Fixing Him, an all-new romantic standalone from Miranda Elaine is available now!

One summer.

Three months.

Ninety days spent learning every inch of Sam Matthews’ body.

We agreed to no strings when our time was up.

We promised we could both handle this.

I lied.

I never expected to fall for this man or this town.

This was just supposed to be a stop on the way to starting my real life.

But now, time is up and everything feels wrong.

He says I’m too young.

He says I’m too innocent.

He says he’s not the type to settle down.

He’s fixing my newly inherited home.

Now, I’m fixing his frame of mind.

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Excerpt:

“Fuck,” I cry out as we near the cabin. All afternoon it’s been drizzling but not enough to stop our day out by the water. We’re almost back when we hear the first bout of thunder. It’s deafeningly loud but thankfully not too close . . . yet. “We should hurry up. Pick up the pace, old man.” She jumps with each thunderclap. “I could probably go a little faster if you weren’t on my back.” I look over my shoulder and her smile is from ear to ear. “Wasn’t my idea to hike five miles along the river shore, over rocky hills, and through snake-infested woods. I brought two pairs of shorts, two shirts, two swimsuits, and miscellaneous underwear. But someone forgot to mention the need for sneakers on this surprise vacation.” “I’m not complaining about you being plastered to me.” I hold her thighs in my hands a tad bit tighter than necessary. I feel the first drop of real rain hit the top of my head. She wiggles free, scooting down my back, ready to make a run for the cabin when a huge downpour hits us. I’m about to take off running, her hand in mine when I feel resistance on the end of my arm. “What’s wrong?” I ask as she keeps her feet planted firmly to the ground as the wind and rain pick up all around us. Her loose blond waves are already drenched and the white top she’s wearing is now sheer and damp, showing off the bathing suit top beneath it. “It’s our rain moment. We have to kiss,” she informs me as if I’m supposed to understand what she’s talking about. “What are you talking about, sweets? Did lightning strike you?” “No, Sam. Haven’t you ever watched a romantic comedy? If you are caught in the rain with someone you’re spending time with in a sexual way, then you are by law required to kiss.” “It’s the law, is it?” I ask with one eyebrow raised. “According to romantic comedy movies?” “Duh. Now, I know we are temporary. But I’m not sure how often you get stuck in the rain with someone you enjoy being naked with, but this is a first for me. On the chance that it’s the last time, I want my kiss.” I feel a pain in my chest at the thought of her leaving. When we started it felt like we had all the time in the world to spend wrapped in each other, but with each passing day, I yearn to spend the next with her, but each one is one day closer to fall and her starting the life she deserves to live. Not one trapped in a small town where the man she’s with main focus has to be his handicapped dad. I do what I need to do to make sure that when she leaves here she leaves forever dreaming of our time together. With the rain pouring down on us I lean over and start by placing a gentle kiss on her lips. Grabbing her ass in my hands, I hoist her up my torso, encouraging her legs to wrap around my body so I can lean her against a nearby tree. The kiss is instantly hot. I lick the seam of her lips, demanding entry. She doesn’t fight me; my Montana is always open and ready and oh so eager. The thunder is nearing us, but all I can hear are the moans in her throat as her tongue tangles with mine. Time is moving at a standstill as I kiss her slow, deep, and with the eagerness of someone not ready to let go.

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Fixing Her

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About Miranda:

Miranda is a loving wife and barely surviving mother of three occasionally good kids. Her hobbies include lying to herself about the calories in donuts and banana pudding, as well as running out of excuses when procrastinating. She's been an avid reader since she was a young girl. Whether she's by the pool, curled up in bed, or hiding in the closet, as long as she has a book in her hands she’s happy.