She and Whitney started to discuss the possibility of an entire new dating pool moving into town while I stood there in shock.

I wanted to ask her how. How had he done this? How had it all happened so fast? It didn’t seem possible.

But I knew how. An insane amount of money and a staff in Monterra who probably had the whole thing wrapped up and ready to go with a shiny bow before breakfast this morning.

I realized that was what he wanted to talk to the town council about last week. Christopher had announced that the factory had closed at the end of that meeting.

And SuperRafe had come to the rescue.

That was what I got for trying to ignore him. He went and made the whole town fall in love with him.

Jobs with benefits. Renting out unused space. Potentially importing eligible men.

It was diabolical.

“Son of a ...” I muttered under my breath. I didn’t finish the sentence because I actually really liked Queen Aria.

Mr.Olafsson was outside of the old pharmacy—I mean, Rafe’s new offices. He had owned a printing shop in town many years ago. Rafe came out to shake hands with him. They chatted for a few minutes, and Mr.Olafsson showed him a big banner that read, “Royal Productions.” Rafe went in and came back out with a ladder, hanging the banner on the awning over the main door.

This made no logical sense. And if nothing else, Rafe was logical. How did he expect to start up a software company in Frog Hollow? And have it succeed?

Here I thought he was spending all his time playing video games and figuring out ways to win me over. No, he was masterminding a plan to end all plans.

It was like the more I wanted him to go away, the harder he tugged back on the bridle like some obstinate mule. He was putting down some roots here. I’d be in serious trouble if he bought a house.

But the main problem now was the devastation his leaving would cause this town.

Because he was going to leave. We were not getting back together. That was nonnegotiable.

“Sorry I’m late,” I told Nicole, out of breath.

“No worries. Can you go check on the younger kids? I’m going to run lines with the older ones.”

“Sure thing ...” My voice trailed off when I saw Rafe again hard at work constructing a set. He was talking to a couple of the teen boys who were helping out, teaching them how to reinforce corners. Off to one side, a group of high school girls were watching his every movement, their heads swiveling in unison whenever he moved. Like a herd of crazy, starving cats watching a bird fall out of the sky.

“He’s all broody like a vampire.” Nicole sighed, her eyes widening when she realized she’d said it out loud and I’d heard her.

I couldn’t be mad. I didn’t own him.And you know he’d never go after Nicole, so you don’t have to be jealous,an impish voice whispered. “You know that’s not a good thing, right?”

“Speak for yourself. In my world, broody vampires are an excellent thing.” She called her group over to start practicing, and the teen girls reluctantly tore themselves away. It was then that Rafe spotted me, giving me one of those smiles that made my blood blaze.

I wanted to ask him about his business plans and how they related to me. I wanted to understand why he had done it. But if I let him explain, it might be one less thing for me to be upset about. So instead I asked, “Where did you learn to build things?”

He looked down at the hammer still in his hand. “I worked for Habitat for Humanity in Eastern Europe the summer after Veronique died.”

Veronique? Who was Veronique? I nearly asked him. I didn’t have to, though. I could have looked it up online. But I wouldn’t. What if I looked it up, and Veronique was related to this explanation he kept hinting at, and it changed how I felt?

Would that be such a bad thing?

Stupid voice. Yes! That would be a very bad thing. He had already destroyed my heart once. If I let him do it again, I wasn’t sure I would recover. Rafe was dangerous. He was not the reliable, husbandly type. He was the international, hot, supermodel-esque, royal prince type. The kind of guy who probably had to spend a good twenty minutes every morning peeling off all the women who had thrown themselves at him.

I believed in forgiveness, and in theory I wanted to practice it, but I wasn’t dumb enough to forget.

“Okay. Cool. I’m supposed to be over there.” I pointed to where the elementary and middle school kids were working on props and routines for the talent show. A whisper of a smile played over his lips, and I knew he knew that I was trying to hide from him.

Exasperated, I walked over to the kid I knew and liked the best. Henry. He was eleven years old and reminded me of a young Harry Potter, with dark brown hair that was always sticking out in forty different directions and thick glasses that he could never keep up at the top of his nose. He wore a magician’s hat and a cape.

You like that he looks like a young, Americanized Rafe. The voice was back. I told it to shut up and leave for the night. I was busy.