by L. B. Dunbar
“Giant,” he states, and I stop.
“Excuse me.”
“Everyone calls me Giant.”
“Well, Mr. Giant—”
“What do you want with the land?” He interjects, his voice still thunder-deep but not so menacing.
“I work for McMullen Realty in Chicago, and we’d like to acquire this property for a resort.”
“A resort?” he huffs, his arms falling to his sides as he interrupts me. He turns his large head to the side giving me a view of his profile. Strong facial features, a sharp nose broken at least once, and a tick to his jaw as he’s concentrating on something in the distance. “Do you know anything about this property, Cricket?”
“Olivet,” I correct. “And yes, I do. I know it’s a fine piece of land, situated perfectly for a beautiful resort that will offer people peace and tranquility away from their hectic lives.” I ramble off the future brochure sure to include such words to entice potential visitors. The silence around us reminds me I’m not far off from my speculation. It is certainly serene.
He harrumphs, crossing his arms again. Not as fierce as the first time, more casual in nature, he shakes his head like he’s laughing at me, only he isn’t laughing. “It’s not for sale.”
I dismiss his words still considering what he would look like with laughter on his face. Would his cheeks glow? His mouth spread? I bet he has white teeth. A smile and a good chuckle might set him on fire. He’s already larger than life in size but a good guffaw and he’d be bigger than thunder. A Greek god of sound and stature.
He’s staring at me and I realize I’ve taken too long to respond to him. I eye the cabin behind him. Rustic is one word for it. Small, graying, inviting. I rid the possibility of seeing the inside from my head. He probably stores bodies under the porch. Then I chuckle with the thought. He’s fierce but not fearsome. There’s something about him. My head tilts and my eyes pinch. I change tactics. A new appeal.
“If it’s a matter of money—”
“I don’t need money,” he scoffs, cutting me off and glaring at me again with a look of offense. “There isn’t enough money in the world for me to give up this place.”
My mouth pops open. “So, you are George Harrington II?”
“I told you, I’m Giant, and I think we’re done here, Cricket.”
“Now, Mr. Harrington…”
He turns his back to me, that beautifully muscular back. My mouth waters and I want to kiss him up the river of his spine and along the flexing plains of his shoulder blades, which is absolutely ridiculous considering he’s a stranger. Besides, I’ve sworn off men. Pretty men with fancy names. No thank you. Although this man isn’t pretty. He’s weathered and worn like the cabin behind him, and for once, I’d like to be a little less straight-laced and buttoned-up. The collar of my blouse itches.
“Name your price, Mr. Harrington,” I shout to his retreating back. He’s abandoned the wood pile and stalks toward the low porch. Without touching the first stair, he steps up to the platform, swallowed by the shade of the overhang. In seconds, he disappears inside the cabin, closing the door on my proposal.
Well, that certainly didn’t go as planned.
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(L)ittle (B)lessings of Gratitude
It takes a village and I feel particularly fortunate as I mark five years of writing and my twenty-fifth published book with the release of Wine&Dine. From those early years to this date, I’m overwhelmed that people like my stories, and I’m especially grateful for those of you who hang out in Loving L.B. on Facebook. It’s a safe space. A good place. And through your inspiration, I continue to live my dream.
Special thank you to Melissa whose guidance grounds me. Also Karen for her final touches and to Jenny for all the words in between. Thank you, Shannon, for your patience and photo-searching abilities. Finding those hot cover guys over forty is no joke! An extra thank you to Krista, Tammi and Sylvia for keeping my sliver of the book community sane. And to my newest addition, Dani. I’m looking forward to all we’ll do together.
To all the bloggers and readers who repeatedly share and spread the word, there aren’t enough words to thank you for your tireless support. I raise my glass to you and thank you for your love of books about love!
Finally, to my personal silver fox and the four gems of my world: MD, MK, JR and A…it’s about to get real in 2019. Thanks for letting Mom do her thing. #fabulous@almost50!
About the Author
Love Notes
www.lbdunbar.com
L.B. Dunbar loves the sweeter things in life: cookies, Coca-Cola, and romance. Her reading journey began with a deep love of fairy tales, medieval knights, Regency debauchery, and alpha males. She loves a deep belly laugh and a strong hug. Occasionally, she has the energy of a Jack Russell terrier. Accused—yes, that’s the correct word—of having an overactive imagination, to her benefit, such an imagination works well. Author of over two dozen novels, she’s created sexy rom-coms for the over 40; intrigue on an island; MMA chaos; rock star mayhem, and sweet small-town romance. In addition, she earned a title as the “myth and legend lady” for her modernizations of mythology as elda lore. Her other duties in life include mother to four children and wife to the one and only.
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Other Books by L.B. Dunbar
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Epilogue
More by L.B. Dunbar
Keep in touch with L.B. Dunbar
Nibble of what’s next: Silver Brewer
(L)ittle (B)lessings
About the Author
