Page 4 of Only His Girl
Chapter Two
WILLOW
I’m sorting through a stack of pamphlets about poison oak when the front door chimes. I look up to see Joe, the local messenger, stroll in carrying a vase of red roses and a bright pink box.
“Delivery for the ranger’s office,” Joe announces.
“Sorry, Joe, I think you may be in the wrong place.”
Joe shakes his head. “Nope, pretty sure this is the spot. It says your name right here. Willow Rogers.”
My jaw drops open. The gift is for me? “Um, yes, that’s me, but... are you sure? I’m not expecting anything.”
Joe grins and sets the flowers and box on the counter. “Well, looks like it’s your lucky day, then.”
Behind me, I hear my coworker, Buck, snicker. “Oooh, Willow’s got a boyfriend!”
I feel my cheeks flush. Buck is only seventeen and thinks anything involving romance is hilarious.
“I do not have a boyfriend,” I mutter. At least, I’m pretty sure I don’t...
Joe tips his hat. “Have a good one, folks.” He heads out, leaving me staring dumbfounded at the unexpected delivery.
Who on earth would be sending me a gift at work? Quickly, I untie the ribbon and lift the lid off the pink box.
Then I gasp.
Inside is the most gorgeous sparkly clutch purse I’ve ever seen. There’s a card tucked inside. I open it, and my breath catches.
Hope this brightens your day, Butterfly. — Heath
Heath? As in Heath Donovan? The insanely hot, ruggedly handsome mountain man I spent an unexpected evening with at the opera last night?
Why would he be sending me a gift?
I can barely think straight. Heath was a perfect gentleman last night, keeping me company so I wouldn’t be a third wheel on my friend Eliza’s date with his brother Drew. But the way he looked at me, the electricity I felt when his hand brushed mine...
No, no way. He’s probably just a natural flirt. Guys who look like him always are. He’s just trying to get a rise out of me. Toying with the small-town, naive park ranger for his own amusement.
Well, I won’t let him get to me.
I shove the clutch and flowers under the desk as the office door flies open. It’s my boss, George, and he’s on his cellphone, looking harried.
“No, no, I don’t care if it’s Mittens or Fluffy, keep that damn cat inside!” George barks into the phone. “Because apparently, Fluffy’s long lost cousin is prowling around the playground ready to make a snack out of some hapless toddler, that’s why!”
I exchange a wide-eyed look with Buck. That can’t be good.
George hangs up and turns to me. “Willow, I need you to lock up. Buck and I have to hightail it over to the south side—we’ve got a cougar situation on our hands.”
“Shouldn’t I come too?” I ask, reaching for my jacket.
“Nah, Buck and I can handle one little kitty cat. You focus on closing up shop.”
I bristle at his condescending tone. “Are you sure? I’m fully trained for this exact scenario.”
“I know, I know,” George says with a placating smile makes it clear he thinks otherwise. “Tell you what, you man the fort here, and if Buck and I need you, we’ll give a holler. Sound good, sweetheart?”
I clench my teeth at his patronizing tone, but I force a tight smile. “Sure thing, boss. I’ll take care of everything here.”