Page 56 of The Rancher's Secret Relationship

And that when Frankie had her lightbulb moment. After promising Blake to call her back with hopefully good news, she had walked back into her office and heard herself say,'I have one last candidate for you to meet. Blake's someone I can personally recommend—-'

'He's hired. Have him come up to my shop tonight.'

Frankie had almost wept in relief at that. If she had gone right ahead and quit as planned, Thornton would have been her first failure - the one and only time that she would've failed completing a task that Mayor Winterbourne had given her.

But all's well that ends well, she had congratulated herself then, and it was only when Frankie had already collected the e-signatures of both parties and the address of Thornton's bookshop sent via text to Blake that she realized one gross oversight.

Did...Thornton Blackwood...just refer...to Blake...as...him?

Blake noticed the way Frankie seemed lost in thought as her friend mechanically shoved forkfuls of salad into her mouth while her expression grew increasingly peevish. "I know that look."

Frankie glanced up, startled by the words. "Huh?"

"We have truffle in our salad, and you don't look like you're enjoying it one bit. That only means one thing," Blake concluded smugly. "You, my friend, were once again thinking about my beloved—-"

Frankie started gagging, and Blake burst into laughter.

"Bleeeeeeh." Frankie was genuinely revolted at the mere idea of Blake and Thornton dating, much less becoming a couple that called each other 'beloved'. "And I wasn't thinking about him. It was more like recalling a traumatic memory about him—-"

"You know he's not that bad," Blake protested.

"He is," Frankie retorted. "Everyoneknowshe is! You're the only one who doesn't see it."

"Frankie!" But Blake's tone was one of laughing admonishment. "You do remember that you're the one who told me about this job, right? I mean, you should never have told me to apply in the first place—-"

"I wasn't thinking straight at that time," Frankie defended herself, "And—-" Her voice lowered into a mutter. "I didn't really think he'd hire you."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Blake said dryly, but the dig just went over her friend's head.

"How did you get him to hire you anyway?" Frank couldn't help prying. "You never really told me."

Blake gave her friend a coy smile. "A lady never tells—-"

It was as if her friend was suggesting that she had seduced—-

No. Yuck. Ugh. Just no.

Blake grinned when Frankie started gagging again. She knew what her friend was thinking, but actually...

Chapter Two

SEVEN WEEKS AGO

Blake felt like pinching herself the moment she saw what could be her future workplace. Although moonlight wasn't enough to give Hartland Books justice, what she saw was more than enough to make her heart skip a beat.

The enchantingly quaint signage and the old-school bricks, and then there was the bulletin corkboard behind a glass panel: stepping close to it, Blake saw that the Instax sheets pinned to them were Instagram photos featuring famous literary quotes.

Whoever owned this place clearly loved books as much as she did, and the knowledge buoyed her spirits. It was like finding a rose in the midst of winter, and Blake's anxiety over Amanda faded just a little bit more once she entered the shop. More marvelously beautiful sights greeted her: the ceiling-high bookshelves, the gorgeous first-edition tomes displayed in one corner, and the reading nook in another.

It was like being transported to a bookish slice of heaven, and all she could do was stare and stare and stare—-

"We're closed."

The words startled Blake, and as soon as her head jerked up, her gaze automatically clashed with a pair of onyx black eyes.

Oh my gosh.

A man stood behind the counter, tall, dark, and with a lean, hard build that his denim buttoned-up shirt and jeans only served to accentuate. He had the longish, raven locks of a Regency rake, the piercing eyes of a pirate, and the cruelly sensual lips of a poet.

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