Page 51 of Before It Was Love

“Oh, zonkeys are real. I googled them after Sophia phoned in your ad.”

“What did you say?”

“I googled what a zonkey is. It’s a crossing between a zebra and a donkey. They’re rare but they’re real. It’s sad they’re sterile but apparently most genetic hybrids are sterile.”

“What did you sayafteryou said you googled what a zonkey is?”

“What do you mean? What did I say?”

“You said Sophia phoned in my ad,” I remind her.

“Oh yeah. She said you were busy working out at theHideaway Haven Resortand didn’t have any time to phone yourself.”

“But I did have time to get phone calls from strangers accusing me of mistreating animals?” I grumble.

“Um… Did I screw up? Are you mad?”

Shit. I didn’t mean to yell at her. She has nothing to do with this. “Sorry, Alaia. I’m not angry with you.”

“But you are angry with Sophia? I thought she was living with you.”

I love small towns, but I could do without the small town gossip.

“Sophia is merely staying with me while her bathroom gets fixed.”

“And how long will the repairs take? From what I’ve heard, they haven’t begun yet.”

I walked straight into her question. I know better. I know to keep my mouth shut. Especially when I’m speaking to one of the biggest gossips on the island.

“Have a nice day, Alaia,” I ring off before she has a chance to ask any more questions.

At least now I know why people are ringing me to ask about zonkeys. What I don’t understand is what Sophia’s pissed about. But I will find out.

Chapter 17

Opportunity knocks, but temptation leans on the doorbell.

Sophia

Ihum as I enter Flynn’s house. Today has been a great day. The contract forGourmet Cornerarrived. I didn’t get locked out of any ofFive Fathoms Brewing’s social media accounts.

And, best of all, I got to spend the day imagining Flynn being barraged by phone calls from strangers about zonkeys. He probably didn’t know what a zonkey was this morning. I bet he does now!

I think I deserve a long soak with a bottle of beer and one of Maya’s romance books. I grab a bottle of our Summer Ale from Flynn’s refrigerator – the man’s an ass but he’s got good taste in beer – before climbing the stairs to my bedroom.

“Ah. This is heaven.” I sigh once I’m settled in the tub with my Kindle and a beer. The warm water feels luxurious on my tired muscles.

The front door slams. “Sophia!”

I giggle. Someone’s mad. Serves him right. How dare he kiss me and then say he’s not attracted to me. I will not be another conquest to Flynn. Screw him.

“Sophia!” Flynn shouts again before he bounds up the stairs.

I don’t answer. I don’t wanna. And I’m not getting out of this bath.

“I know you’re here. Your car’s in the driveway.”

Give the man a medal for detecting the obvious.

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