Here goes...When Baba mentioned this book to me, there was no doubt in my mind I'll like it. Even love it. What I didn't know then is how excellent, unforgettable, beautiful it'll turn out to be, how much I'll enjoy reading it, and how unexpectedly emotional it is. And more. Much more than that. But, you'll have to read it yourself to figure that out...“All my life, or as long as I can remember, I thought something special was going to happen to me. I just had this feeling, deep in my bones. I didn’t know what it was but it was going to be beautiful, spectacular, huge.” I leaned in further. “All… my… life.” I shook my head again and put my hand on the bar. “It didn’t. I waited and it didn’t happen. I waited more and it didn’t happen. I waited more and it still didn’t happen. I tried to make it happen and it still didn’t happen. Now I know it isn’t going to. It’s never going to happen because there isn’t anything special out there to happen.”What I loved right at the very beginning, is the fact that Lauren is forty two. It just seems that there are too many stories out there about a twenty-something heroine and thirty-something hero. Not this one. And that got my attention right away.Lauren is divorced, and on the mission to find peace. Nothing special.Finding a job at a nothing-special bar, and a room at a nothing-special hotel with good (but nothing-special) pool, she kind of stumbles on something-really-special Jackson-guy. Too bad he's a jerk."Jesus, Krys, maybe you wanna talk to me before you hire some sorry-ass, old, fat, suburban bitch to drag around our goddamned bar?"See? A jerk!Not everyone could be gorgeous, like him. Not everyone could have fantastic bone structure, like him. Not everyone could have thick, gorgeous hair, like him. Not everyone could have a beautiful body, like him. Most of that (maybe not the body, because that would take work) he inherited from his parents! He was just lucky! Not everyone was that lucky, especially not me. What a jerk!I really didn't like Tate (Jackson) at the beginning. Oh, I adored the way he looks (who wouldn't?!), but he was... well, a jerk! And, Lauren had enough of that in her life already. I mean, her (ex) husband cheated on her with her best friend for five years!Where in the Divorce Rulebook did it say I had to say good-bye? All the good-byes that needed to be said were said that night he told me he didn’t love me anymore but he loved the woman who I’d spent two years confiding in that I was worried something was wrong in my marriage and I would rather die than lose my husband.You don't need more of that. And, you don't need a jerk after that.As much as I didn't like Tate at first, I more than liked Lauren. She's one brave woman. A babbling drama queen at times, but brave. And with attitude!Naturally, the story evolves, and it turns out that Tate can be really sweet and caring guy at times. As much as Lauren can be a real bitch at times, so those two seem kind of good for each other.“Two kinds of women get under your skin. The ones who do damage, they don’t feel good there but once you’re fuckin’ stupid enough to let them in you got no choice but to take the time it takes to work them out. Then there are the ones who don’t do damage, who feel good there, feed the muscle, the bone, the soul, not rip it or break it or burn it. The ones you don’t wanna work out.”Tate had his own share of damage-doer women in his life. He needed a break from that, and he most definitely needed the one he doesn't wanna work out. Lauren needed someone who'd show her she doesn't need to wait for something special. That she actually is something special.And, what a fine job he did showing it to her... and what a fine job she did not doing damage...Two things (beside the gorgeous looks) bought me, and made me put Tate Jackson on the all-time-favorite man list. First, there's the tattoo. Hot, mean, biker (jerk) guy with an oh-so-hot tattoo. Seriously, I do need a warning, or I just swoon so much it's alarming.Second, there's this:"Tatum Jackson owned a beautiful, dainty cat. He did not own a German Shepherd or a Rottweiler. He owned a dainty cat. And he cradled it, the cat’s lower body resting on his forearm, the cat’s tail gliding across his bicep, the cat’s front paws straddling Tate’s wrist and the cat’s head resting in Tate’s big hand. It was purring loudly because Tate’s fingers were giving it scratches and I understood that, I purred in my way too when Tate’s fingers were in my hair."Once Captain (Tate) and Ace (Lauren) got their relationship (at least partially) sorted out, there were some pretty funny/heart-tugging/hilarious moments.Funny:“Sheets are chick territory,” he said without delay. “You gotta use tools, that’s dick territory.”“Oh,” I whispered.“Don’t tread on dick territory,” he advised.Heart-tugging:I’d told him I loved him. I did, of course, love him. Though I’d only just figured that out and then blurted it out, but it was true. I was in a pool in a Nowheresville town with a man who preferred to watch me doing handstands with his son than check out twenty-something girls. A man who called his son Bub and held him in the curve of his arm as he shook off sleep. A man who called me Ace and talked to me or made love to me when I woke up in the middle of the night, even if he was sleepy. A man who flew home with me to make sure I got to my sick Dad. A man who noticed new sheets, spoke his mind, put me on the back of his bike, was nothing but himself and was great in the shower.“I need you to say it again,” he told me.“Why?” I asked, my voice pitching higher.“So I can say it back, Ace.”My body locked and I stared up at him.“You –?” I breathed.“Yeah,” he cut me off.Oh.My.God.Hilarious:“I could make better pie-type love with a new stove!”I heard his disembodied voice shout back, “Dick territory, babe. Don’t even think about it unless I’m there.”“Chick territory,” I kept shouting. “A stove’s in the kitchen!”“It’s got a plug and weighs over fifty pounds. Totally dick,” he shot back on his own shout.I gave in, turning to the plants while giggling. Totally dick. My old man was funny.All this, and I haven't even mentioned all the glorious characters that made this book even better (if that's possible), all the steaming, hot, over the top sex that goes on, all the intense (and I mean intense) moments, all the... get it?No, I had no idea who the killer is. Not a clue. And, I tried to figure it out. A lot.Yes, I loved Jonas. Such a cute, sweet kid, kind of a ten-going-on-sixteen attitude (I mean MILF, for crying out loud!), but like father like son. No surprise there.Huge, colossal five stars!And, Ms. Ashley is on my list of favorite authors, as of this moment.