Page 2 of The Rescue

“Dylan said you can create a website for my business?”

“Sure, whatever you need,” her tone sounds flirtatious.

I shift in my seat and tell myself that I’m being ridiculous, there’s no way she could be flirting withme.This woman is way out of my league, plus I need to keep things professional for many reasons.

“Perfect, just name your price and timeline. I’m sure you have to get back to your family or boyfriend back in Boston for the holidays, so I’m happy to pay a premium for you to get it done.”

I notice a small frown on her brow, and worry I’ve said something wrong.

“Boyfriend? No, I don’t do boyfriends,” her tone is flat and serious. She shoves the rest of the cookie in her mouth and brushes the crumbs off her shirt.

I try to remain professional, but this piques my curiosity because someone as attractive as her shouldn’t be single. Before I can stop myself I’m asking her why.

“How so?”

“Because I don’t do relationships, people always end up hating each other in the end anyway. So I’m saving myself the time and pain. I like to keep things casual, it’s less messy that way.”

Well, I wasn’t expecting her to be so honest about why she doesn’t do relationships.

“Each to their own, I guess.”

“What about you?” she asks, her auburn hair falls over her shoulder as she tilts her head.

“Me? I’m happy.” I try to deflect the conversation off me, and why I don’t date.

I don’t talk about my personal life, especially with people I just met. Hell, I hardly talk about this type of stuff with my closest friends, and I’d like to keep it that way.

“So when do you think you can get the website done?” I ask, my tone comes off a little abrupt.

She puts her tea cup on the table in front of us and straightens up in her chair. A small frown forms between her cat shaped eyes.

“Just write down what you need on your website and I should be able to get it done for you soon and out of your hair.”

“Thanks, you’re really helping me out. I wouldn’t even know where to start with making a website. If you weren’t here in Crossmackie I’d have to find someone from the city, and that would take me away from the cafe.” I try to lighten the mood.

She gives me a half-hearted smile. “I’ll be working from the cafe if you don’t mind me taking a table most days, Cam’s little cottage is very cramped.”

“No, not a problem, I will reserve a table every day for you. Any preferences?”

She scans the cafe with her bottom lip between her teeth, and points to my favourite table nestled in the corner next to thewindow. A cosy little nook out of the way, but close enough to the window to get a view to the outside and watch people go by.

“Good choice,” I smile.

She smiles back, and I feel some of the tension between us ease. She’s undeniably beautiful. Her confidence is charming and intimidating at the same time. She clearly isn’t afraid to be herself, and I find that refreshing. I look down at her cowboy boots and smile.

“You don’t sound like Dylan, it’s funny because I thought all Americans sounded the same. You’re different.” I try to make it sound like banter.

She narrows her eyes at me, and I can’t help sense that I’ve hit a nerve.

Her face flushes and turns into a soft pink. “Different? Cause I’m some country bumpkin from the south?”

“Country pumpkin? Never heard of one of them before.”

A small hint of a smile forms on her lips before a huge laugh erupts from her mouth, and I laugh nervously not knowing how we got here.

“Not pumpkin, BUMP-KIN,” she says every syllable slowly so I can understand.

I still don’t get it.

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