“Just about,” I answered with a shrug. “I don’t know you.”
He said nothing for a long time, just kept staring at me as if trying to yank my deepest, darkest secrets from my body. Helicked his lips—good god—and then walked around the fountain so we were face to face. “I’m Brock.” He held out a large hand with short, clipped nails and waited patiently.
Brock. It was such a masculine name. Rich and masculine. Out of my league.Damn it, there is no league!“It’s nice to meet you, Brock.” I put my hand in his and watched as his hand consumed mine, focusing on that to avoid the blazing hot electricity that arced between us.
“Nice to meet you, Sela. That’s such a unique name.” He held my hand in his for longer than was appropriate, but I couldn’t bring myself to remove it. “You wouldn’t happen to be a realtor, would you?”
I laughed. “I’m not. Sorry, just a waitress.”
“Nobody isjustanything.” His words charmed the panties right off me. I would have handed them over right then and there if it wasn’t so cold outside.
“Krista Jensen,” I said and finally pulled my hand from his to grab my phone. “She can help you find a place to rent or to buy.”
Amusement sparkled in his eyes. “So you really do know everyone. You know Lee?”
“Lancaster? Yeah, his resort just opened on the edge of town.” It was an odd question. “I don’t know him well enough to get you an introduction or anything like that.”
He laughed. “No need. We’re old friends.”
Of course. That explained the expensive-looking clothes and that air of sophistication that surrounded him. “Of course. Good luck with your search.”
“Can I buy you a coffee or tea?”
Good god, yes!I shook my head. Coffee was the precursor to dinner, which was the appetizer for sex and love and an eventual breakup. “No, but we can walk together to the coffee shop, and I’ll get my second dose of caffeine for the day.”
His dark brows dipped in confusion. “Why can’t I buy you a coffee?”
I could have given him a flirty answer, but I wanted to be honest and real. I was tired of trying to fit myself into what I thought the mandu jourwanted me to be. Now, I would just be me. If someone didn’t like it, that was their problem. “Because,” I sighed and motioned to his whole body, “you’re gorgeous, kind, and really sweet, plus you seem richandsuccessful. I think—no, I know—you have heartbreak written all over you.”
He froze, stunned by my words. “I’d say thank you, but that feels decidedly uncomplimentary.”
I laughed at his honest assessment. “It is a compliment. You’d be very easy to fall for, and I’m not doing that anymore.” I patted his arm and put on my best smile, which faltered when I gripped the lump of stone posing as a bicep. “But I would like to have a coffee with you that I purchase myself. As friends.”
He flashed a relieved smile and stood closer. “I like that. Lead the way.”
This was good. Really good. The universe tempted me, but I resisted. I could do this.
Chapter 2
Brock
Mt. Holiday Bakery was as surprising as the woman beside me. Sela. Her name was as stunning as the woman herself. Her long blond hair was twisted into intricate braids, woven with feathers and gems like a lost Viking bride. It suited her perfectly, especially with her big blue eyes, pouty pink lips, and heart-shaped face. She was beautiful, that was an absolute fact. But her body? A total smoke show with curves for days, completely visible thanks to a lightweight sweater that gave me a long look at her firm, round ass and thick, shapely thighs. I couldn’t see the rest of her, but I’d bet she had a solid D-cup under that damn sweater.
“What do you think?” Sela’s voice cut through my thoughts, and I turned to look at her beside me in line and then around the bakery. It was well done, with exposed brick walls made less harsh by pastel colors that gave the place a welcoming feel. It was nothing like the gourmet coffee shops I frequented when I traveled to check in on my investments in New York, Chicago, Los Angeles, Houston, and a half dozen other cities in the United States and another dozen around the world. “It’s not fancy, butyou’ll love the coffee and the pastries.” She added nervously, misinterpreting my silence as judgment.
“It looks nice,” I said honestly. “And it smells incredible.” That much was true, but we’d already been in line for ten minutes while the woman behind the counter chatted with every single customer. I couldn’t believe I let Lee talk me into moving to this small town, and during Thanksgiving, no less. “So, what should I get?”
Sela’s blue eyes brightened as if I’d asked her favorite question. Her smile was mesmerizing, and it pulled me right in, eager to hear her thoughts. “For the coffee, you can’t go wrong with the Ethiopian or Brazilian beans. From there, it depends on how you like it. Black with sugar, I’d guess.”
My eyes widened in surprise. “How’d you guess?”
She waved at me. “You look good, well put together, I mean,” she rushed to explain, her cheeks turning pink. “The getup is nice and stylish, and the quality is top-notch. But it’s not flashy.”
She was smart and beautiful, and damn it, her disinterest only made me more intrigued. “Impressive.”
Her cheeks burned brighter. “Thanks. If only I was so insightful all the time.”
There was a story there, but I knew now wasn’t the time. “And to eat?”
