A Hellhound in Hollywood
“Seated at our table, the strip light above us bright and harsh, I was able to take a long, assessing look at Ty. Although part of me wished otherwise, I liked what I saw. I’d called my mother while Ty had been in his room and she’d confirmed the story he’d given me. In fact, my mother had had nothing but good things to say about the ‘charming, Southern gentleman’ as she’d called him. Tyler Braddock was, by all accounts, a damn good hunter. That was high praise indeed, coming from someone with m...y mother’s exacting standards.
A good six inches taller than my five foot five frame, Ty’s body was far bulkier than many of the other male hunters I’d worked with. His neatly trimmed fair hair and facial features were so damned perfect they belonged on the cover of GQ. A light dusting of stubble dotted his strong jaw. I’d always been attracted to rugged men and he embodied the term. When he wore his cowboy hat, I could imagine him riding a horse around a coral or out mending fences in the middle of the day, his chest bare and dripping with sweat.MoreLess
A good six inches taller than my five foot five frame, Ty’s body was far bulkier than many of the other male hunters I’d worked with. His neatly trimmed fair hair and facial features were so damned perfect they belonged on the cover of GQ. A light dusting of stubble dotted his strong jaw. I’d always been attracted to rugged men and he embodied the term. When he wore his cowboy hat, I could imagine him riding a horse around a coral or out mending fences in the middle of the day, his chest bare and dripping with sweat.MoreLess
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