Page 23 of All Mine

She pursed her lips, turned, and left.

“Lauren, wait,” I called. Then my bare feet took me out of my room, down the hall after her against my will.

“Don’t,” she said, pushing the elevator call button.

“Let’s talk…”

“What else do you have to say?” she whirled around to face me, those deep brown eyes blazing.

“Keep your voice down.”

“Why? Are you afraid for everyone to know what an asshole you are?”

“No, I’m afraid you’re going to wake up the whole damn building, woman.” It was a wonder people weren’t complaining already. I sure would if some couple woke me up having a stupid argument.

“Then go back to your room.”

“I want to talk.”

“Don’t buy the land.”

“Not an option. If I don’t, then someone else will.”

“And you won’t get your money.”

“Town’s either change or they die,” I said. “Have you noticed all the empty businesses? So change isn’t a bad thing.”

The elevator doors opened, and a tall man with a bushy beard stood there. Adrian.

“Hey man,” he said. “Come on, Lauren. You need to get back.”

Lauren stood, hands-on-hips seething, and for some reason, the image of throwing her over my shoulder and taking her back to my hotel room popped into my head.

“What are you doing here?” I asked Adrian.

“I drove Lauren so she wouldn’t kill anyone on the way.”

Smart guy. “So you know too?”

Adrian nodded. “Not much can stay a secret in this town. Not for long anyway.”

That was an understatement. Less than twelve hours after my meeting with the landlord, Lewis Palmer, at least one tenant already knew. And it was the one I wanted to bang. Talk about a cock block.

“Hey,” I said to her in a low voice, “Let me take you out to dinner to explain.”

The sweet little southern belle got into the elevator and gave me the finger as the doors closed.

Ten

Lauren

As Adrian drove me back across town to the bakery, I slumped in the passenger’s seat of his old beat-up Ford truck. The shoulders, chest, and ridges of Camden’s cut torso in low slung boxers made an unwelcomed appearance in my mind. Then there was his erection, making his underwear stand out like a pop-up book—the things I could do to that man.

No, I pushed all of that out of my mind. Camden was out to destroy our businesses and change the way the town looked forever. And he’d flirted with me only because of the Hart name and the misconceptions he had over that. It was yet another poor decision on my part with men. He was the enemy.

Hart Valley passed by bathed in the glow of morning sunlight with my friends and neighbors getting started on the day. In comparison, it may not look like the big cities where Camden lived. With its town square anchored by the old courthouse built in 1855, charming houses, and the lake, it was a quaint, perfect small town. And some development had taken place over the years. There were three hotels and a motel, and Mr. Global Development himself had chosen the nicest for his stay.

“Hey,” Adrian said low, blessedly breaking my train of thought.

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