What do my best friend's dad and baked apple pie have in common? They’re both hot, and best enjoyed on the kitchen table.
There are two reasons I stayed in Raven Falls.
One: Mr. Dalton.
Two: his daughter, Pam—who also happens to be my best friend... But I don’t let that stop me.
I’d crawl over broken glass just to be near him—to breathe in the sweat and sawdust, to watch those worn blue jeans ride low, the faded white T-shirt stretch across his massive frame. And his hands�...
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What do my best friend's dad and baked apple pie have in common? They’re both hot, and best enjoyed on the kitchen table.
There are two reasons I stayed in Raven Falls.
One: Mr. Dalton.
Two: his daughter, Pam—who also happens to be my best friend... But I don’t let that stop me.
I’d crawl over broken glass just to be near him—to breathe in the sweat and sawdust, to watch those worn blue jeans ride low, the faded white T-shirt stretch across his massive frame. And his hands—rough, mill-hardened hands—look made to ruin me in all the right ways. He makes me ache, and I don’t even try to hide it.
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