18 NoraNora beamed. Tyler Hayden was so appealing, she had to smile at him.
In his early thirties, Tyler was as tall as Kent, with raven hair and a five o’clock shadow that bristled like a trendily unshaven TV actor.
Tyler’s wool plaid shirt revealed solid shoulders and hugged a flat stomach. His denim jeans molded thighs—
She broke her gaze.
Tyler was pivoting to shut the door. She didn’t want to see his backside. Evaluating an interviewee’s ass was unprofessional.
Instead, she turned her smile on the young blonde beside him.
Linda Hayden’s loose jeans hung from wide hips. The scoop neck on her hot-pink long-sleeve T-shirt showed D-cup cleavage.
With her tousled blonde bob, Linda looked plump and ripe. Like she’d been special-designed to birth and suckle babies.
Her blue eyes spar
