Havoc.
It was a strange thing, telling a woman I barely knew that I was in love with her. But as I held her in my arms as she slept, I realised I meant every single word. It wasn’t because I had been scared of losing her that I said the words but because I meant every damn word.
Me, Havoc, was in love with the sweetest, most fiery woman in the world.
The moment she pushed herself into the bar, I should have known. There should have been trumpets and fireworks and a giant neon sign above her head that warned me. Of course, there was none of that.
There was just Darcie Summers in that damn gauzy, grey dress.
And the funniest thing of all? I wasn’t even sure she felt the same. She sure as hell hadn’t planned on making me love her. Which left me open for all sorts of heartache that I wa
