by JM Stewart
She was touched he’d go through so much trouble for her but reached up to touch the scar running from her temple to the corner of her chin. The night she’d gotten it came to mind. The darkened car, the twisted metal. Her parents died that night and her life changed. She’d gotten teased so much growing up that she’d come to expect it. Kids could be shallow and cruel, even in college. It didn’t help that she’d gotten good grades and preferred her own company. She was a geek, a loner. She enjoyed reading. Her love for it had been what made her decide to use the meager inheritance her parents had left to open her bookstore.
Over the years, she’d been laughed at and discussed like she didn’t exist, didn’t have feelings. She’d overheard one too many dates in college, before she’d met Dane, talking to friends about the hideousness of her scar. Some had even laughed at her. Granted, they were drunken college boys too full of themselves, but the hurt had stuck. Since her breakup with Dane, she’d given up dating altogether. No, trying to find someone real, who’d accept her, scars and short, “voluptuous” stature and all, wasn’t worth the headache.
She still had needs, though, and desires. She was twenty-five, single, and sexually frustrated. She had yet to have a wild fling for the hell of it. She lived like an old spinster, because she was afraid to live. She wanted and craved hot, heavy sex, the kind where you couldn’t keep your hands off each other. Where you made out in elevators, like in the novel that brought her and Cade together in the first place. With a man, not the boys she managed to find. One who wouldn’t be horrible behind her back or even to her face, who’d make her feel sexy while he fucked her into next week.
She wasn’t, however, naïve. She knew better than to meet a complete stranger without knowing anything about him. “What’s your last name?”
“So you can look me up? Smart girl. McKenzie. My full name is Caden Declan McKenzie, but most people call me Cade. I work for my father. Do a search on my name. I guarantee you’ll find me. Now, you have to promise you aren’t going to stalk me.”
The playful tease in his tone had her imagining his smile, and the knot in her chest unraveled. She couldn’t help a soft laugh. “I can guarantee I won’t. It’s not my style, but I guess you’re going to have to trust me. Providing you are who you say you are, when would you like to meet?”
He was silent a moment. “You have a fantastic laugh, you know that? My flight lands Sunday night. Monday and Tuesday I’m booked solid. By the time I get back to my hotel at night, I won’t be worth anything. Wednesday afternoon is free, though.”
“I can do Wednesday. About three-ish?” She could pull J.J. in a couple hours early.
She and Maddie had hired J.J. a few months ago, needing someone to close the shop at night. Her little bookshop wasn’t very big, little more than a small bedroom. When she’d opened it, though, she and Maddie had a dream, to do what they loved doing. Maddie was good with people. The shop had done better than either of them expected. It had grown steadily over the last three years.
Just recently, they’d lengthened their days at the request of more than a few customers, who couldn’t make it in before the store closed at six. So, they kept it open until ten now. Last week, Hannah had covered her shift so J.J. could celebrate her first anniversary. Technically, that meant J.J. owed her one, though she knew the middle-aged woman wouldn’t have a problem with returning the favor. It was why they’d hired her. She shared the same passion for books, and she had a sweet, need-to-please disposition. The customers loved her. This way, Hannah would have time to go home and decide what to wear before meeting Cade at the Space Needle.
“Three it is. See you Wednesday, Hannah.”
The anticipation in his voice sent a shiver of the same trickling down her spine. “I look forward to it, Cade.”
And did she. More than she probably ought to.
About the Author
JM Stewart is a coffee and chocolate addict who lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband, two sons, and two very spoiled dogs. She’s a hopeless romantic who believes everybody should have their happily-ever-after and has been devouring romance novels for as long as she can remember. Writing them has become her obsession.
Learn more at:
AuthorJMStewart.com
Facebook.com/AuthorJMStewart
Twitter: @JMStewartWriter
Also by JM Stewart
Bidding on the Billionaire
Winning the Billionaire
Bargaining for the Billionaire
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