Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 27438 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27438 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
He smirks, but there’s no humor there. “We had different experiences.”
“Let me show you.” His gaze whips up to mine in surprise. “Let me prove to you that not only is owning this building a great investment, but that mine and Maisey’s businesses are important to this community.”
“How do you propose to do that? Show me your ledgers?”
“No, I’m going to do better than that. How long are you staying?”
“I’m leaving as soon as possible.”
I frown, not sure why that hurts my heart as badly as it does. Standing here, talking to him like this, feels so good. I don’t want him to leave.
“Can you give me a week?” Why didn’t I think of this sooner? This is brilliant!
“A week?”
I nod, and watch as the wheels in his head start to spin. “I want one week. You can hang out in the shop as much or as little as you want, my only request is that you help build and deliver one order a day for the next week. An order that I choose.”
“Look, Brooke, I appreciate that you have a business to run, but so do I. This is just business. It isn’t personal.”
“Not to me it isn’t just business, and if you agree to do this, you’ll see why.”
He shakes his head and pushes his hand through his hair, the same way he used to when he was young and frustrated with me, which wasn’t often.
But it’s even sexier now.
“I don’t really have time to stay for the week.”
I cock my head to the side, watching him.
“What do you do in San Francisco?”
“I’m an engineer. I build bridges.”
I feel my eyes widen, and I hold my hand up for a high-five. He laughs and obliges, and I can’t help but notice how warm his palm is against mine.
“Good for you, Brody. That’s awesome. I’d like to hear more about it. Over the next week.”
He laughs now and paces away from me, then back.
“You’re as stubborn now as you were at fifteen.”
“No, I’m much more stubborn now.”
He shakes his head, watching me with hot eyes. This isn’t the way a teenager would look at me.
This is a man.
And holy crap, he’s potent, and hotter than ever.
But he’s also a stranger now, and the owner of my building. I need to keep it that way.
“Do it for me,” I say, batting my eyelashes. I smile as he breaks out into a laugh.
“I never could tell you no. But, Brooke, just because I’m going to do this with you doesn’t mean that I’m not selling this building.”
“I know.” You’re not selling. I’ll talk you out of it. “Can you start tomorrow?”
“The sooner the better. I have some calls to make.”
He walks me out and we stop in front of the shop. “You won’t regret this,” I say and pat his bicep, then blink rapidly at the rock-hard muscles I come in contact with. Jesus, he’s just… hard.
“Oh, I think that’s probably the biggest lie you’ve ever told.” He winks and walks down the street. I can’t take my eyes off his backside. His broad shoulders.
We both might live to regret it.
Chapter Two
~Brody~
Well, that didn’t go as planned.
I was supposed to be in Cunningham Falls for a grand total of fourteen hours before I got back on a plane to San Francisco, leaving Montana in the rear-view for good.
Instead, I just agreed to spend a week delivering flowers.
Am I out of my fucking mind?
I shake my head as I walk down the sidewalk, past restaurants and shops, toward my car. It took me forever to find a place to park today. I guess Cunningham Falls isn’t quite as sleepy as it was when I was young.
Yes, it would seem I am out of my mind. At least, when I’m around Brooke. I never could tell her no, and it looks like that hasn’t changed at all.
Brooke is a different story. I wasn’t lying when I said she hasn’t aged a bit. Her face is still fresh and sweet, that mole above her lip making my heart thump in my chest and my dick twitch in ways it never did when I was fifteen.
But the rest of her? Jesus H. Christ, she’s become a sexy woman. She’s curvier, and carries those curves well on her small frame. I wanted to boost her up on that counter top, wrap her stiletto-tipped legs around my hips, and get acquainted with her in a whole new way.
And I’m pretty sure that makes me an asshole.
“Brody? Brody Chabot?”
I stop, scowl, and turn, shocked as fuck that someone would recognize me. But the scowl falls away when I see Mrs. Blakely sweeping the sidewalk in front of Little Deli, the restaurant she’s owned on Main Street since before I can remember.
“Mrs. Blakely.” I lean in to kiss her cheek and she pats my arm, similar to the way Brooke did, but my body’s response is completely different this time. “How are you?”