Page 9 of The Small-Town Seduction Plan

And all I want is my coffee.

“Dirty chai!” the barista calls again, looking around. “Order up for Georgia!”

I give my drink one last longing look, but there’s no way I can make it to the counter to claim it without Tessa seeing me.

So long, my love.

Reluctantly, I turn and bolt out the back door instead, barreling into the bright sunlight of the street, and?—

“Ooof.”

I careen headlong into a wall.

No, not a wall, I realize, as I press my palms against it, trying to keep my balance. Walls aren’t broad and warm, clad in soft flannel–

“I’m sorry,” I blurt, realizing the ‘it’ is a him.

I reel back, looking up past the broad chest and plaid shirt to…

“You again.”

“Me again,” Duke echoes, folding his arms. He’s still wearing a jaw full of stubble, and he’s gone without the baseball cap today, so his tawny brown hair is curling too long over his collar as he looks at me with clear disdain.

Just perfect.

“Are you stalking me or something?” I demand, immediately on the defensive. How is this man everywhere I go, when he’s the last person I want to see?

“Good mornin’ to you, too,” Duke drawls, looking smug at my outburst.

I take a deep breath, determined not to let him know he’s getting under my skin. “It is,” I reply sunnily, “No thanks to you. You know, you’re lucky I didn’t wind up dead in a ditch on the side of the highway. Aren’t there Good Samaritan laws that hold you liable for leaving someone in danger?”

“Because Blackberry Cove is famous for our high crime rates and highwaymen,” Duke replies with a snort. “What happened out there, you break a nail?”

“My manicures are made of stronger stuff,” I reply, airily examining my polish. “And so am I. So, if you think this grumpy asshole routine is going to intimidate me into leaving town, you’re wrong.”

“I don’t think anything about you, princess,” Duke replies, looking me up and down. But mostly down, since he’s towering at least a whole foot above me. “Believe me, you’re the last thing on my mind.”

I narrow my eyes, annoyed. Here I am, keeping a running list of painful revenge to inflict on the man from A (fire ants) to Z (zoonotic disease) and he couldn’t care less. I open my mouth, about to unleash my temper all over again, when the sound of someone clearing their throat interrupts me.

I turn.

“Hi.” A woman is standing there beside us, dressed in a cute print wrap skirt and vintage Fleetwood Mac T-shirt. I’ve been so distracted by Duke, I didn’t even notice her. Now, she gives me an amused smile, her dark hair cropped in a cute kicky bob. “Ignore him,” she says cheerfully, elbowing Duke in the ribs. “He’s a real Grinch first thing in the mornings. And in the afternoon. And most of the day, to be honest.”

“Gee, thanks,” Duke mutters, while I look back and forth between them.

I know he’s not married, but don’t tell me the man has a girlfriend willing to put up with his attitude.

As if reading my mind, the woman snorts with laughter. “Oh, we’re not… God no!”

“Again, thanks,” Duke says dryly.

“I’m Suze,” she continues, ignoring him. “Long-suffering childhood friend,” she explains. “Welcome to Blackberry Cove. Or rather, welcome back. Are you here to film a sequel?” she asks, looking hopeful.

“No, sorry. I’m just here for fun, this time,” I explain, liking her immediately. “I had such a great time, I decided to come back and relax for the summer. Enjoy all the small-town hospitality,” I add, giving Duke a pointed glare.

“Did you expect us to roll out the red carpet for you?” he shoots back. “Throw a parade?”

“Sure, that sounds like fun,” I agree. “You can lead the marching band down Main Street. You seem like that kind of guy. Someone who likes to pitch in, lend a hand. Help a neighbor in need,” I add cheerfully.

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