Nash Reynolds is the man of many dreams. Just not mine. He checks off plenty of boxes. Wealthy, brilliant, hot, and with a southern drawl that makes my toes curl. Oops. Not my toes. I don't need a man. I most definitely don't need Nash Reynolds. He might've come along at a time when I could use a distraction, but the answer is still no. My ex taught me plenty of lessons. The most important one: never count on any...