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She stood there staring at me with those green eyes that had to be as wide as mine, shock freezing her mouth into a perfect “O”.

Tension bound the air, and that crazy attraction that had haunted my dreams all weekend was right there.

Simmering between us like one of those chaotic summer thunderstorms that gathered over the lake. The kind of storm you knew was going to rock your entire world.

Blinking, she inhaled a big breath and seemed to shake herself out of it. She ran her hands over the tiny black apron tied around her even tinier waist, smoothing herself out. Rolling back her shoulders, she plastered the fakest smile I’d ever seen across her pretty face.

“What can I get for you this morning?” The slightest country drawl tumbled out with her words.

She was fucking adorable.

One side of my mouth lifted in a smirk. “You really know how to hit a man where it hurts, don’t you, Princess? Acting like you don’t remember me? Come now, don’t break my heart. Tell me I’m really not that forgettable.”

Her eyes narrowed like she was trying to figure out what to make of me. “Actually, I’m trying to decide if you really are stalking me.”

A light chuckle rumbled out. “Someone seems to be feeling a little full of themselves again this morning.”

There was no way I could stop myself from baiting this girl.

Her eyes roamed over my best suit—the one I’d donned for the day, knowing I would be stepping through the doors of my new office for the first time in partnership with a group of physicians who had years of experience on me.

The day would be nothing but meetings with staff and reviewing cases that I’d be taking on, intermingled with the few patients they’d already scheduled me to see.

Let’s just say those nerves I’d been riddled with all last night had me putting my best foot forward, because in my world, there was always, always something to prove.

Still, I felt like a king with the way she gulped as she took me in, the air flaring with the track of her gaze, her hands visibly shaking.

She seemed to swallow it all down and pasted on an expression of decided indifference. “Says the guy with the five-thousand-dollar suit.”

I tsked. “Seems someone loves to exaggerate. It was only four.”

She pressed her hand to her chest. “Oh my, you must excuse my naivety.”

So fucking adorable.

Taking a step forward, I set my palms on the counter in front of the register and leaned in. My voice dropped. “I think there’s a chance you can be forgiven. I’m not above a bribe.”

So what if I injected about as much suggestion as I could into the simple words.

It worked.

Because this gorgeous girl was fighting a genuine smile as she ducked her head to the side to try to hide the flush splashed across the milky expanse of her chest.

That exquisite color rode up and lit on her cheeks.

Seemed as hard as she tried to front a brash exterior, all I had to do was peel back a single layer to expose the shyness underneath.

She barely peeked at me when she whispered back, “How kind of you.”

Clearly, she was still trying to play along, but I got the feeling this girl didn’t typically flirt or tease. That she felt completely out of her element.

And damn, if I didn’t like that, too.

“Are you?” she suddenly asked, her question an uneasy murmur, not even a hint of playfulness in it.

Confusion drew my brows together. “Am I what?”

Her voice dipped even lower, the girl whispering out of the corner of her mouth. “You know . . . stalking me?”

Soft, amused laughter escaped, and I scratched at my temple, shaking my head.

She was something else, all feisty fire and soft-spoken uncertainty.

“Um . . . I’m pretty sure that’s a question anyone would answer as no, truth or not. But for what it’s worth, I promise you that I’m not. I’m starting a new position up the street this morning. I was a little early, so figured I’d check out what A Drop of Hope had to offer. Name’s Kale. Kale Bryant.”

A small gust of relief blew from her lungs, and she fiddled with her fingers. “Hope. Hope Masterson.”

Hope.

A Drop of Hope.

That feeling was back again. It was the same one that had forced me to walk away from her Friday night. The sense that this girl was way too good to be chased and hunted and played. The game was totally unfair if she didn’t know how to play it back.

She shocked me again when she asked, “So, Mr. Bryant, tell me what kind of bribe you had in mind.”

She said it with the hint of a smile dancing around that soft, plush mouth.

Answer to that was easy.

Exactly the kind there was no chance this girl would entertain.


Tags: A.L. Jackson Fight for Me Romance