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“Knock on our door whenever you want,” Gibson adds.
Leia groans. “You’re going to regret those words.”
I scowl. “Why? You don’t enjoy playing with your own kid?”
She rears back. “What’s with the accusation? I meant my Isla has the energy of ten chihuahua puppies who were given espresso for breakfast.”
Isla giggles. “Mom’s silly. Everyone knows puppies can’t have coffee.”
Leia wraps her arm around her daughter. “Come on, daughter of mine who knows entirely too much about a puppy she’ll never have. Let’s go eat.”
“Bye!” Isla waves as they walk across the yard.
“You’ve got your work cut out with her.” Jett slaps me on the shoulder.
“Don’t worry. We’ve got your back.” Gibson slaps my ass on his way inside the house.
“I don’t need your help.”
Jett chuckles. “Um, yeah, you do.”
“No,” I snarl.
Gibson shakes his finger at me. “Don’t you worry, grumpapottamus. Jett and Gibson are on the job.”
“I’m an excellent wingman,” Jett proclaims.
“He is,” Gibson agrees. “He’s been my wingman for years.”
Jett shoves him. “I’m not your wingman. But I’ll be Fender’s.”
The two numbskulls can argue about the traits of a wingman all they want. I don’t need a wingman. I don’t want a woman.
And I certainly don’t want Leia. No matter how much my fingers long to thread through her blonde curly locks of hair whenever she’s near. My cock twitches in my pants. He wants in on the action. He’ll have to settle for my hand.
Chapter 5
Gossip gals – five elderly women who enjoy confusing the snot out of new residents of Winter Falls
Leia
I enter Bake Me Happy with Isla where she announces to the man behind the counter, “I get a treat because I did good today.”
“What did you do?” he asks.
“I helped the little kids learn their ABCs.” Isla beams and my stomach warms with pride.
Any guilt about forcing her to attend activities at the community center all day during the summer vacation while I work disappears. She’s having fun and learning stuff. She’s okay. No. She’s more than okay. She’s thriving. Moving to Winter Falls was the right decision.
“What do you want for a treat, Isla?” the man asks and I gasp. How does he know her name? We’ve never been inside this bakery before.
He winks at me. “There is no such thing as privacy in Winter Falls, Leia Wilson, personal assistant to Brody Bragg.”
I knew small town living would be different. But this is crazy. Before I have a chance to figure out a response, he speaks again, “And I’m Bryan. This is my place.”
A man nearly as big as Fender enters the bakery from the kitchen. “No, it isn’t.”
Bryan rolls his eyes. “I allow him to think he’s the boss of me.”
