Page 5 of Perfect Pact

Chapter 1

Beth

“HattieJackson!”Hazelcallsacross the coffee shop at her twin sister, who’s standing in line right in front of me.

“This should be fun.” Hattie rolls her eyes, fluffing up her not-quite-blue, not-really-purple dyed hair. Plastering a smile on her face, she spins around. “Well, I’ll be damned. Hazel Jackson has risen from the dead.”

Hazel stops in her tracks, looking a tad—I don’t know…less put together today. Which is totally not like her. These ladies may be in their seventies, but they don’t act like it. Self-proclaimed Mason Creek informational guides aka town gossip queens, these ladies center themselves around drama, sometimes even becoming the next headline. Which I’m guessing is the case today.

I should order my coffee and go, but I need the distraction. Especially since I’m basically spending my last ten dollars on coffee and a pastry. I mean, it’s not my best life choice, but I don’t care. Coffee today, worry tomorrow.

Hopping out of line, I move to the back to watch the Jackson sisters take each other down.

“Wh-What do you mean?” Hazel’s eyes dart around to see who’s tuned in to their little show while smoothing down her white swing dress with cherry’s plastered all over it. It’s her everyday attire complimenting her signature red hair.

“I see what you’re doing here, Hattie.” Hazel gathers her composure. “And it’s not going to work.”

Hattie gasps. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“The new sign!” Hazel steps forward. “It’s huckleberry purple.”

“Is it?” Hattie feigns her innocence.

“You know it is.” Hazel waggles her finger at Hattie. “We agreed on red and purple. The cherry and huckleberry. Hazel and Hattie. It’s our brand.”

“Well, if you wouldn’t have been moonlighting with a certain mister, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.”

This is getting good. Everyone is looking, even the barista is trying to watch as she tries to keep the line moving.

“What are we watching?” a panty-melting voice whispers directly behind me, tickling my neck, sending a shiver down my spine.

“Excuse me?” I step forward and turn around, taken off guard by the proximity of a gorgeous man in a freshly-pressed dress shirt, sleeves rolled up, exposing muscular forearms, with a 5 o’clock shadow dusting his face and looking yummier than the raspberry lemon tart that I’ve been eyeing since the moment I got here.

“The show.” He nods to the counter where Hattie and Hazel, have moved aside to continue their very public discussion—while it’s business as usual in the cafe. It’s pretty much a regular thing between them.

I glance over seeing them still arguing about the huckleberry purple sign. “I guess you aren’t from around here.”

I narrow my eyes wondering what this guy’s deal is. Given his slicked back hair, grey slacks, and overly starched shirt. I’m willing to bet he’s probably a suit looking to buy up some land. It’s not uncommon for these city slickers to show up, try to blend in, while they scout locations for their next resort.

“That obvious?” The suit smirks as we move up in line and he leans against the counter.

I shrug, eyeing him up then down.

“You think it’s too dressy for Mason Creek?”

I point to his polished brown leather wingtip loafers. “Trade those in for a pair of boots and you’ll do just fine.”

The suit eyes his shoes, frowning. “I’ve got an idea.”

Here we go.

“How about we exchange numbers and you can help me find a pair of these boots you’re talking about.” He brings his arm up and examines his very expensive looking gold watch. “I have a meeting shortly, but maybe later today?”

This is really happening.

All I wanted is a cup of joe and a raspberry lemon tart—not a man to sweep me off my feet only to leave after a weekend of multiple orgasms.

Well, maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. It’s been almost two years since I was last with someone. A very single, totally emotionally unavailable someone: Grady Jackson.

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