Page 10 of The Love Syllabus

As I straighten my tie one last time, the rumble of laughter from my family fades into the background, replaced by the soft closing of my bedroom door. I stride toward the foyer, where my driver, Gary, awaits with a knowing smile.

“You ready to have some fun tonight, Mr. Grimes?” Gary asks, opening the door for me with a flourish.

“Fun? What’s that?” I chuckle dryly, the concept feeling foreign after years of solitude.

Gary, who’s been with me for over a decade, gives me a pointed look through the rearview mirror as we drive. “It’s what you used to be all about, Sir. The fun, charming ladies’ man who settled down and fell in love. Maybe you’ll meet a woman and fall head over heels again.”

I shrug dismissively, staring out at the passing streetlights. “Those kinds of things only happen once in a lifetime, Gary.”

“Mr. Grimes, you’ve lived more lifetimes in your years than many do in several. You deserve to find happiness again. Maybe stepping out of your comfort zone tonight is a good start.”

His words linger in the air, a gentle nudge toward a future I’ve been reluctant to imagine. We pull up to Waylen’s Flower Shop, a grand establishment adorned with vibrant floral displays that cast a warm glow onto the street. The shop is right next to the land I recently purchased for the new restaurant—a constant reminder of the pressure to succeed in my professional and personal life.

Taking a deep breath, I nod to Gary. “I’ll be ready in about 30 minutes.”

Gary laughs. “I’ll be out here in 45, then. Remember, fun!”

I step out, adjusting my jacket as I approach the rustic yet elegant building. The interior hums with life, the silhouettes of well-dressed locals moving behind the large windows, but despite my wealth and once well-known public persona, I don’t know any of these people. My brother securesandcloses the business deals. The deals that have made me a star. He’s the schmoozer, the social butterfly. I’vealways preferred to focus on the restaurants and be the mysterious,hidden,enigma behind the success.

But that freedom’s over, and it’s time for me to enter the spotlight. Be charming, I remind myself. And most importantly, don’t be an asshole.

Pausing before the entrance, I take a moment to steady myself. Then, I see a woman looking through the large paned glass. Her skin is a canvas of glowing brown. Her curly hair frames her face in a halo of soft curls, and her body is elegantly draped in a pink gown that lovingly clings to every sexy curve. She looks like laughter, life, and sex wrapped in silk. She’s breathtaking. She’s gorgeous. Simply gorgeous.

For a moment, I forget myself and watch her, still peeking through the window but seemingly having a conversation with herself.

“Ooh, that guy looks like he owns a company. Small talk, Kerry. Don’t stick your foot in your mouth. Know your worth and secure your future.” She mutters to herself, straightening her posture, not realizing I can hear every word.

The spell breaks. My initial enchantment gives way to disillusionment as her distasteful intentions sink in.

A sigh slips from me, laced with disappointment. I groan to myself, frustrated by the perils of small-town ambitions, “Gold diggers. Can’t escape them.”

But as I reach for the door handle, her hand wraps around mine like a jolt, and not the static kind, but the kind that zips straight to your chest and shoots through me.

I feet an intense, passionate zing, but she apparently doesn’t because she abruptly turns to me and slams the door shut, aggressively pressing her hand down on mine.

Her head snaps up, and she narrows her eyes in a fiery gaze. “What’d you just call me?” She says in her sharp, sweet, and Southern voice.

Caught, but unwilling to back down, I meet her glare head-on. “I called you what you are. A gold digger sizing up your next mark. I literally just caught you in the act, woman.”

Her jaw clenches, her breath sharp. “‘Woman,’” she snaps, mimicking my dismissive tone. She then pauses, her eyes lustfully raking over me with fresh scrutiny. “At least you got that part right, so I guess you’re not a complete asshole. But the next time you see me, you better show me some damn respect, you…you little grey-haired handsome devil!”

I blink, thrown off by the unexpected insult-compliment hybrid. A laugh escapes before I can stop it, and there’s an unspoken attraction as we size each other up. She bites her lip while I lick mine.

Still, she doesn’t flinch, though her posture shifts, defensive yet undeniably captivating. And despite the tension crackling between us, there’s something else simmering beneath it. Curiosity? Intrigue? Hell, if I know.

But it’s so strong that I reach out, almost without thinking, gently tucking a stray curl behind her ear, allowing my fingertips to graze her velvet-smooth skin. My often neatly guarded desires are uncharacteristically out of control right now.

“You’re beautiful when you’re angry,” I murmur, my voice dropping lower than I intended. “I wonder how good you look when you’re happy.”

Her gasp is sharp, indignant, but her lips twitch at the corners, betraying her.

“Enjoy securing your future, gold digger,” I add with a smirk, stepping back.

She lets out an exasperated huff, maintaining her furrowed brow and unamused smile while opening the door. “For the record, I don’t need tomarkanyone. I can have whoever I want, but Ichooseto have no one at all, and I’ll keep choosing no one when assholes like you are walking around this godforsaken town. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going inside. And don’t you dare stare at my ass, Grey Beard.”

With that, she turns on her heel and strides into the shop, her gown swaying hypnotically with each step. Despite her warning, my eyes linger on the graceful curve of her hips and perfectly round ass, leaving me momentarily spellbound yet again.

Inside, the crowd buzzes with excitement, yet all I can think about is the beautiful small-town gold digger who just put me in my place and turned me on all at once.

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