The Braddock Boys: Brent. Kimberly Raye
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She’d checked into the room right next to his. Forget pushing her out of his head and avoiding her for the next few weeks. He was sure to run into her again. That and there was no escaping the fact that he was a vampire. Meaning, despite sheetrock and tacky wallpaper, he would be able to hear her. Smell her. Feel her. Want her.
Like hell.
He keyed the ignition, shoved the car into reverse and peeled out of the parking lot. And then he headed for his brother’s place.
6
THE FAMILIAR ROAR of an engine echoed in Abby’s ears and awareness rippled through her. She glanced at the motel room door and fought down the sudden urge to haul it open and see who was outside.
But she already knew.
The notion struck and she quickly pushed it aside. Just because the engine was loud, didn’t mean it belonged to a ‘67 Camaro. That was her own wishful thinking caused by deprived hormones and a desperate lack of sleep.
She gave herself a mental shake and forced her attention back to the old woman standing in front of her.
“… looks like you got lucky tonight.” Winona Adkins wore a blue and orange flower print dress, a pair of sagging knee-high panty-hose and white orthopedic shoes. “This is the only room we have open on account of the rodeo is in town, so we upgraded you. This here’s the executive suite.”
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