by Tee, Marian
"I just realized why your voice sounds so familiar..." Eyes sparkling with merriment lifted up to his. "Has anyone told you how much you sound like John Wick?"
Thornton just stared at her, but this didn't seem to faze her at all.
"It's like every sentence you drop comes with a serious amount of gravitas," she told him helpfully.
"Really."
The girl was already grinning even before he was done speaking. "See?" she pointed out with a cheeky grin. "You just did it again!"
Thornton frowned. "Did what?"
"That! A normal person would've said it like this - did what?"
Thornton winced. Those last two words had been uttered in a somewhat shrill, questioning tone that hurt his ears.
"But when you say it, it's like did what." This time, she intoned the words in a deep, grave voice like...
Thornton frowned. No. This girl's insanity was obviously contagious. She almost had him convinced he really did sound like John Wick.
Which he did not, he thought forcefully.
"I see it in your eyes," she teased. "You see it now, don't you?"
"No," he rejected flatly. "I don't." He punctuated his words with a cold, hard stare, but instead of having her run away like most others did, she just kept grinning and talking, enumerating all the ways he resembled a certain fictional assassin.
Thornton was incredulous. And amazed. Maybe she was a little dense, maybe it was something else, but either way it didn't matter. This girl was not scared of him at all, and while it was unfortunate that she had to be female, he could work with that.
"...and don't even get me started on your beard, Mr. Blackwood. It's as if your barber---"
"Ms. Golding?"
She immediately stopped speaking and flashed him a smile. "Yes, sir?"
"You're hired."
* * *
"So that's how it happened," Blake finished ruefully. "I think he was just so tired of hearing me talk, he decided to hire me just to shut me up."
Frankie knew her friend was just joking, but she had a feeling there was a grain of truth in Blake's words. She had once admitted to Oliver that Thornton was a little too intimidating for her, and her boss had told her that the bookstore owner was far from what most people imagined him to be. What didn't help, however, was Thornton's lack of patience and interest to correct everyone's first impressions of him.
Could that be why he had ended up hiring Blake over all the other candidates? Many of them had better qualifications than her friend did, and there was also the fact that he had been expecting Blake to be a guy.
He had every reason to reject Blake, but instead the opposite had happened, and the more she thought about it, the only reason Frankie could come up for this was the fact that Blake was the only one who wasn't intimidated by the ex-SAF billionaire.
There was just something about these two. Something undefinable but tremendously palpable...that it had all the locals talking. Like Frankie, everyone couldn't help noticing the way Blake was always all smiles whenever her boss was around, and how she tended to, well, glow a little less brightly when he wasn't.
While Hartland's secret tycoons and heiresses seemed able to easily shrug off Thornton’s occasionally sinister ways, Frankie and the other ordinary folks working in town couldn't find it in themselves to be just as unconcerned. Or at least that was how it used to be...until Blake, who from the very first day appeared completely immune to the frightening impact of Thornton's scowls or the menacing softness of his voice.
Blake was just so obvious about so many things, so careless with having her heart so blatantly worn on her sleeve, that everyone in town became certain of two things.
All the signs pointed to Blake's infatuation with her boss...and Thornton saw all those signs, too.
Chapter Three
Hartland Flowers. Although Ethan had borrowed a page from his older brother's book by keeping things simple when naming his flower shop, HF's facade had a more Parisian feel to it, with its remodeled store front. While the upper half of the historic two-story brick building maintained its original appearance, the lower half consisted of umber-colored wood frames and floor-to-ceiling glasses.
Compared to most other establishments in town, Ethan liked to open and close late, with his hours starting at eleven until eight in the evening. This left him free to do pretty much anything in the morning, and for today, anything happened to be having breakfast with Thornton...and catching the older guy with his hand in the most incredibly amusing cookie jar.
"What the hell?" Having come up from behind with two cans of coffee in his hands, Ethan was able to catch a glimpse of whatever it was Thornton appeared intently watching on his phone, and he started laughing when he saw the deep flush in his brother's face. "Are you stalking your assistant?"
"No." Thornton's voice was extremely stiff...and just the slightest bit defensive.
"But you're watching real-time footage of your store's CCTV," he pointed out.
"Because I'm concerned."
"Over what?"
"Take a look." Thornton passed his phone to Ethan and was unsurprised when he saw the younger man's brows shoot up.
"What's she doing?" Ethan was genuinely bemused. The girl was standing on a stool - and in danger of falling off it - while trying to take photos of...scattered books on the floor?
"All for the 'gram," Thornton said gruffly.
"All for the what?" Ethan echoed blankly as he gave Thornton his phone back.
"That's what she calls it." Thornton's voice was a mixture of resignation and disgruntlement. "She created an Instagram account for the store two weeks ago, and online sales have tripled ever since."
Ethan whistled. "Nice."
"Not if she's going to end up breaking her neck for a few hundred dollars," Thornton muttered.
Their talk moved on to another topic then, dwelling in particular on the various challenges they had to overcome just to keep the film crew from accidentally stumbling on their business.
"Leander has it worse than any of us," Ethan commented wryly. The Texan native took on the role of resident mechanic whenever he was in town, and since majority of the film was being shot in Leander's repair shop, the other man had no choice but to stay in character every second of the day.
"Interestingly enough, there's been some talk in town..." Ethan started to share with Thornton how some locals had seen Leander and one of the movie's female leads kissing when he realized that his brother was no longer listening.
Thornton was back to stalking, and with an even grimmer look on his face this time. Since they were seated next to each other, Ethan subtly leaned back to take a look: a zoomed-up shot of Blake, who was chatting gaily like she always did...with a male customer.
Ethan smirked. "Feeling a little jealous, aren't you?" He expected his older brother to shrug this off or deny it outright, but instead---
"It doesn't matter if I am." When Thornton saw Ethan's jaw drop, he said calmly, "I won't let anything come out of it."
"You smug, lucky son of a bitch." Ethan's tone was a mixture of chagrin and irritation. His older brother had to be the moodiest bastard for a woman to have as a lover, and yet the Fates had still taken to blessing Thornton with the puppy-eyed adoration of someone as sweet and angelic as Blake.
Ethan, on the other hand...he and Guila had broken up just too damn many times that he had stopped bothering to count the first time they hit double digits.
Thornton noticed the way Ethan was glaring at him over the rim of his canned coffee. "What?"
"I hope she dumps you."
Thornton frowned. Dump him? They weren't even in a relationship in the first place, although...
* * *
Six weeks ago
Thornton wasn't used to girls having a crush on him. Members of the opposite sex had always been just a little frightened of him; the only difference was how such fear had made some women run away...while in other cases, fear had ended up being his major point of a
ttraction, and women wanted to fuck him for the mere dangerous thrill to it.
But this?
Blake had only been working for him for a week, and she had already turned his world upside-down. People in town who didn't even have the courage to meet his eyes in the past now sported knowing grins every time they saw him. Blake is crushing on you so bad she thinks you walk on water, their sly gazes told him, and we think that's hilarious as fuck.
The first time it happened, Thornton had been speechless with incredulity and was only able to stare at the guy who not only delivered his paper but was also now the messenger of bad rumors. And when he had finally been able to talk---
'You think she has what?'
To which, Pete had eagerly clarified, 'It's not just me, sir. It's everyone. Everyone thinks she has a crush on you.'
'Why the fuck would everyone think that?'
'She talks about you all the time, Mr. Blackwood. Even when no one's asking her about you, and when she does, she's got that look on her face, if you know what I mean.'
'No. I don't.' While Thornton's words had been the complete truth, Pete's dubious look told him the younger man didn't exactly find it plausible.
'You know how in cartoons they've got hearts popping out of people's eyes every time they see whoever it is they're crazy about?'
'Yeah.'
Pete's expression was as three-word eloquent as his tone (duh) when he answered, 'That's how it is with Blake, sir, every time she talks about you.'
* * *
The not-so-long-ago memory had Thornton slowly shaking his head at Ethan's words. He still couldn't figure out what Blake saw in him or, better yet, what she thought she saw in him, but...
"I don't think she's capable of dumping me."
Ethan couldn't help giving his older brother the middle finger. Smug son of a bitch, he thought again. The way Thornton had uttered the words in a matter-of-fact tone was galling, and while it would've given him much pleasure to tell the other man he was being presumptuous, doing so would've been pointless.
Both of them knew that would've been an outright lie, considering that fortune-reading incident several weeks ago. A Gypsy caravan had just arrived in town then, and when news of one of its elders being a palm reader had spread, Blake had been the very first one in line outside the old woman's tent.
As for what she had gone running to the Gypsies to ask, Blake had actually revealed it only to Frankie while they were having dinner at the pub. But what they hadn't noticed then was how the girls seated at the table behind them overheard their entire conversation, and from there news of Blake's question had spread like wildfire.
Can you please tell me, she had apparently beseeched the palm reader, if my boss will ever love me back?
Chapter Four
It was already half-past six when Thornton's truck climbed the uphill road leading back to his home, and he was relieved to see that the area was already empty of movie cameras and filming crew members.
Coming out of the garage, Thornton saw that the bookshop's sign had already been flipped to Closed
and took the narrow side alley that led directly to his garden. From here, a cobbled pathway weaved past the rose bushes and plant boxes and went all the way to the front door of his sleekly-remodeled shipping container home.
Thornton's private residence consisted of three remodeled containers. The ones at the side were of equal size, with the left container housing his bedroom and study while the right container, previously a storage room, had been converted to give Blake her own space.
Both units were connected to the middle unit with glass-roofed boardwalks. The middle container was the larger of the two and, save for the wall at the back, boasted of floor-to-ceiling glass doors at all sides, and it was here he finally found his pretty little assistant, hair bundled up in a careless chignon as she meticulously set the table for dinner.
"Evening."
Blake's head lifted right away, and it was a sublime pleasure to see her lovely face light up with a smile of unconcealed happiness the moment she saw him coming in. She was dressed in shirt and jeans, and its very wholesomeness was a major turn-on. He liked the way the cotton gently molded over the fullness of her breasts and the way her skinny jeans emphasized the slim length of her legs.
"Welcome back!" Blake couldn't help gobbling her boss up with her eyes as she spoke. Oh sweet baby Jesus, but Thornton Blackwood just seemed to get sexier every day. He was dressed in his typical cowboy attire, with his plaid buttoned-up shirt and sleeves rolled up to his elbows, faded denim jeans that did an extremely great job at emphasizing the muscular tightness of his butt and the towering, hard length of his build.
Mouthwatering in other words, she thought helplessly.
Blake volunteered to say grace as they took their seats, and Thornton simply nodded. The first time she had asked this of him, he had simply stared at her, to the point that she had started squirming and asked if perhaps he had a different religion. But it hadn't been that really. What had taken him aback was that she had the guts to ask anything of him in the first place.
Most women - and some men, too - were typically afraid to even look at him in the eye in their first few encounters with him. And yet this girl...
Blake had no problems cheerfully taking up the bulk of the conversation over dinner. She loved, like truly loved to talk, and the nicest thing about Thornton was how keen he always appeared to listen to her. Once, she had tried to see if he was merely pretending and asked him a question whose detailed answer he would only know if he had truly lent her an ear.
'Mr. Blackwood, do you remember about yesterday's incident...' She had deliberately trailed off, hoping he would take over and show her what he did remember.
And he had, she recalled dreamily, and oh so wonderfully, too. The incident she had been referring to was a service complaint from an online customer, and Thornton not only recalled the whole incident down to the smallest detail, but he had also informed her afterwards that he had his people take care of the issue on their behalf.
While his choice of words (his people???) had been rather bewildering, she had just been so happy, knowing that he truly did listen to everything she said, that Blake shrugged the matter off. Maybe it was just a Hartland thing...
Thornton's lips slowly pressed together in an effort to suppress his smile. How incredibly easy it was for this woman to get lost in daydreams. It was practically a talent, and he found her ability to fly to la-la land whenever wherever genuinely impressive.
The first time it happened, they had been at a weekend fair Blake had somehow convinced him to accompany her to. At one particular store, a next-town artisan was selling handmade necklaces. Blake had immediately gravitated towards the one with a heart-shaped lapis lazuli, and one moment she had been gushing over its craftmanship, and the next moment...nothing. A full minute had passed, and when Thornton had glanced down at her in sheer bafflement, he had seen Blake staring at the necklace like it had just transported her to Narnia.
The expression on her face then...was pretty much what she had on her face now.
"Blake."
Thornton's warm breath caressed her ear at his sudden whisper, and Blake came crashing back into earth with a squeal of shock. She almost fell out of her chair, too, and by the time she righted herself, it was to see her boss' dark eyes gleaming with amusement.
"Mr. Blackwood, that's not nice!"
Thornton almost laughed. The words were obviously an admonishment, but Blake actually ended up making them sound like gushing praise, with her breathless tone and the pink flush of her cheeks.
"You were daydreaming again," he drawled.
Blake just shrugged. It was obvious she considered her daydreaming as normal as breathing, and Thornton had a harder time keeping a smile off his lips.
After dinner, Thornton insisted on doing the dishes and had to remind Blake for the nth time that it was all part of their bargain, ever since she practically begged to take over cooking.<
br />
"But are you really sure?" Blake asked worriedly. "Because if you're already tired or anything, I could totally---"
"Blake."
Oops. It was his John Wick voice, and since he only ever used it as a polite way of shutting her up, Blake reluctantly took a step back and said with a sigh, "You're the boss."
He was indeed, Thornton thought in self-mocking irony ten minutes later, having seen Blake tiptoe out of her room in a fluffy little robe that barely hid anything. He was her boss, which meant he had absolutely no fucking business sporting a hard-on the moment he caught a glimpse of the tantalizing V of her cleavage and the shapely curves of her naked legs.
He really should have her unit extended, give Blake her own en-suite. The sooner, the better, too, Thornton thought grimly. Seeing her half-naked every damn evening was just pure fucking torture for his cock, with only cold showers to look forward to and not a single hope for sexual---
Shit.
Blake had suddenly looked his way, and their gazes collided as she caught him staring hungrily at her.
SHIT.
He abruptly turned away, but hearing Blake gasp told him it was already too late.
SHIT.
She had seen his erection, and life was going to be hell from here on, now that the damn girl knew her desire for him wasn't one-sided.
Chapter Five
Aidan Blackwood walked inside Redwood Cafe, intending to grab breakfast before heading down to the police station. He saw its temporary manager Elizabeth inside the counter, and he was about to call out a greeting when he realized who the younger woman was talking to.
Shit.
He wasn't really a fan of McDonald's, but at this point, even dreary mushy cereal would do than the possible danger that lay ahead. Stealth was the key, Aidan thought, and so he slowly and silently started his retreat, hoping to get out of harm's way before---
