Page 5 of Lovewell Lane

“Who doesn’t?”

She nodded, clearly appreciative of that answer. “I’ll bring you bread, then.”

“That’s really not necessary,” I stated.

Nosey as always, Sam opened the office door to interrupt our conversation. “He loves bread. He goes out of his way to buy freshly baked sourdough from a bakery a few towns over every Sunday.”

The woman’s eyes lit up at Sam’s declaration. “Good to know. I’m Margo.”

Sam crossed the floor and shook hands with her. “Sam. Great to meet you, welcome to town.” He took a few steps closer to pat me on the shoulder. I was in the middle of figuring out how to soundproof the damn office when he spoke again, “Derek here is slow to warm up, but if you need anything, he’d be more than happy to help.”

“I will keep that in mind,” Margo replied while not looking convinced.

“And he has a daughter, she’ll love these. Thank you,” Sam said while stealing the neatly wrapped cookies from me.

Margo smiled. “Oh, good. They’re chocolate chip. It’s my secret recipe.” She looked out the windows to the street. “I should go find my new home for the time being. Thanks for the directions.”

I did my best attempt at a polite nod when she looked at me. “Good luck.”

“Where are you staying?” Sam just could not let a conversation end.

Margo turned around, one hand on the door. “Oh, someone is renting out a guest house to me. So, I’ll be right here in town.”

“Great, well, we’ll see you around then,” Sam retorted with a big smile. Growing up, adults always told us he was the most like my father. It was in times like these that I realized how true that statement was. Sam was charming, a little too charming in my book. And for the first time, something in me grew annoyed at his effortless ability to smooth talk anyone.

The second the door closed, I turned to Sam. “What poor idiot rented out their house to a stranger?”

“It’s a normal thing now, old man. There are entire apps for renting out your house, someone probably just needed more money on the side.”

I internally groaned while picking up the boxes that spilled everywhere. “I bet she lasts less than three months.”

Sam glared at me like a disappointed parent. He was only two years younger than I was. While I was the makeshift parental figure in our family growing up, Sam grew up fast too, and never let me slide when I was being a dick.

“I was plenty nice to her,” I defended. “You should be proud.”

3

Margo

“I’m telling you, the man hated my guts,” I exclaimed into my phone.

“Let me get this right,” Scarlet giggled in my ear. She was clearly getting a kick out of this. “You’ve met one man, and now you’re certain the entire project is a bust?”

“I’m telling you, Scar, he practically told me not to let the door hit me on the way out. I brought him cookies and hestillhated me. And who isn’t a dessert person? This town must be filled with serial killers.”

“But he was hot,” she urged. “You never care this much about what men think of you.”

Hot was an understatement. Mr. Farmer Store Man was right out of my dreams. Tall, muscley– but not in the body-builder way, in the blue-collar working-hard-for-a-living way. Which was infinitely hotter. His jaw was constantly clenched like he had a perpetual scowl on his face. He even caught me to save me from falling on my ass after I ran into his rock solid chest. Maybe it was just my presence that was pissing him off.

Not to mention his accent. Holy shit. His southern drawl nearly made me choke. If a man ever called me baby in that thick, low, honey-coated voice, I might die.

“He wasn’t bad looking,” I said nonchalantly. I was trying to focus more on his lack of excitement over freshly bakedcookies. I didn’t even know non-dessert people actually existed.

“I’m sure you’ll win him over. Maybe he was just having a bad day.”

I huffed. “I just hope this AirBnB host is nice. So far, this place looks deserted. Hot Farmer and his brother are the only people I’ve even seen yet.”

“So he is hot,” Scarlet cheered.

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