Being Yours
She wandered to the balcony and watched the moon reflect on the water of the river, silvering a rippled path that seemed to arrow right into her heart the way Cliff’s kiss had.
No. He was too old. He really didn’t like her. He was all she’d said, and more. If he showed glimpses of a compassionate and caring nature, that was all they were, merely glimpses, flickers of something that likely didn’t exist outside her own ~ and Ann’s imagination.
But then Ann was as big a romantic as Lynne’s friend Janice.
She, on the other hand, was not a romantic. Not that she didn’t believe in romance. She did. She expected to find it some day, but she did not expect to find it in a man like Cliff Foreman.
Bab Populer