“Tell them you two are joking,” I hissed at them.

I turned just in time to see a very small, very attractive woman winding up to hit me over the head with her purse.

47

HARPER (ONCE UPON A BET SNEAK PEAK)

I pulled up to McDermit’s General Store in my old PT Cruiser, Rose. Rose was the kind of car that had been around the block and hadn’t exactly been given an oil change on any of those trips around the block. Or new tires. Or any of the other things you’re supposed to do to keep your car in good running condition.

I loved the car, but I was the wrong combination of poor and car illiterate to really take care of it. She let out a chugging, choking sound and gave a happy little shake when I put her in park and turned off the engine. I tried to imagine it like a cute dog shivering before curling up to sleep.

It definitely didn’t have anything to do with all the flashing warning lights about my engine on the dash.

I needed to grab a few supplies and then hurry back home to work on the catering order for tomorrow night. Fairhope was a small town, and it was exactly the kind of small town that threw adorable little events almost every weekend. We had the slippery pig chase, the butt-balloon-buster, the town wide hide and seek, and dozens of other yearly events to look forward to. Tomorrow night was what we called the Night of Lights, where all the kids let paper lanterns loose at the bottom of the river and tried to race up to the bridge on Mainstreet in time to see which one came through first.

And I was going to get the perfect opportunity to show off what I’d learned on my brief culinary tour in France by catering it all. In our little world, the fact that I’d gone out of the country to study the culinary arts was just about the most exciting thing that had happened in recent memory. I’d been back over two months and I still got asked about it almost every day.

I popped into McDermit’s and froze at the door, eyes going wide.

There was a man in line who towered over everybody. He was stacked with muscle, but I couldn’t quite see his face. He was wearing a t-shirt and jeans, and I found my eyes locked on the shape of his broad, delicious shoulders, tapered waist, and long legs. He looked like he could’ve picked up the entire beverage fridge and tossed it through a window without breaking a sweat. Or picked me up and dragged me kicking and squealing back to whatever sexy cave he came from…

Be cool, Harper. Don’t stare like a freak. I smoothed my forehead and plastered a comically casual expression on my face. Don’t mind me, folks. Just strolling through the store with no particular purpose.

As discreetly as I could, I started browsing in a direction that would let me get a better look at him. Fairhope was a small enough town that a man like this didn’t just escape notice. So who was he?