Page 21 of Billionaire's Bookworm

“I’m happy! I have fun!” I retorted.

My best friend merely lifted her brow with a knowing look and my shoulders slumped in defeat.

“Okay, how about we grab some lunch?” she grinned, changing the subject. “My treat. You can tell me all about what’s really going on in that head of yours.”

I glanced at the clock. Nearly noon, and my stomach was already protesting the morning’s coffee-only diet. “I suppose an early lunch break wouldn’t hurt.”

As we stepped outside, the sun warmed my face, and I felt a weight lift slightly. Maybe, just maybe, Icouldlet my guard down. At least a little.

But as we walked down the boardwalk, the precious book cradled in my arms, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Wade James was a chapter I wasn’t sure I was ready to read.

Yet.

Right?

ChapterSix

Wade

HadI completely lost my mind?

There was no other explanation for why I was standing in Sandy Sips Café at nine in the morning, ordering half a dozen blueberry scones like some kind of pastry-obsessed lunatic. To be fair, it wasn’t entirely my fault. The real culprit was a Goldendoodle with a grudge and a shocking amount of charisma.

Porky hated me.

He made that abundantly clear every time he looked at me with those soulful, judgmental eyes, as though he were personally offended by my very existence.

And if I had any chance of winning over Emma Michaels—who wasn’t exactly throwing rose petals at my feet either—I figured I needed to start by bribing the dog.

“Morning,” I said casually to Sandy, not noticing her raised eyebrow until too late.

“Interesting fashion choice,” she smirked, gesturing at my chest.

I looked down to find I was wearing my “Kiss the Cook” tee I wore during the cook-off. I’d grabbed the nearest thing that smelled clean this morning, and threw it on.

Shit.

“I’ll have an Em—“ I caught myself. “An americano. Just an americano. Oh, and half a dozen blueberry scones please.”

Sandy’s grin widened. “Sure thing, lover boy.” She leaned against the counter, her mismatched earrings swaying—a tiny teacup in one ear, a saucer in the other. “Are they for you or... a certain someone?”

I smirked, mimicking her pose against the counter. “What makes you think these aren’t just for me? Maybe I’ve got a thing for baked goods.”

“Oh, I’ve seen your type before,” she replied, narrowing her eyes in mock suspicion. “Big-city men in their fancy clothes, swooping in here thinking they can charm the pants off our locals. Let me guess—you’re trying to win over Emma Michaels.”

I blinked. Was this town equipped with some sort of gossip satellite, or was my interest in Emma that obvious?

Sandy grinned knowingly, as if she could read my thoughts. “Don’t look so surprised. It’s a small town, sweetheart. We can smell a crush from a mile away.”

“It’s not a crush,” I said quickly, ignoring the heat creeping up my neck. Since when the hell do Iblush? “It’s... complicated.”

“Sure it is.” Sandy slid the scones across the counter, her smile practically splitting her face. “Here’s a tip: Porky’s the real gatekeeper. You win him over, you might stand a chance with Emma.”

“Thanks for the unsolicited advice,” I muttered, though I couldn’t keep the corner of my mouth from twitching.

Sandy winked. “Just don’t screw it up. That girl’s been through enough, and we like her just the way she is.”

The subtle warning in her voice wasn’t lost on me. It didn’t matter that I was Wade James, billionaire businessman. In this town, I was just another guy trying to prove he was worth trusting.

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