So apparently when you’re running from the mob, you’re not supposed to break into random billionaires’ houses and eat their cereal. Who knew?
Now I’m stuck on K MacLaine’s ranch with my judgmental cat, pretending I’m definitely not attracted to Mr. Tall, Dark, and Emotionally Unavailable.
He keeps trying to “save” me with his Navy SEAL skills and pancake-making abilities, which is really inconvenient since I’m trying to save myself.
But between dodging bullets and stealing his hoodies, I’m starting to think this grumpy cowboy might be worth the trouble.
Assuming we both survive my spectacularly bad life choices.
