Bridger Bradford was in love. Not with South Korea, although certain of its charms were growing on him, and certainly not with that lanky c**k-tease Travis, the not-so-hot pursuit of whom had flung him there. But he had indeed found love in Korea, and it mattered little to him that it was imaginary.
As the cornerstone of his plan to seduce the chocolate-eyed leader of a campus church group, Bridger had traveled abroad for the first time. Affable and good-looking in the manner of the best friend on a fifties sit-com, with only a thin layer of chub in those days to keep his muscles warm, he was accustomed to having his amorous advances returned with gusto, and didn’t like having to take no for an answer from this particular tall drink of water. Having joined the church group’s choir in the
