When Blake shows up after five years, I remember how much fun he was to have around. With his own brand of humor, he keeps everyone laughing. Especially me.
He’s fun, comfortable . . . until he shows romantic interest.
Blake’s never been one for settling down, but even if he were, I can’t date him. There are so many reasons. Besides the friend thing, Blake hates wine. I own a winery. He rides the rodeo circuit. I stay far away from rodeos.
A perfect match? Not at all. We’re more like two mismatched socks.
Can two odd socks really make a pair?