My pool boy is fifteen years younger than me and should be completely off limits, so why can't I stop thinking about him?
Megan
I was the last to know my husband had traded me in for a younger model and was fooling around on me. The new pool we installed out in back didn't give us the fresh start I hoped it would, and now I'm a rudderless, fifty-year-old divorcee.
The only bright spot of my week is watching my hot A.F. pool boy swagger around my yard in his swimming trunks. All broad shoulders, and muscles glistening in the sun, Liam's better than any fantasy I could dream up. And when we talk, he makes me laugh. I swear, his visits give me life.
I guess my feelings don't matter now. Once I sell the house, I'll never see him again.
Liam
For all these months, I've had to hold myself back from interfering between Megan and her lying husband. Time and time again when I'd be working on their pool, I'd overhear him treating Megan like garbage. It made my blood boil.
Now that they've finalized their divorce, it's my turn. This is my chance to treat her like the dynamic, drop dead gorgeous, curvy stunner she is.
Once I finally claim Megan, she'll believe me when I tell her that age is just a number, and nothing will stop me from making her mine forever.
