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• Flexible Hours

• Competitive Pay ($25/hr)

• Full Benefits (Including Health/Dental)

• No Experience Required

• Peaceful Work Environment

• Employee Book Discount (50% off!)

• Paid Vacation

• 401k Match

• Coffee Bar Privileges

Ipressed my face against the glass like a kid at a candy store. What kind of small-town bookstore offered full benefits? And twenty-five dollars an hour? In this economy? It had to be a typo. Or a scam. Or maybe I’d wandered into an alternate dimension where retail jobs actually paid living wages.

“Too bad,” I muttered, but I still took a picture of the contact number. Just in case the whole half-million-dollar cottage deal fell through. Which it wouldn’t. Probably. Maybe I should apply anyway, just to—

I was still staring at my phone when I rounded the corner and slammed straight into what felt like a very expensive wall. Hot coffee splashed everywhere—all over what I realized was an absolutely pristine suit. A suit that was currently being worn by the most devastatingly handsome man I’d ever seen.

Oh God.

He was tall—everyone was tall compared to me, but he was tall—with sharp, aristocratic features that belonged in a Renaissance painting. Dark hair styled to perfection, not a strand out of place despite our collision. Ice-blue eyes that seemed to pierce right through me, gleaming with an intelligence that made me feel like prey in the best possible way. His jawline could cut glass, and the five o’clock shadow only emphasized its perfection. The suit fit him like it had been poured on, highlighting broad shoulders that tapered to a trim waist, the whole effect screaming ‘power’ in a way that made my knees weak.

My scar exploded with sensation, a tingling heat that spread through my whole body like wildfire. My heart wasn’t just racing—it was thundering against my ribs, threatening to burst right out of my chest. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. All I could do was stare up at him like an idiot while my body had what felt like a spiritual awakening.

“I am so sorry,” I managed to squeak out, watching coffee drip down his obviously custom-made tie. “I wasn’t looking where—your suit—I’ll pay for the cleaning—” I did some quick mental math and winced. “Over the course of several years with a very reasonable payment plan?”

His lips curved into a smile that did dangerous things to my internal organs. “No harm done.” His voice was deep, rich, commanding in a way that made me want to do whatever he said. It resonated through my chest like distant thunder. “Though I seem to have ruined your shirt as well.”

I glanced down at my now coffee-stained t-shirt, which read I’m Not Short, I’m Fun-Sized. Great. Meeting the most gorgeous man in existence while wearing novelty clothing. Just perfect.

“Oh, this old thing?” I waved dismissively, trying for casual and probably hitting somewhere around manic. “I was planning to tie-dye it anyway. Very avant-garde. Coffee is the new black.”

One perfect eyebrow arched. “Is it now?”

“Absolutely. I’m practically a trendsetter.” I gestured to the growing stain. “Though I do feel terrible about your suit. It probably costs more than my student loans.”

“The suit is replaceable.” He studied me with those intense eyes, and I swore the temperature rose ten degrees. “Your afternoon plans, however, might not be. Let me make it up to you.”

Warning bells went off in my head. He had that same dangerous grace as Caleb, that same too-perfect presence. Another Stone brother? But no—the Stones were supposed to be mountain men, all flannel and rugged charm. This man looked like he’d stepped out of aForbescover shoot.

“Oh, no, really, I couldn’t—”

“I insist.” There was steel beneath the velvet of his voice. Not threatening, but… commanding. Like he wasn’t used to being refused. “There’s an excellent café around the corner. Unless you have somewhere else to be?”

My stomach chose that moment to growl. Traitor.

His smile widened, showing perfect white teeth that seemed just a touch too sharp. “I’ll take that as a no. I’m Marcus, by the way.”

“Kai,” I replied before I could stop myself. “And… okay. But just coffee. And maybe a sandwich. If they have sandwiches. Not that I’m assuming you’re buying me lunch or anything—”

“They have excellent sandwiches.” He placed a hand on my lower back to guide me, and my brain short-circuited. The touch sent electricity through my whole body, making my scar burn in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. “I recommend the prosciutto and fig.”

“Fancy,” I managed, trying to ignore how my body was leaning into his touch like a flower toward the sun. “Do they have anything that costs less than my monthly rent?”

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