.”

“Thank you. I like your hair.”

Elena smiled. “Thank you.”

Lily hopped off Adam’s lap and walked to Elena. Lily reached up with both arms extended, wanting Elena to hug her. Elena turned to Adam and he nodded. With Adam’s approval, Elena gave Lily a hug. When they separated, Lily stood beside Elena.

“You’re so pretty,” Lily said. She turned to her father. “Isn’t she pretty, Daddy?”

Adam felt his heart pounding in his chest. Yes, she’s pretty. She’s fucking perfect. He turned his eyes from Lily to Elena and back again. “Yes, baby. She is very pretty.” When he looked at Elena again, he adored her blush. And her smile.

“Elena?” Adam said.

“Yes?”

“The job is yours.” God help me.

—♥—

p.s. — I’ll take the job. And the man.

Hot guy: Serbian model Dusan Susnjar (and his daughter) (How fucking adorable are they?)

©2022 what sandra thinks

when we met. s/sublet.

“What are you going to do now, Kaitlyn?”

I stared at my best friend Darcy for a moment before I spoke. With a sigh, I dropped my head into my hands. “I don’t know. I guess I’m staying in New York.” Ever since the deal my boss made with our British parent company fell through, I’d been a bit lost. I had everything planned:

1. Promotion.
2. Move to London for six months for said promotion.
3. Meet prince charming.
4. Live happily ever after.

Of course, I only knew the first two were happening, not the last two. But a girl can dream, right?

“Kaitlyn?”

“What?” The look of worry and concern on Darcy’s face had me a little scared.

“I think you’re forgetting something.”

“I am? I still have a job, Darce. I’m just not leaving.”

“I know that. But what you don’t have is a place to live.”

“Oh my god! I sublet my apartment! How did I forget that minor detail?”

“You’ve had a lot on your mind.”

“I guess I’ll have to call him and tell him I can’t rent to him after all.”

“Kaitlyn! You can’t do that. How is he going to find a new place to live in New York City with no notice at all? That’s just cruel.”

“Dammit.” I knew she was right. “He’s coming by tonight so we can finally meet. I’ll talk to him. Maybe we can work something out.”

“Especially if he’s hot.” She winked at me.

“Jesus, Darce. That’s hardly what’s important right now.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I think it’s pretty important.”

• • •

I paced around my apartment wondering what I was going to do. Darcy was right. I couldn’t leave Alex without a place to live. We had a deal. But I also had nowhere to go.

When I heard his knock, I took a deep breath and went to open the door even though I had no idea how I was going to fix this. I pulled the door open and lost all ability to speak. All I could hear in my head were Darcy’s words: Especially if he’s hot.

“Kaitlyn.”

I shook myself out of the trance I’d slipped into. “Alex. Sorry. Please come in.” He smiled as he walked past me. I caught his scent and it was intoxicating. Just like his eyes. And his perfectly unshaven face.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” I asked.

He wouldn’t stop smiling at me and it was very distracting. “No thank you, Kaitlyn.”

God his voice. Okay, get it together, Kaitlyn. “Have a seat.” I gestured to the sofa, but he waited to sit until I did.

“So…”

“So,” I repeated. God he was gorgeous. “We need to talk.”

“Uh oh. It sounds serious. Are you breaking up with me?”

I laughed, finally relaxing a little. “No. Well, kind of.”

He rested his hand over his heart. “Ouch.”

“Alex.” My smile faded. “My time in London… it’s not happening.”

“Why?”

“It’s a long story. But the problem is… I’m not leaving.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t want to leave you in a bind with nowhere to live. I’m not sure what to do.”

He thought in silence, but only for a moment. “I have a proposition.”

My answer is yes. Whatever it is. “Yes?”

“I was going to stay in your spare bedroom.” He paused as I nodded. “I could still do that.”

“With me in the apartment? Like, live together?”

“I think it’s the perfect solution.” He flashed me a killer smile. “Roomie.”

—♥—

p.s. — Let’s hope he walks around dripping wet in only a towel after he showers. 

Hot guy: American model Trey Baxter (who can move in with me anytime)

©2022 what sandra thinks

when we met. r/rehabilitation.

I drove up the driveway to the home of Mr. McAllister, who my boss described as “a sweet man in his seventies who needed rehab after a hip fracture.” When I reached the house, I froze. It was beautiful. And giant. I couldn’t wait to see the inside.

I parked and walked up the front steps. I was unusually anxious as I rang the bell. The house was so impressive and imposing that I half-expected a butler to answer the door. But the man on the other side of the door was definitely not the butler.

He was tall. So tall. And he wore a suit better than I’ve ever seen a man wear a suit. His hair was just barely out of place, like he’d been raking his fingers through it. And the scruff on his face screamed sex. Okay, maybe it only screamed sex to me.

“Hi. I’m…”

I didn’t even finish introducing myself before he answered his ringing phone. He raised a finger to me, telling me to wait. Rude. I stood there, irritated with Mr. I’m-Too-Important-To-Miss-A-Phone-Call.

I assumed this stupidly gorgeous man was Mr. McAllister’s son. And while Mr. McAllister might have been a “sweet man”, his son clearly was not. I sighed dramatically and tapped my foot as I waited for Mr. Important to finish his call.

Finally.

“Can I help you?” he said, sounding annoyed. Fuck him for having such a deep sexy voice.

“I’m Lexi Emerson. I’m here for Mr. McAllister’s rehabilitation.”

“Oh, the physical therapist.”

Jeez. No “hello”? No introduction? Rude.

“Yes. May I come in?”

He moved to the side and let me in. “My father is right this way.” He started walking and I followed, barely able to keep up. Rude. We met Mr. McAllister in a lovely room with huge windows overlooking a beautiful garden.

I waited for Mr. Important to introduce me, but again, I was left hanging.

“Hello, Mr. McAllister. I’m Lexi. It’s nice to meet you.” I held out my hand. He took it in one of his and covered it with the other, giving me a gentle squeeze.

“Lovely to meet you, Lexi. And you can call me Wesley.” I smiled to him and he smiled back. Opposite of Mr. Important. Wesley looked toward his son and then back to me. “I see you’ve met Logan.”

“Not formally,” I said turning away from Wesley to his son. His eyes caught mine and my words caught in my throat. It felt like he was looking inside me. “Lexi Emerson,” I finally managed to say. I held my hand out toward him.

“Logan McAllister,” he said, taking my hand. I felt myself tremble the moment we touched. What the hell was that? “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Emerson,” he said. His tone was almost flirtatious. Or maybe it was sarcastic. I suspected the latter after how rude he’d been to me. But then he smiled. Holy fuck. I had never seen a sexier, more devious smile in my life. I would love to read his thoughts right now.

“You, too, Logan.” I intentionally used his first name, though he didn’t use mine.

Logan turned to his father. “I’ll get out of your way.” He turned to me with a nod. “Miss Emerson.” His gaze lingered for a bit longer than what seemed normal. My cheeks were burning as I watched Logan walk away. Before he left the room, though, he turned back and caught my eyes. “Miss Emerson, please see me before you leave.”

I nodded, unable to speak.

I caught a smirk on his face before he disappeared.

Fuck me.

—♥—

p.s. — The hot jerk. Who will inevitably be transformed into a good guy. Eventually. 

Hot guy: American model Lukas Koszewski (also former drummer for the rock band Emarosa which I’d never heard of until I discovered this man)

©2022 what sandra thinks

when we met. q/quit.

I hate my job.

After spending hours in class and even more time studying after class, the last thing I wanted was to go to work at the bar and be groped and harassed. But that’s what usually happened. I didn’t have a choice. After I lost my parents, it was up to me to take care of my little brother Jake. For that, I needed to finish school. And I needed to save enough for him to go to college, too. I needed the money.

I’d only been at work for about an hour when it happened.

“What can I get you?”

“I’ll have a beer,” the guy said, with a look that made me uncomfortable, “and a night with you.”

“I’ll get your beer,” I said, ignoring the rest of his request. I turned to walk away, but after only one step, he slapped my ass. I whipped around and glared at him. “Do not fucking touch me!” I was livid. It wasn’t the first time something like this happened, but I snapped.

“Look at the way you’re dressed,” he said. “You want it.”

“Fuck off!”

I stormed away from the table. Of course, that was the moment my sleazebag boss walked out from the back office.

“Kate!”

Fuck. I followed him to the bar.

“You cannot talk to the customers like that. Go apologize to him.”

I could only see red. “I will not fucking apologize to that pig.”

“Kate…”

“No. I’m done.” I ripped my apron off and threw it at him. “I quit.”

I swiped a beer off the bar, not knowing whose beer it was, and walked over to the creep who slapped me.

“Here’s your beer.” I poured it over his head and slammed the glass down in front of him. Then I left.

The moment I stepped outside, it hit me. I had no job. No income. No way to support Jake and myself. I barely made it a block before I burst into tears. How could I be so irresponsible? I needed that job!

I sat on the curb wiping away my tears. I couldn’t afford to fall apart. I also couldn’t afford to be unemployed. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, but my tears returned. As I wiped them away again, a man approached. I was wary, but he had a sincere look of concern on his handsome face.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine.” I lied, turning my eyes to my lap.

He didn’t speak for a moment, but he didn’t walk away either. I looked back up at him.

“I’m Oliver,” he said, offering his hand.

I took it and tried to smile. “Kate.”

“Kate. You’re not fine.”

“You’re right. I’m not.”

He cautiously sat beside me. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Okay. I’ll just sit with you, if that’s alright.”

I nodded. We sat in silence for a few minutes. Maybe it should have been an uncomfortable silence, yet it wasn’t. We watched cars go by and pedestrians across the street. But finally, I couldn’t hold in my thoughts any longer.

“I couldn’t do it anymore,” I blurted out. “Just because I’m wearing a short skirt doesn’t mean anyone has the right to touch me. I couldn’t stand another minute in that place being groped. But I needed that job. I don’t know what I’m going to do now.” Again, tears fell from my eyes.

“No one should have to put up with that. You’ll find another job. It’ll be okay.”

“But my brother. I have to take care of him. I can’t fail him.”

“Hey.” He paused until I looked at him. “What can I do to help?”

“Why do you want to help me? I’m a stranger.”

“No, you’re not. You’re Kate.”

I smiled. He actually made me smile.

And for some reason I didn’t quite understand, I actually believed that it would be okay.

—♥—

p.s. — This is not one of my favorites, but I still think it has a lot of potential.

Hot guy: unknown model (who I’d like to find out on the street… or anywhere)

©2022 what sandra thinks

when we met. p/phone.

After a long, hot shower, Leo leaned back on the couch, feet up, legs crossed at the ankles. He was overworked and exhausted, and all he wanted was to relax. He sighed when he heard his phone.

Joey: We’re at The Red Room having a drink. Get over here.
Leo: Not interested.
Joey: What the hell? Come on.
Leo: Not tonight.

Leo tossed his phone to the other end of the couch and leaned his head back, closing his eyes. Barely a minute passed when he heard his phone again. Fucking Joey. He grabbed his phone, ready to tell Joey to fuck off, but it wasn’t him. Text from an unknown number.

unknown: Hey Maddie. About earlier—no, I do not want you to set me up, but yes, I do want to meet someone. I’m tired of spending my nights with Ben and Jerry. And the magic rabbit. I need an actual human male. I miss being kissed and touched. I need to feel flesh, not silicone. I need an intense, hot, wild, passionate night of non-stop fucking. It’s been too long.

Holy hell! I don’t know who this is, but I think I just fell in love.

Leo: Hi. I’m not Maddie, but maybe I can help.
unknown: Oh my god! I’m so sorry!
Leo: Don’t be. I’m quite enjoying you.
unknown: My friend Maddie… she got a new phone number. I must have entered it wrong. Oh god. This is so embarrassing.
Leo: No need to be embarrassed. I promise. I’m Leo. Nice to meet you…?
unknown: Abby. Nice to meet you, too. I’m sorry to have bothered you.
Leo: You didn’t. Tell me more about this magic rabbit…
Abby: Oh my god.

—♥—

p.s. — Just pretend the guy in the picture is holding a phone. And pretend it’s nighttime. And pretend he’s my man.

Hot guy: unknown *really* hot model 

©2022 what sandra thinks

when we met. o/ocean.

I don’t believe in marriage.

That’s what Theo always said. But Emily never pressured him. She’d never even mentioned marriage. But the longer they dated, the more he felt the need to remind her. I don’t believe in marriage. She always felt that was his reason for breaking things off.

While absentmindedly skimming the alumni newsletter she received every month, Emily took a sip of her coffee. And she almost spit it at her screen. “Isabel Clarke and Theo Reynolds wed on May 3rd…” Emily slammed her laptop closed.

I don’t believe in marriage. She rolled her eyes. He just didn’t believe in marriage with me.

Swallowing back tears, Emily grabbed her keys and ran out of the house. She needed to get away from her laptop… her phone… from everything. She needed to go to the ocean.

Pacing slowly along the shoreline, Emily watched her feet sink into the wet sand with every step. She tried to focus on her footprints and ignore everything else. It wasn’t that she wanted Theo. It had been almost two years. But seeing that news still stung. She wanted to fall in love. But at that moment, she’d settle for turning off the thoughts swimming in her head.

She stopped and stared out into the ocean, hoping the water would somehow magically clear her mind. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and sighed. But she couldn’t stop thinking. And with her eyes closed, she didn’t notice the waves creeping closer.

When the cold water reached her toes, it startled her. She quickly took a few steps back… and bumped right into someone. She knocked that someone over and lost her balance. She fell with him.

Him. Emily knew it was a ‘him’. She knew because when she landed on his chest, she could feel his hard muscles under her. And when he held her in his arms, she melted into him. Oh God. I don’t want to get up. I don’t even think I can. His touch is magic. And intoxicating. My heart is pounding. And every part of me is trembling. Can he feel that? I can’t believe I knocked him over. My God, how humiliating. Why is this my life?

As she turned to push herself off him, she finally managed words. “I’m so sorry. I…” But after barely speaking, she froze, hands on his warm bare chest, staring into the most velvety dark chocolate brown eyes God ever created.

Sebastian saw her jumping back from the water, but he didn’t have a chance to react before she knocked him over. Or maybe somewhere inside him, something told him not to react. Because she was magic. How else could she make his heart race before she even touched him? Before he saw her eyes? But that’s what she did.

When they crashed onto the sand together, he instinctively held her in his arms. And his heart went mad. My God. What is happening? Am I having a heart attack? I can feel her inside me. Everywhere. Definitely magic. She slowly turned in his arms and rested her hands on his chest. Presumably to push herself up. But that didn’t happen. Her apology barely fell from her lips before she fell silent. And he finally saw her eyes. Beautiful. Those eyes… so intense and so blue. And her mouth… oh God.

For long lingering moments, they panted softly, staring at each other. But finally Emily took in a deep breath and attempted her apology again. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” I am not okay. What is he doing to me? Am I having a stroke? My God, he is beautiful.

“I think I’ll survive.” He smiled and her heart jumped. And he wasn’t letting her go. But she knew she had to get up. She cautiously pushed herself up and stood. She tried not to stare as he stood beside her, but she failed. She couldn’t help herself. He was gorgeous.

“I…” She had to catch her breath before apologizing again. “I’m sorry.” They were the only words she could manage. She was embarrassed. Blushing. Still trembling from the mere memory of his touch. And mesmerized by the man that now stood before her. Is he real? Because he is perfect. His arms are beautiful. Tanned and toned and… oh God. And his chest… it looks as good as it felt. I want to touch it again. And his face… unshaven, rugged, masculine. Gorgeous.

Sebastian caught himself staring at her, and he was speechless. But not in his head. His mind had plenty of things to say. God, look at her. She is beautiful. I could stare into her eyes for hours. And her mouth… damn. I’m not sure I’m going to come back from this. I want to hold her again. Just as he was finally going to attempt speaking, a long wispy strand of hair flew across her face and she reached up to push it away. That simple act thoroughly captivated him. God help me. Is she real? I need to say something. Anything. I don’t want her to walk away from me.

Emily watched him nervously. He’s not saying anything. Should I go? But his eyes want me to stay. Or I’m losing my mind. She sighed softly, hoping her heart and lungs would resume normal functioning.

With a deep breath that wasn’t as calming as he’d hoped, Sebastian finally spoke. “You can make it up to me…” He smiled again and adored the look he saw in her eyes.

“How can I do that?” Because I’ll do anything.

You can push me down and get on top of me again. “You can have dinner with me.”

And possibly breakfast.

—♥—

p.s. — If only my visits to the ocean went like this…

Hot guy: You know who it is. (Italian model Simone Bredariol)

©2022 what sandra thinks

when we met. n/napkin.

After his friend abandoned him for an admittedly cute girl across the room, Jackson found himself a stool at one end of the half-moon shaped bar. The bartender, Marcus, a friend of his, came over and put a drink in front of him.

“Thanks, Marcus.”

“You got it. What happened to Will?”

“What do you think?”

They shared a laugh as Jackson picked up his drink. But before the glass reached his lips, he froze. At the other end of the bar sat the most enchanting women he had ever seen. Dark waves of hair fell over her shoulders, and a delicate vine tattoo wrapped around her arm. Jackson found it sexy as hell.

He could feel his heart racing from merely looking at her. He knew he’d never be able to talk to her. Instead, he waved Marcus back over to him.

“Do you know who that is?” he asked, gesturing across the bar.

“No idea,” Marcus said. “I haven’t seen her in here before.”

“What about that guy talking to her?” Jackson asked.

“I think his name’s Marty. I’ve seen him around.”

“She looks annoyed with him,” Jackson said, smiling. Somehow, her annoyed face was both adorable and hot.

Marcus laughed. “She does. Maybe you should rescue her?”

Jackson wanted to rescue her. He wanted to have the most charming, most perfect thing to say. But meeting women in bars—he had no idea what he was doing. But he had to try something.

From the stack next to him, Jackson took a napkin and looked back to Marcus. “Got a pen?” Marcus gave him one. Jackson wrote on the napkin. “Hi. Is that guy bothering you?” He folded it in half and gave it to Marcus. “Will you bring this to her?”

Marcus nodded and walked over to her with the napkin. He handed it to her, and she stared at him, utterly confused. Marcus took a step back and gestured towards Jackson.

Her eyes met Jackson’s. He was already smiling, and he felt a rush when she smiled back to him. She took her eyes from his and looked down to the note Jackson had written. He loved the way her smile grew as she read. When she returned her gaze to his, she just shook her head gently and rolled her eyes, all the while never taking her smile away.

She was definitely annoyed with “Marty”. Still smiling to her, Jackson reached for another napkin. He held up a finger to her, silently asking her to wait a moment. It was getting late, but he didn’t want her to leave. Looking down, he wrote once more. “What’s your name, beautiful?”

Jackson looked back up and flagged Marcus over. He handed him the napkin and gestured towards her once more. Marcus walked it over, shaking his head and laughing to himself on the way. Once more, she smiled to Jackson, only looking away from him to read the napkin.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her. He watched as she fumbled through her purse for a pen. She wrote and handed the napkin back to Marcus. Without a word, he knew to deliver it to Jackson. And when Jackson read her reply, his smile lit up his whole face. Something about having a name to go with this gorgeous woman made his heart pound.

He read her note again. “Mackenzie. You?” He looked up at her and smiled. She returned the gesture as Jackson quickly scribbled on the napkin again. “Jackson.” By now, he was feeling a bit more confident. “Can I buy you a drink?”

When Mackenzie read his note, she smiled and tucked the napkin into her bag. Jackson loved that she kept it. She stood from her stool and excused herself, leaving Marty behind. For a split-second, he thought she was going to leave. But a moment later, she appeared by his side.

Her smile was radiant. “Hello, Jackson.”

“Hello, Mackenzie.”

—♥—

p.s. — As we are now into the second half of the alphabet, I made a new title graphic. I don’t know about you, but I was getting sick of the other one.

p.p.s. — Yeah, I find it hard to believe that a man who looks like *that* would be too shy to approach a woman. But it’s my fiction… so there.

Hot guy: Italian model Simone Bredariol (Clearly the most attractive man in the world.) 

©2022 what sandra thinks

when we met. m/mechanic.

“I’ll tow you to the repair shop in town. I know the guys. They’ll take care of you. Hop in.”

I stared hopelessly at Joe, the tow truck driver. “Okay. Thank you.” It wasn’t as though I had any other choice. When my car started hesitating and making strange sounds, I knew something was wrong. I was lucky I was able to pull over before it died.

We pulled into Falconi’s Garage, and I stepped out of the truck to call my sister. I was definitely not visiting this weekend as planned. I was only forty-five minutes from home—I wasn’t going to make it the other ninety to her house.

As I was saying goodbye to my sister, Joe approached. I dropped my phone into my bag.

“You’re all set. I’m not sure if Gio or his son is inside, but head right into the garage, okay?”

“Yeah.” I guess my anxiety was apparent because the next thing he said was an attempt to calm me.

“Hey, don’t look so worried. I’ve known the Falconis for years. It’ll be okay.”

“Thanks, Joe.”

I walked into the garage bay in search of the mechanic. I could just barely see a man underneath an old Alfa Romeo.

“Hello?” I called out.

A deep voice floated up from under the car. “I’ll be right with you.”

“Okay,” I said nervously. God, I really hated having car problems.

A moment later, Mr. Falconi rolled out from under the car. I had to assume it was not Gio. No doubt it was his son. And I was fucking speechless—staring and speechless.

When he stood, it was like he was moving in slow motion. Like I was in some cheesy movie where the hero strolls in and everything slows down. And what a hero he was. Shirtless. Tanned. Ripped. He ran a hand through his messy hair, and a smile grew on his slightly-bearded face. Jesus Christ.

“Hi,” he said, wiping his hands on a rag before extending one to me. “I’m Enzo. What can I do for you, love?” And he has an accent. A sexy Italian one. Damn.

I shook his hand and immediately felt like I was under some sort of spell. I had to take a deep breath before I could remember why I was there. “Hi. My car seems to have died. Joe towed it here. He told me you could help?”

“I will do everything I can. What happened?”

“It started hesitating and shaking a little. And it smelled like something was burning.”

“Could be your transmission.”

“That’s bad, isn’t it?” My worry was showing again.

Enzo reached out and wrapped his hand around my upper arm in an effort to comfort me. “Don’t worry. I’ll take a look first thing tomorrow. I’ll know more once I get it up on the lift.”

He really needs to stop touching me if he doesn’t want me to climb him like a tree.

“Thank you.” I sighed softly. I wasn’t sure what to do next. I was kind of stuck there.

“Do you need a ride somewhere, love?” Could he read my mind?

“It’s okay. I’ll call a friend.”

“Not necessary. I’m about to lock up for the evening. Give me five minutes and I’ll take you wherever you need to go.”

“That’s very sweet of you.” I was most definitely not having sweet thoughts. “But I’m almost an hour from home.”

“I haven’t got any plans.”

“You really don’t have to do this.”

“I know. But I want to.” God, his fucking smile. “I am going to need you to do something for me, though.”

“Anything.” Oh God. Did I say that out loud?

With a devilish smile on his face, he reached for his phone and handed it to me. “Enter your name and number for me? I’ll be right back.”

I did as he asked, and before I could even out my breathing, he returned. Unfortunately, he was no longer shirtless. I handed him his phone, and he looked at my contact information. With a smile on his gorgeous face, he sent me a text.

“Now you have my number, too. Gemma DeLuca.”

The way he spoke my name—the way he smiled—I was a mess.

I wanted this man.

—♥—

p.s. — When I came up with the name for my mechanic, I loved it, but it sounded oddly familiar. Then I remembered that it was the exact name (first and last) of a character in one of my favorite books. Must have been subconscious. Anyway, I changed his last name because I felt that it would be wrong to use the exact same name. But he still had to be Italian.

p.p.s. — Full disclosure: I found the picture first and couldn’t stop looking at it. The story pretty much wrote itself.

p.p.p.s. — Yeah, I had to leave the picture full-size. Actually, on my laptop, it’s bigger than that. I’d like life-sized, though. And real, not a picture. 

Hot guy: Italian model Simone Bredariol (Yes—again. *dreamy sigh*) 

©2022 what sandra thinks