Page 60 of That Kind of Guy

“Very good.” Harold collected the papers. “Thank you for your business.”

I waited. “That’s it?”

Harold blinked. “Were you expecting something else?”

Emmett raised an eyebrow at me, amused.

“No, I guess not.” I shrugged.

It wasn’t supposed to be this easy. I didn’t even have to work for it. Yes, I had to endure Emmett and play pretend with him but let’s be real, it wasn’tthatdifficult.

And now I had the loan, so I could buy the restaurant as soon as Keiko returned from her most recent trip to Vancouver.

Harold wove his fingers together and looked uncomfortable while Emmett stood up.

“We’ll get out of your hair. Thanks, Harold.” Emmett reached for my hand. “Come on, darling.”

I stared at where our hands were joined as I let him lead me out of the bank, but just before the doors, someone called his name.

“Emmett,” a woman about his mom’s age said, walking up to us. “Do you have a moment to sign the Backpack Buddies paperwork?”

“Sure.” He turned to me. “I’ll just be a second.” His fingers brushed my arm before he headed over.

I waited outside and a few minutes later, he joined me. “Sorry about that.”

I shook my head. “No problem. What’s Backpack Buddies?”

“It’s nothing. I’m hungry again.” He nodded his chin to the main street, where tents and booths had been set up with local food and crafts. “Let’s wander through the farmer’s market.”

Something in his expression caught my attention though. Embarrassment? He wouldn’t meet my gaze. He was very focused

“What is it?” I pressed.

He shook his head again and grabbed my hand. “Nothing. Do you think they have those waffles again?”

With my other hand, I slipped my phone out of my back pocket and googled ‘backpack buddies.’

“Backpack Buddies is a school program on Vancouver Island that provides backpacks of food for low-income school children so they may have nutritious meals for evenings and weekends,” I read as we walked toward the market, hand in hand. My insides melted like ice cream on a hot day.

Emmett groaned and rolled his eyes. “You’re really nosy, you know that?”

“Emmett,” I said in a teasing tone.

He ignored me.

“Emmett,” I dropped his hand and tucked myself under his arm. “Are you secretly a good guy?”

His brow furrowed. “It’s for the tax write-off.”

I shook my head. “No, it isn’t.”

He finally looked at me and my stomach did a slow, delicious roll. His gaze settled on me and I felt so comfortably warm. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“Why not?”

He shrugged and looked away. “It’s sleazy, using that for the campaign. I want to focus on things I can do for the town.”

I couldn’t help the smile that crept on my face. “Alright. I won’t say a word.”

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