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Standing with her arms folded across her chest, Ronnie nodded. “Yes, big brother. It’s a small town. I know. We all know. And I’m tired of tiptoeing around the issue. It’s turning you into a bitter, angry, jerk and I’m sick of it. So the cat’s out of the bag now, and we can all freaking deal with it.”

Her eyes shifted to his right then back to his face. “Mickie is coming back. We’ll talk about this at home.”

“Fuck,” he spat out. “This is none of your business, Veronica.”

The glare she gave him let him know she thought he was the dumbest person in the room.

“Goddammit.” He yanked out his wallet, tossed a twenty on the bar, and spun only to slam straight into Michaela.

“Sorry!” she yelped as she clutched his arms for support.

Damn, her tits were soft where they’d mashed into his chest. That meant they were probably real. Huh, he hadn’t been expecting anything on the woman to be real.

“I was, uh, looking at the screen and I didn’t see you,” she said with a wince. “I accidentally fell asleep midway through last night’s game.” Gone was the shaken woman from a few moments ago. Whatever she’d done to calm herself had worked because the air of superior confidence was back.

“It’s fine. I’m on my way out and was rushing. See ya.”

“Oh, uh, bye Keith.” He was helpless to do anything but stare at her ass as she walked back to the bar where her soda waited for her.

Her soda, because she was an alcoholic.

But she liked baseball. And her tits were real.

“Whatever,” he grumbled to himself. “I’m leaving.”

Fuck this day.

CHAPTER SEVEN

FOUR DAYS LATER, Michaela was clawing the walls of her new house. She’d spent the majority of her time working on plans for some home renovations and unpacking. The house had four bedrooms, a decent sized basement, and a kitchen that would be a chef’s dream with a little updating. In truth, the house was too big for one person, but about a third of the size of the Hollywood Hills monstrosity she was selling in California. Her goal was to modernize the place and create a home she could live in for a long time.

Forever, maybe.

But for the moment, she needed out. For years, she’d barely had a moment alone, and now all she had was solo time especially since she’d been avoiding her neighbors. Ronnie had apologized for Keith after the embarrassing scene at the bar, but she’d felt it best to keep from crossing paths with him for a while. At least until her ego wasn’t as fragile. Unfortunately, that meant staying off Ronnie’s radar as well.

And since they were the only people she’d met in town, she was becoming pretty damn lonely. A side effect she’d expected to enjoy but may not be all she’d envisioned. At least she had an appointment to keep her occupied for a few hours that morning. Pretty soon, she’d be running out of streaming shows to binge.

The sun shone brightly through the windshield as she pulled the SUV into the parking lot outside a local construction company. LA was almost always bright, with photo-worthy sunsets she’d neglected to enjoy. Now away from it, she found herself enjoying the cool, crisp bite of late summer air that countered the heat of the sun. She also sat on her back porch every night watching the sun dip below the mountains.

Breathtaking in its beautiful simplicity.

The heeled ankle boots she’d chosen might not have been the wisest choice. Teetering across the gravel lot turned out to be a precarious operation. As she was halfway to the entrance, the door swung open, and a handsome man jogged toward her. “Let me help you there, ma’am,” he said, shooting her a charming smile complete with the most adorable dimples. He had a smooth-shaven face, but longer hair in a man bun at the back of his head.

“Oh, thank you,” she said, looping her arm through his. “I hadn’t budgeted an ambulance ride into my time today.”

The man laughed, making her frown. Something about him rang familiar. “Always happy to help a damsel in distress. That and to avoid being sued when someone breaks an ankle on my property.” He pulled the door open for her. “Ladies first.”

“Thank you,” she said with a smile. How come she could be relaxed and chatty with this guy while continually putting her foot in her mouth Keith?

And, ugh, why was she thinking about him?

Again.

She cleared her throat. “You said, you’re the owner? Then you must be who I have an appointment with.”

“Yes, ma’am, Jagger Benson at your service.” He gripped her hand in a firm hold, giving a solid shake, which she reciprocated even as her stomach plummeted.

“Benson?” The name croaked out of her throat as though stuck with glue.

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