Page 65 of Billionaire Protector

If the first kiss was a mistake…

And the second kiss a really big mistake….

And the third through twelfth kisses you-have-the-willpower-of-a-carrot-stick mistakes…

Then what was spending an entire day with Cole at a Renaissance festival supposed to be?

Yeah, it was definitely time to get her head checked.

She had to get out of this date. She didn’t know how, but she would find a way. Of course, it would be difficult after the town had so generously offered the prize and she’d so gratefully accepted, not to mention the deputy/war hero/town hunk who seemed to think she belonged to him. Still there had to be something she could do.

Perhaps she could find someone else to go with Cole. There were probably hundreds or thousands (or millions) of women who would happily take her place. But as suddenly as the thought appeared, she dismissed it, refusing to consider why except to affirm it had absolutely nothing to do with jealousy. Maybe they could give the ticket to charity. Maybe Mrs. Carmichael could go.

She grinned. Maybe George the monkey could go.

But first she had to tell Cole, which was why she was traveling to his place on the sun-splashed day, only his car (or rather one of his fleet) wasn’t in the driveway. His neighbor was outside watering the lawn, however, and informed her that Cole was helping Mrs. Carmichael. As Sarah headed to her new destination, she considered every possible excuse to skip the event. So far she’d come up with several promising ideas:

1. She’d come down with an alien flu communicable at two hundred feet away that could turn your skin green and make you itch all over (antennae may or may not be involved).

2. An extremely urgent matter had arisen. She couldn’t give details, but it definitely involved the FBI.

3. She was allergic to Renaissance fairs/the outdoors/him and would break out in hives and itch all over with any contact.

4. He was hotter than a fresh tamale, and she was worried she was going to jump on top of him and lick him up.

Unfortunately, she didn’t look sick, he probably wouldn’t go for the FBI thing and he definitely knew she wasn’t allergic to him. The fourth, though true, was out of the question. But there had to be something that would work. Hopefully, a plan would emerge before it was time to explain.

She parked on the narrow street behind a line of cars and approached Mrs. Carmichael’s home. She walked slowly, trying (and failing) to formulate an excuse that actually had a chance of working. So far she’d added zombie invasion to her list of possibilities.

Yeah, it wasn’t looking good.

No one was in front of Mrs. Carmichael’s house, but banging was coming from the back, so she threaded the yard between houses. Before she reached Mrs. Carmichael’s backyard, the sound of hushed conversation drifted from the farmhouse next door. The home belonged to her friend Chloe and now contained a group of approximately two dozen women on the second story wraparound balcony. Her friend spotted her and waved. “Hey, Sarah, come up!”

Renewed banging came from Mrs. Carmichael’s house, drawing her attention. She really should go straight to Cole and tell him she couldn’t attend the fair. However… she still had no idea what to say to the stubborn man, and a few minutes with theladies might inspire her. She ascended the white spiral staircase that led to the large deck.

“Hey everyone.” She smiled. “What are you guys up to?”

“It’s our monthly movie club.” Harmony adjusted her sparkly rhinestone sunglasses, then straightened her matching green beaded necklace. “Today’s theme is hot hunky heroes.”

Sarah’s smile widened. She’d been to the movie club a few times. Coincidentally, every month’s theme was hot hunky heroes. “Why aren’t you inside? Usually a television is involved in hot hunky heroes,” she teased. Chloe’s husband owned the only electronics store in town and had built his own state of the art home theater.

“We’re watching the movie out here.” Jessica pointed to a small screen perched precariously on the balcony railing. Stretching an extension cord to the limit, it appeared to be the small tablet Chloe usually kept in the kitchen. Sarah could barely make out the tiny figures playing in one of last year’s hit romantic comedies.

She squinted. “How can you see that?” Although actually no one seemed to be watching. Usually they sat in rapt attention, waiting for the moment the hot hunky hero removed his shirt and showcased his six-million-pack abs. But now the women watched something beyond the balcony, on the ground below. Sarah peered closer, followed their gazes down, down, down…

She froze. Tightened. Exhaled. They were indeed watching their hot hunky hero, only not on the television.

Cole Carter had struck again.

There he was, Harmony Creek’s most eligible hunk, swinging a heavy mallet on a thick wooden fence post in Mrs. Carmichael’s backyard. The post burst into the ground with one hearty swing, then he moved to the next. He worked like a machine, his muscles rippling, a fine sheen of sweat visible even from afar. His biceps flexed, the muscles in his chest and backeasily providing the strength he needed. He was power defined, the epitome of masculine dominance. And…

His shirt was nowhere to be seen.

He wore only jeans, hung low on his body, showcasing six-million-pack abs like a hot hunky hero movie poster. As he lifted the mallet, the pants sank a little lower, and Sarah peered closer. And closer. And closer and closer and…

No! Bad, bad, bad.Instead of ogling him, she should be making missing signs for his shirt.Missing: One Man’s Extra Large Shirt, stretched from rippling muscles, answers to the name, Hot Body. Reward: Her sanity.

“Oooh, here’s the best part!” Jessica squealed, and though she tried, Sarah’s carrot stick willpower didn’t allow her to avert her gaze. Cole grabbed water from the table, not a glass, but an entire gallon, and took a long swig. Even from the balcony, the droplets of water were visible, as they slid their way down his chest, over his stomach, down to–

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