About the Book
RC Boldt's fourth book in the Teach Me series shows us that sometimes the perfect person for you is the one you least expected it to be ...
Langley Ford is the definition of serious. Going through life as a pararescue jumper, working solely around men, she’s had to go above and beyond to prove she’s their equal. In fact, she can’t recall the last time she allowed herself to truly relax or let her guard down.
Always the one others rely on to crack jokes, the one to liven things up, Lawson Briggs is a fun, easygoing guy who doesn’t take life too seriously. But witnessing so many of his friends falling in love, he begins to wonder what the fuss is about. Will he ever fall prey to that infamous “love bug”?
Langley is now out of the military and working at a security consulting firm. When she meets the tall, bearded teacher who has endless wisecracks and comments, a part of her wishes she could be like him, wishes she could remember how.
While Lawson might be the best person to teach her how to live life to the fullest, will Langley be the one who teaches him all about love?
It appeared as though she were checking him out, taking inventory of his attire. “Don’t look like you’re ready for a day at the beach.” Pause. “Looks more like you’re planning on … running?”
“Oh? Who are you planning on running with?” she asked in mock confusion, glancing around.
“Ah, we’ve got a comedian on our hands, do we?”
Her lips curved up. “I learned from the best.” Raising the hem of her tank top to swipe at the sweat on her face, she granted him a glimpse of her firm, toned abs.
“Quit checking me out.” His eyes jerked up to see her smirking. “Now, are we running or not, Briggs?”
He made a face. “Not?”
She shoved him playfully but, hell, she didn’t realize her own strength. Rubbing the spot on his shoulder that would likely be bit sore the next day, he let out a dramatic sigh.
“Be gentle with me. I am but a new butterfly spreading my wings—”
“Yeah, all I heard was
“Laws, I’m disgusting.” She reached up as if to wipe off her sweat from his upper lip, which had been transferred to him during the brief kiss.
Moving out of her reach, he playfully swatted at her hand. “Please. Think of it as leaving your mark on me. Kind of like dogs peeing on trees. You’ve just marked me with your sweat.” He shook his head in mock sadness. “No other woman out there in this world will be able to have me now. I’m allllll yours.”
She stared at him for a moment. “Sometimes, I wonder about you.”
He shrugged. “I get that a lot.”
“Are you ready yet?”
“No,” he answered quickly before letting out a long sigh. “But, here goes nothing.” Holding up his index finger, he added, “I’d like to say that, should I not survive this, I would like to leave behind my guitar to Kane, my favorite coffee mug to Zach, and my porn stash to you.”
Turning away, about to replace her earbud, she muttered, “Of course you have a porn stash.”
“Lee, I don’t have a porn stash. It was a joke,” he told her, rolling his eyes.
“Lee.” His tone was serious. “Truth?”
He felt the weight of her gaze, even beneath those dark sunglasses. “Truth,” she said, slowly.
“I don’t have one. I don’t like that kind of thing.” Head cocked to the side, he smirked. “But if you want me to tell you about the other night when I fantasized about this really hot, gorgeous, badass former PJ doing some naughty things to me—”
Her hand shot out as if to stop him. “I don’t need to hear your fantasies about Pearce.”
He laughed. “Damn it. Now you know my secrets.”
“Time to run.” With that, she put her earbud back in, signifying the end to their conversation.
Of course, that tiny little twitch at the corners of her lips didn’t slip past him. Nope. Sure didn’t. His Lee thought he was funny.
About the Author
RC Boldt is the wife of Mr. Boldt, a retired Navy Chief, mother of Little Miss Boldt, and former teacher of many students. She currently lives on the southeastern coast of North Carolina, enjoys long walks on the beach, running, reading, people watching, and singing karaoke. If you're in the mood for some killer homemade mojitos, can't recall the lyrics to a particular 80's song, or just need to hang around a nonconformist who will do almost anything for a laugh, she's your girl.