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Retreat.

Every once in a while, you need to get away from it all. I was a woman on the edge, shaken and shattered after a breakup that felt like it tore my entire world apart. My best friend, sick of watching me drown in misery and melancholy, harassed me until I agreed to go with her on a week-long wilderness retreat. She promised days spent bonding and getting in touch with our inner bad-asses. It was supposed to be all about the two of us roughing it and making do with the bare minimum. She assured me we were going to be pushed to our limits in ways that were unimaginable. Neither one of us could have ever guessed just how right she was. Nowhere in the glossy brochure did it say anything about the fact I was going to have to battle the insufferable but deliciously rugged and sexy trail guide instead of the elements. The brochure also forgot to mention the part that warned when y ou left civilization behind, there was no place to pack your inhibitions and fears. I was told that I would be facing a week where the only thing I should expect was the unexpected. However, no one mentioned that I was going to have to fight for my life…and my heart as soon as I ventured into the unknown. I was a pro at hiding from my feelings but when it came time to face a real threat, one that could change everything, I learned I was more of a no surrender, no retreat kind of girl. Retreat is created by Jay Crownover, an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

Jay Crownover · Urban
Not enough ratings
54 Chs

Chapter 50: No Time to Waste Part 2

Chapter 50: No Time to Waste Part 2

Tight faded blue jeans held up with a buckle the size of my head at the center of that trim and toned waist. A broad chest covered in a well-fitted, plaid shirt with pearl snaps on the front and black piping along the seams. The cowboy boots on his feet looked as new as the ones I wore last time I saw him, but the black Stetson on his dark head was well loved and looked unbelievable on him. There still weren’t any leather chaps or a Sam Elliott mustache, but he had left his facial hair so that it was now trimmed into a perfectly groomed goatee. He was a western dream come true, and he looked so good, and I missed him so much, I couldn’t make words come out of my mouth. We stared at each other in rapt silence for a long minute until I heard my grandma’s voice squawk over the phone asking me if I was still there.