Page 43 of The Small-Town Seduction Plan

If just kissing Duke can fire me up like that, imagine how it would feel doing more than kiss… with fewer clothes… and a locked door?—

I gulp my icy soda, as Brooke hoots with laughter.

“You’re blushing!”

“Am not,” I protest. “It’s… a new cheek tint, that’s all.”

“Mmhmm.” Brooke grins. “Sure it is. But I’m glad to see you smiling,” she adds. “And it looks like this whole plan is working. The tabloids are behaving, everyone’s loving this new romance for you.”

I nod, relieved. If I’m going to have my hormones inconveniently stirred up like this, at least it’s moving my career back on track.

“They’ve stopped calling me a desperate, social-climbing slut, at least,” I say lightly. “And look!” I gesture around. “Nobody’s lurking in the bushes stalking my every move. They don’t have to anymore, not when Quinn’s already tipped them off that I’ll be having another date with Duke tonight.”

Brooke waggles her eyebrows suggestively.

“Another public, innocent date for the sake of my public reputation, and no other reason besides,” I clarify pointedly.

“Whatever you say, cuz.” She bounces up, brushing off her jeans. “That doesn’t mean you can’t look cute. Let’s go check out some of these boutiques, find you an outfit that says, ‘fall-madly-in-love-with-me’.”

I glare.

“’Ravish-me?’” she suggests, teasing. I keep glaring. “‘Kiss-me-chastely-on-the-front porch-at-an-angle-that-makes-my-ass-look-amazing?’”

“OK, that one I can work with,” I agree with a laugh.

We pack up, and stroll the town square. There are a ton of cute stores, but on closer examination, it’s clear, they’re not exactly the place for a hot date outfit. “What do you think?” Brooke asks, teasing, as she holds up a baggy linen kaftan. The little boutique is full of them, plus an assortment of straw hats, wide-legged garden pants, and all the turquoise jewelry a woman of a certain age could want.

“Cool,” I reply, browsing the tunic stand. “As in, breezy.”

Brooke holds it up to her body. “I can’t wait until I can wear stuff like this, and just waft around like I’m in a Nancy Meyers movie. Baking croissants at my incredible beach house, and having happy hours with my fabulous friends. While fancy galleries fight to exhibit my incredible photography…”

I smile. “Save a croissant for me. How’s business, anyway? Are you still working on that series, about the local veterans?”

Brooke makes a face. “It’s kind of on hold at the moment, I’ve been so busy with my day job, and helping out Tate, he’s under so much stress right now.”

Tate. I try not to scowl.

“But the board exams will be over soon,” Brooke adds. “And he thinks he’s in for a shot at a great fellowship at the Mayo Clinic.”

My head snaps around. “Isn’t that in Missouri?”

“Minnesota.”

“Even colder! Do you even want to move there?” I ask, alarmed. “You’re just getting your photography business off the ground.”

“I know, but I can take pictures anywhere, and the Mayo is a once in a lifetime opportunity,” she says, and it’s clear she’s parroting Tate’s words.

I force myself to turn back to the caftans. I can’t say anything, not even about her uprooting her life for a man who won’t even put a ring on it after five years.

She wouldn’t listen, anyway. My beautiful, smart, loyal cousin is head-over-heels for that smug asshole, and there’s nothing I can do– until the day she finally wakes up and realizes that he doesn’t deserve another moment of her time.

I’m just hoping she still has a few viable eggs left in her ovaries when that happens.

“What about this one?” I say instead, holding up a light linen tunic. “I know it’s supposed to be a top, but I could belt it, wear it as a dress with some amazing platform sandals…”

“Didn’t Quinn say girl-next-door?”

“Good point.” I decide to buy the tunic all the same– and one for Brooke, too. “May as well get our wafting eras started,” I declare, as we emerge back into the sunshine again.

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