Page 44 of The Small-Town Seduction Plan

“Does that mean it’s time for a croissant?” Brooke grins.

“It’s always time for a croissant.”

We’re crossing the street when I see him exiting the hardware store.

Duke.

I stop dead – and Brooke bumps me from behind. “What?” she asks, then follows my gaze. “Is that him?” she whispers excitedly. “Well! Now some things are making way more sense. But maybe let’s not die in traffic for the man?”

She tows me over to the sidewalk, as Duke approaches. “Hey there,” he says, raking a hand through his hair. He’s still got his unshaven, scruffy look going on, dressed in his work uniform of a plain T-shirt and beat-up jeans. But is it just me, or does he look…

Brawnier.

Confident.

Hot.

“Hi.” I swallow, feeling strangely self-conscious. I’ve been happily bickering with the man all week, but now, everything feels off-kilter, like the world has shifted just a couple of degrees.

I know the way he tastes.

Luckily, Brooke doesn’t skip a beat, introducing herself and making small talk about the town while I try to engage my vocal cords again.

And not think about Duke’s hands gripping my waist, the heat of his body pressed hard against me…

“So, what’s the plan tonight?” Brooke asks cheerfully. “I hear you’ve got a hot date on the books.”

Duke gives a wry chuckle. “Did you get Quinn’s memo, too?” he asks me. “Because she sent me all kinds of friendly ‘suggestions’ about my performance the other night.”

“But you were great!” I blurt. “I mean, the date was. With you. I have no notes. On your… performance.”

Just stop.

Duke looks confused by my babbling, and I don’t blame him. “Well, thanks. I made us a reservation for tonight at a place up the coast. This new French restaurant, it’s supposed to be the best around.”

“It doesn’t have to be anything fancy,” I say quickly. “We can just grab a drink here in town.”

“Now, what kind of fake boyfriend would I be if I didn’t show you a good time?”

Duke gives me a crooked smile, and just like that, I’m right back in steamy fantasyland again.

More than kissing… fewer clothes… a locked door?—

Brooke elbows me.

I cough, flustered. “Right. Sure! I’ll, um, see you later then.”

“Pick you up at seven? Good meeting you, Brooke,” Duke adds, before strolling off, tall and sturdy in the sunlight.

“Oh, this is going to be fun.”

I turn. Brooke is grinning at me, delighted. “No. Absolutely not.” I wag my finger at her. “It’s just the low bar of mankind, remember?”

She just beams. “C’mon, let’s find you something hot to wear, for this 'good time’.”

“With my fake boyfriend,” I correct her, even as she loops her arm through mine and drags me away. “Fake, he said it so himself!”

12

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