Page 10 of The Billionaire's Runaway Bride

Yeah, I’ll make this mine. Seeing Marian so frazzled and down when she points out all that she wants to do but doesn’t have time for, I grow excited. I will do this for her. She—and the Goldfinch—are going to be my mission. Maybe I’m latching on to it all, imprinted like a duck to Marian being the first leader or guardian in my life, but it feels good to have a purpose.

“The summer tourist season is beginning, but if I don’t get more customers booked, I’m afraid I’ll have to close it all and give up.”

I shake my head. “No. Don’t. I can’t wait to help.” I drag my finger along the edge of the railing in front of the cottage. “I’m not sure if I’ll be a Jill of all trades, but I’ll tell you this. I can’t wait to slap on a new coat of paint here.”

Marian grins. “It’s on the list. And you can have at it, but there’s one catch.”

“What’s that?”

“I don’t have any paint.” She jerks her thumb at her cottage. “Which you can fix tomorrow. You can take the truck into town and get some, but first, let’s have lunch and get you more settled.”

As I spend the afternoon and evening with Marian, I share more about myself and Jeremy. She cautions me not to become jaded, but I can’t help if I do. After the way he’s treated me, I feel entitled to some attitude.

“If Hank gets pushy at the hardware store tomorrow, you just tell him I’ll be having a word with him.” She rolls her eyes.

Great. “There can’t be too many eligible men in Breckenridge.”

“No,” she agrees. “So, if you’re determined to avoid men, I’d say you’ve chosen a good place to do it. Truly, though, we’re a close-knit community.” She pats my hand. “You can count on it.”

I draw in a deep breath and feel like I can finally stop worrying. For the first time since I told Aubrey I couldn’t marry Jeremy, the last trace of utter panic seeps out of me.

I can just be, here, and when I go to bed in my cottage that night, I sleep well and wake up feeling like this is the first day of the rest of my life.

Marian is busy greeting guests, but I manage to ask her what paint color she wants.

“I do like yellow, but you choose.” She gives me a wink.

So I take my leave and head into town for that paint. I know I’ve got to do some prep work before painting, but I’m excited to purchase something cheery and bright, something that’ll do the B&B’s name justice.

A nice, sunny yellow. Something to capture the eye. Any color would do because a fresh coat of paint makes everything look new again, but I’m feeling bright and excited for the first time in forever. Sunshine yellow it is.

I’m easily distracted in town. It’s a cute, quaint little mountain town, unlike anything I’ve grown used to at home. Dad’s vineyards are extensive and posh. Their home is an immaculate mansion. And the place Jeremy and I were going to move into was ridiculously large and gaudy.

If I’m not careful, I could grow attached to this place. Breckenridge isn’t shabby, and when I pull over by the hardware store, I decide to use that five in my pocket to check out the coffee at that place on the corner. Caffeine always helps.

I’m not decided on anything past this cup of coffee and getting some paint for Marian. Helping her improve the Goldfinch is my mission, but I can’t tell how long it’ll last. For one thing, she can’t be serious about keeping me on for good. It feels good to not worry about the long-term. I’ll keep my eyes and mind open and take things as they come—and that seems like the pace of this small town.

But I won’t consider losing sight of the one new goal in my life.

No men. Heck no.

I won’t have any time or desire to start up anything with any—

“Whoa!”

Strong hands grip my upper arms just before I’m plowed over. The deep voice belongs to the ruggedly handsome man who just caught himself from completely colliding with me.

My heart bangs quickly in my chest. Not only from the shock and fear of falling, but also from the heated, smoldering gaze this man rakes over me.

I know that look.

He grins.

I know that smile too. He’s sizing me up like he wants to devour me.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?”

I cringe.

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