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Shit. Is this girl my child?
Chapter 2
Love Hill – a woman who’s made her bed and now needs to lie in it no matter how uncomfortable it is
November
Love Hill
You have to do this, Love. You need the job.
I roll my eyes at my inner voice. Of course, I need the job. I need any job I can get. My small town of Winter Falls isn’t exactly teeming with career opportunities. Assuming anyone would hire me anyway.
The whole town hates me. Trust me. The feeling is mutual.
But what if he remembers me?
I blow out a breath and shove the fear battering at my sides away. I’ll cross the ‘he remembers me’-bridge when I get to it.
I climb the stairs to the second floor of the hotel in White Bridge where Damon Bragg is currently staying. I have no idea why he’s staying here and not in Winter Falls where his brothers live and I have no idea why he needs an assistant. But I can’t be picky. A job is a job is a job.
I knock on the door and wait. When no one answers, I stick my ear to the door to listen. Maybe no one’s home? A woman giggles and a man swears.
I check my watch. It’s barely ten a.m. The ad posted on the online job board said to show up between ten and noon. Does he still have a woman here from last night?
Before I have time to wonder what’s going on, the door flies open. I gasp at the sight in front of me. Holy cows have come home.
Damon Bragg is one handsome man with his brown hair sticking up at all angles, a few days' worth of growth on his chin, and warm brown eyes. But I didn’t expect him to have a rocking body with six-pack abs and strong shoulders. Shoulders that appear strong enough to carry any burden. Must be nice.
He frowns at me but it doesn’t lessen his attractiveness one tiny bit. “I don’t know what you’re selling. But I’m not buying.”
“I’m not selling anything.”
“Good. Since I’m not buying.”
He starts to close the door, but I block it with my foot. “I’m here for an interview.”
“An interview?” Confusion clouds his eyes for a few moments before he scowls. “No. You are not watching Skye.”
I guess he remembers me and how I threw myself at him at his brother’s wedding. Like he’s one to talk.
I motion toward his topless state. “You can hardly fault me for hitting on you when you obviously don’t have a problem with one-night stands.”
His brow furrows. “One-night stands?”
“There’s no need to be coy. I heard the woman giggling.”
“Skye was giggling.”
“Good for you. You remember her name.”
“Why wouldn’t I remember her name?”
Because most men don’t remember the name of the woman they hooked up with for the night. Damon Bragg is obviously not most men. Duh. Most men don’t resemble cover models.
“It doesn’t matter.” I clear my throat. “Can we get on with the interview now?”
“I already told you. You’re not watching Skye.”
