I had my future all mapped out.
A respectable engagement, marriage, a home, and then babies.
It was a good plan, or so I thought.
Until the jerk-who-won't-be-named broke it off and called me the 'F' word.
Frigid.
So, I did what any self-respecting southern girl would do-I made a plan.
Find a hot guy. ¿
Make him my Mr. Right for the Night. ¿¿
Prove I'm not a prude. ¿¿¿
What I didn't plan on, was the hot guy being the biggest commitment-phobe in our Small Town.
Or the baby we created that night.
Or falling for him...