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“What does yard work count as?” she asked him. “The first round?”
“Sure.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “Just the start of the first round, though.”
“I can’t wait to see the knockout.”
“You’ll have to. It’s not happening until Friday.”
That was four days away. She wasn’t sure she could stand the anticipation. “That long?”
“I asked for two weeks. It’s less than one.”
“You kind of had me at the coffee and pastries this morning,” she admitted.
Michael laughed, and it warmed her. “You don’t know how good it is to hear you say that. But don’t sell yourself short. You’re worth the fight. And I’m enjoying doing it.”
“I saw you drive out of Uncle Logan’s earlier.”
“Yeah, I saw you too.”
“Why didn’t you stop and say hello?” she asked him.
“Because you were there to see your horse, not me. And I had things to do.”
“What things?”
He laughed again. “Things you’ll find out about on Friday.”
“Can’t you tell me now?” she asked, her voice sweet. She really needed to know.
“Where’s the fun in that? A few more days and all will be revealed. I promised you a knockout. I intend to give it to you.”
“All this effort,” she breathed. “I hope I’m worth it.”
“You are, sweetheart. There’s no doubt in my mind.”
* * *
On Tuesday, the love letters started to arrive. She found the first one on her doorstep as she walked outside to head to work. Next to it was another coffee and a pastry, and she couldn’t help but smile as she picked them up. She slid her finger under the flap to loosen the envelope and pulled the notepaper out, unfolding it.
Dear Grace,
I’ve never been good at writing letters. I’m more of an in-the-moment kind of man. A face-to-face guy. But since I’m trying to give you space I thought I’d put into words how I feel about you.
The first time we met in the rain, I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Your hair was sticking to your face, your jacket was plastered to your skin, and you looked mad as hell.
And I think I knew even then that you’d change my life forever.
We argued. You took my cab. I thought I’d never see you again. But then I did, and it felt like fate.
It still does. And I’ve stopped trying to fight it. Instead, I’m fighting for you.
I love you.
Michael xx
She stared at his words, her breath ragged. It was only eight-thirty in the morning and she already felt emotional. Folding the note carefully, she slid it back into the envelope, grabbed her coffee and pastry, and walked to her car.
This man was going to kill her if she didn’t get the knockout soon.
