“Who says I’m a bachelor?”
“Lee,” she answered easily with a knowing expression in her eyes.
“Where is my talkative friend anyway?”
Her smile brightened. “He’s busy making sure everything is just right for your welcome dinner. Mac is in town, and Ryan, my brother, is coming too.”
Sela stood as she finished off her coffee. “I have to run. It was nice meeting you, Brock. Nix, that strudel is going to cost me ten extra pounds. Keep up the great work.” She handed me a sheet of paper, and I wondered if it was her phone number. “Good luck with the house hunt,” she said and left.
I looked down and saw the name Krista J, the realtor.
Nix laughed. “You seem disappointed it wasn’t Sela’s number.”
I shrugged. “Only a little. She thinks I’ll break her heart.” I wasn’t in the habit of breaking hearts. I’d been on the wrong end of heartbreak before and never wanted to revisit it, so maybe Sela did us both a favor.
“She’s not wrong,” Nix sighed. “Not that you’d do it on purpose, but you’re like Lee, except not grumpy, which makes you a unicorn. Hot, kind, and charming.”
“Don’t forget rich.”
“That’s just a bonus,” she said dismissively. “Lee is rich, but have you seen him naked?” She wiggled her brows.
“There’s that oversharing we talked about, Nix.”
She laughed. “I’m just saying, the money is nice, but the abs are nicer. You’ll see.”
“Now that’s a unicorn,” I shot back with a smile, suddenly a little happier to be stuck in this small town for the foreseeable future.
Chapter 3
Sela
I am NOT thinking about the ebony-haired hottie.
I told myself that no less than fifty times since I arrived at the Holiday Grove Food Bank three hours ago. Brock was everything a man should be, and if I wason menagain, I’d be really interested in him. Obsessively interested in him.
But now, I just found him a nice piece of eye candy. And a good conversationalist, which was surprising. He lit up when he talked about his job and how he got into it, which was refreshing. I envied him that. I wanted that for myself.
“Sela, my dear. Aren’t you as pretty as a picture!” Edith Rockwell strolled into the Food Bank, where I was packing boxes for Thanksgiving, wearing a lime green tracksuit with bright white sneakers. “If I had that body, I’d wear something a little more show-off-y.”
I laughed. “Good afternoon to you too, Edith.” The woman was nearly one hundred years old and as incorrigible as they came. “You are quite colorful today.”
She laughed. “It’s the only way a woman my age can be seen. But look at my butt. It looks amazing, right?”
It was actually pretty great. “High and firm. Amazing indeed.” We shared a laugh, and I went back to packing canned and boxed goods for the needy families of Holiday Grove. “Are you here to drop off more food?”
“Yep. I have a few boxes in my trunk.” She dangled the keys between us, and like a dutiful daughter, I took them and retrieved the boxes. “Everyone donated a few things, and most of it is perfect for Thanksgiving.”
That was a relief. For a few years before Mom remarried, when my dad left us without a look back, holidays were tight. Without this place, we would’ve had sad holidays with bologna sandwiches and boxed mashed potatoes.
“Here, let me help.” Jane Moon showed up out of nowhere to take one of the boxes from me. “You’re doing this on your own?”
I nodded. “The other volunteer didn’t show, and Edith brought more food. What are you doing here?” Jane was yet another do-gooder in town, but she wasn’t on the schedule today.
“Oh, I figured I’d come to see if you needed a hand.” Her tone was a little too breezy, and that put me on edge.
“I won’t turn down the help,” I laughed. “If I see another can of cranberry sauce or turkey in a can, I might scream.” I didn’t mind helping. It was fulfilling to pass on the good fortune this place gave me when I was a young, needy kid, but turkey in a can was and always would be wrong.
Jane set her box down with a grunt and turned a smile my way. “So,” she began, stretching the word into four syllables, “rumor has it that you had coffee with a rich bachelor.”
