Page 17 of Canadian Harvest
Hot Not-Billionaire
Can’t wait to see you tonight, beautiful.
‘Hot Not-Billionaire?’ I laugh, thinking of my embarrassment from the night before, earning a questioning glance from the ladies as they pass me to enter The Novel Bunch, book club bags in hand. I wonder if they’d let someone at least thirty years younger than them into their exclusive ‘Afternoon Tea-Light’ book club.
I can’t wait to see you, too.
Thank you for getting my car towed. You didn’t have to do that.
I watch the bubbles as they appear and disappear, holding my breath until his name appears on my screen.
I told you. Anytime for anything, babe.
‘Babe?’ A dopey smile crosses my face as I clutch my phone to my chest. Am I swooning? Is this what it feels like to swoon?
Whatever it is, I feel like I might just be the heroine in my own novel, which means I need to rush home and get ready for my hero.
9
MITCH
My knock on Rachel’s door is harder than I meant it to be. The resoundingthudechoes through her quiet neighbourhood. I look around, nervously waiting for the door to open.
When did I start letting my nerves get the better of me?
After I dropped her off this morning, I couldn’t stop thinking that maybe I’d come on too strong, but I couldn’t help it. The thought of her sitting in her broken down van in the middle of the night, alone, in the dark, was too much. I’ve never felt overly protective of a woman before, but with Rachel, it’s all I can think about. What if something had happened to her? What if she wasn’t able to make it home? Logan Creek is a safe town, but anything could happen.
Clutching the small gift I brought in my hand; I take a steadying breath. I don’t need her seeing me all riled up when she answers the door.
It doesn’t matter, because my thoughts are silenced the moment she opens the door.
She’s wearing a dress that looks like a fitted black t-shirt that gives way to a pale pink polka dotted skirt. There’s a pink belt around her waist. Dragging my gaze up her body, over her curves, and on to her full breasts, I’ve lost the ability to speak.
Her hair tumbles over her shoulders in curls. She’s wearing more makeup than I’ve ever seen her wear, making her bright green eyes stand out.
“Hi,” she says breathlessly, almost sounding unsure.
“You look so beautiful.” It’s cliché, I know, but nothing else comes to mind as I stand here and stare at her. At least, nothing that doesn’t involve throwing her over my shoulder and demanding she direct me to her bedroom.
“Thank you.”
Dammit, there’s that blush again.
“I got this for you.” I unceremoniously hand the package in my hand to her. “I hope you don’t mind. I didn’t get you flowers. I thought you might like something different, given what you do.”
“That’s so thoughtful of you. You didn’t have to buy me anything.” The corner of her mouth ticks up in a smile. “Can I open it?”
“Of course.”
I watch in admiration as she rips the brown paper wrapping. She gasps, her eyes light up as she looks up at me.
“You bought me a book?”
“I hope it’s one you like. I had Kylie help me pick it out.”
“Kylie…” she repeats the name, frozen, while she looks at me.
“Yeah, I caught her right before she locked up for the night. Bernice Johnson was leaving with a bunch of other women from some book club. Mentioned something about me being a ‘book boyfriend’ and a ‘golden retriever.’ I’m not entirely sure why they were comparing me to a dog.”