Page 11 of Claiming His Property

“Good morning!” she says gleefully. I take a seat and set my bag down, but Misty immediately leans back and frowns at me.

“What?” I ask, suddenly off guard.

“There’s something…different about you,” she says, giving me her all-knowing-eye.

“Different?”

She nods. “Definitely. You’re not…present right now. You’re elsewhere.”

“No I’m not,” I reply, shrinking away. This is my big day, and I cannot screw it up. “I’m right here.”

Misty smirks, leans in, and takes my hand in hers. “Sky, sweetie. This is me we’re talking about, not Pete. I don’t own the salon–I just work here. You can relax. Something’s going on with you. Now spill the beans!”

“Okay, you’re right,” I laugh.

“It’s a guy, isn’t it?” she asks.

“Yep.” I nod. “It’s a guy.”

“I knew it! Is he hot?”

“So hot,” I groan. “So stupidly hot that I don’t even know what to do with myself.”

“And thus the spacing out on your first day at your dream job?”

Misty grabs a seltzer that she keeps in the cooler at her station, hands it to me, and then takes one for herself.

“Tell me about him. Where’d you two meet? Dating app?”

“Oh God no,” I reply, cracking my can open. “He actually works for my aunt. He’s part of her landscaping crew. I saw him working a couple weeks ago, and it was like…” I mime my jaw dropping and my eyes going super wide, and Misty just nods like she totally understands. “Six-two at least, gorgeous, mesmerizing eyes, huge muscles, these big strong hands that are all rough–”

“Sounds like your dad a little bit.”

I reply with an earned knee-slap that causes her to laugh.

“What? Your dad’s hot. You want me to deny it?”

“Maybe just not mention it?” I ask. “That would be nice.”

“Okay, my bad,” she snickers.

“But you’re right. He actually did remind me of my dad when I first met him.”

Misty gives me the naughty eyes. “Uh-oh, girl. You’ve got that thing girls get where they go for guys who remind them of their dad.”

I groan. “No…do I?”

She shrugs. “Sure sounds that way.”

She does have a point. Cade is tall like Daddy, works landscaping–which is manual labor like Daddy–is tall and tanned from working outside like Daddy, and his rough hand immediately reminded me of Daddy’s when I first shook it.

“Oh no…” I sink down and hide my face with my hair. “I’m a weirdo!”

Misty bursts out laughing. “No you’re not. It’s totally normal. My friend Eric who has fantasies about girls covering him in jam and calling him names for hours is a weirdo.”

I can’t tell if Misty is joking with me or not, but it works and snaps me out of my moment of self-realization I’m having.

“But there’s a problem. I’ve never told you about my aunt, have I?”

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