Page 32 of The Small-Town Seduction Plan

I stroll closer, wary. “Who’s asking?”

“Nobody important. Just waiting for you to say ‘cheese’.” He whips a camera out from behind his back, and starts snapping, blocking my path as I try to get to the driver’s side.

“You better get that thing out of my face before I break it,” I threaten him with a growl, and clearly, my face says I mean it, because he jumps back.

“I’ll catch you later,” he calls, undeterred. “You’re working on that house over on Sandcastle Drive, right?”

I don’t answer, I just get in the truck and drive way, tires squealing.

Now how the hell does that asshole know my schedule?

I speed out of town, my temper at boiling point now. I was living a quiet life out here, minding my own damn business – until she came along and blew that all to hell. Now I’ve got the whole town gossiping over my every move, and strangers showing up to stalk me, too.

And it’s all her fault.

I wrench the wheel, cutting a U-turn right there in the middle of the street as I speed back in the direction of Avery’s place. I’m ready to give that woman a piece of my mind, but when I pull up outside the cottage, I find I’m not alone: there’s a cluster of cars and trucks parked on the side of the narrow country lane. At least a dozen people are lined up all along the bushes, and hanging over the front gate, peering and craning at the cottage with their cameras and phones out.

“There he is!”

“It’s him!”

As I exit the truck, there’s a burst of excitement, and suddenly, the pack starts rushing in my direction.

“Duke, is it true the town is filing charges for public indecency?”

“Duke, are you going to be the next Bachelor?”

“Was that a baby bump we saw? Will you and Avery be raising the kid together?!”

I fight my way through them, and up the front path. “Avery?” I yell, hammering on the front door. “It’s me, Duke. Are you in there?”

The door cracks open an inch, and I see Avery’s face peering through the gap. “It’s me,” I repeat.

She opens it wider. “Get inside,” she says quickly. “Hurry!”

I duck into the cottage, and she slams the door behind me – flipping the deadbolt, and the security chain, too.

“Christ, who are those people?” I exclaim.

“Reporters. Paparazzi. Random bloggers,” Avery replies in a quiet voice. “The first ones got here last night, and then I woke up this morning to that.”

I blink, adjusting to the dim light. The house is shrouded in darkness, and Avery goes to check the living room windows, yanking to make sure the curtains are drawn all the way shut against the prying eyes in the street.

“I’m so stupid, I didn’t even think about security,” she says, sounding miserable. “I mean, it’s Blackberry Cove! I figured I’d be safe here for the summer, and nobody would care…”

I get a proper look at her face, and just like that, my anger disappears. Avery looks pale and drawn, bundled up in an oversized sweatshirt like she’s trying to disappear completely.

“The library!” she says suddenly, and turns to hurry down the hall.

I follow as she heads for a sun-drenched, book-lined room at the back of the house. There are no curtains at the windows here, and Avery is reaching up, trying to drape blankets over the rails.

“Relax,” I try to reassure her. “They can’t see you from the street back here.”

Avery doesn’t stop. “You don’t understand, they don’t care about privacy, or trespassing laws,” she says, her jaw clenched with stress. “Last year, a photographer stalked me to my spa appointment, and photographed me naked in the locker room. He had to use a long-range lens from the roof of the building across the street, but that didn’t stop him! And I was lucky that time,” she adds grimly. “Robert bought the pictures before they could auction them off to the highest bidder.”

“Robert?” I ask.

“My ex-fiancé,” Avery replies, looking over at me. “His place had a whole security perimeter, and it was in a private community too, with a guard on the gate. I never had to think about them getting in. I got sloppy,” she adds sadly, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so vulnerable.

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