Waiting on Love

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After a disastrous vacation breakup with the man who was supposed to be The One, KK O’Brien decides she’s done. Love will find her when the time is right.

On her flight home, she’s seated next to a male soldier, Aidan Dominguez, whom she ignores, because one: he is male (a trait she’s recently excised from her mind), two: he’s younger than her, and three: he’s on his way to be deployed overseas (geographically undesirable). When weather grounds her flight, she agrees to a drink and more with Aidan. After all, he’s leaving the country and she’s done projecting hope and wedding bells onto encounters with men. KK knows this is nothing more than a one-night stand with an extremely sexy soldier. It’s practically her patriotic duty to send him off to war with a good last memory.

Aidan and KK have a great night together and they part with the expectation that they’ll never see each other again. Only, a few weeks later, the first email from Aidan arrives. Once she replies, another arrives, and soon an epistolary love affair blossoms where love was never supposed to grow. When Aidan asks for a shot at being her man, KK must decide if she’s brave enough to take another chance on love.

ISBN: 978-0-9863557-1-4

Excerpt:

I paused my blackening of the glossy magazine page, which by this point had several gashes on it. His idea had merit, but no, I wasn’t much of a confessor except to my best friend, Andi. Only this time I wasn’t looking forward to rehashing my horrible weekend with her. She’d warned me not to follow Ben out to Phoenix for his work conference. But stupid KK, always dashing headfirst after love.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I finally told Aidan. “I was an idiot, but I’m not anymore. I’ve changed my entire philosophy on life this morning. You’re looking at a smarter KK O’Brien.”

Instead of looking impressed, Aidan looked amused. “Your entire philosophy? Really? In just a morning. I’m impressed. It takes most people at least a day.”

I didn’t know him well enough to punch him not-so-lightly on the arm, so he had to settle for my best scathing look. “I was speaking metaphorically.”

“Sounded hyperbolically to me,” he said.

“I’m impressed a teenager such as yourself knows such a big word.” If he could dish it, surely he could take it. My words rolled off him as easily as desert sand soaked up a raindrop.

He grinned. “I’m twenty-four. Not a teenager.”

“And I’m thirty, so to me you are an infant.”

“I’m old enough,” he said with a sexy smile that had me revisiting my re-virginized state. No, he was six years younger than me. Too young.

“Old enough for what?” I asked, falling into his snare.

“Old enough for everything you’d want to use me for.” His look told me exactly how he’d like to be used, and whoa momma, perhaps six years wasn’t the hurdle I’d thought it’d been.

“You wish,” I said, finally daring to give him that light punch on his biceps. I couldn’t help be myself around him; he was too outgoing and friendly to ignore. It was like punching the shell of the airplane, only harder and alive with warm skin.

All his humor was suddenly gone, and he leaned in slightly toward me. “I do wish, Kristen Katherine. I’m wishing for a lot of things right now.”