Page 15 of The Christmas Blueprint

“Meh.” She shrugged. “I’m not looking for a builder. And I don’t really need a planner or permission.”

If he was really the city planner, then she sort of did. It’s not like anyone had put her in charge for devising a plan for this building in the Applegate Mill, but Zhang Shi, who owned the entire complex had drafted a proposal to donate the building if the city’s plan dovetailed with his development.

Sophia bet Jeffrey Bane was not happy about any strings.

She knew he and his father had coveted the entire complex for years, but the heirs hadn’t liked the Banes’ lowball offers. The mayor likely wouldn’t like her plans either, but she wasn’t afraid of him, and if she wanted to prove to her family and community that she was ready to move on and create the life she wanted to lead, she couldn’t balk at the first few hurdles.

It’s only going to get easier.

But she didn’t really want easy. She wanted enduring. Purpose.

“What’s your play, Soph?”

“Stop calling me Soph.” She sounded like the petulant teen she’d once been.

“Sophia Inez Gonzales.” He huffed out a breath and again slid his fingers through his oh-so-tempting hair.

Inez for her grandmother. He remembered. Her heart leapt, and she caught a stronger whiff of him. Alluring man musk hinted through the fresh pine, cedar, hemlock, and bark scent that felt visceral to her as if she wanted to take a bite. She’d come to love the woods that surrounded the Rogue Valley and marched up the mountain ranges where Enrique had dragged her out on the many trails when they’d started dating.

“Andrew Killian Flanagan,” she said his full name a second time.

“I told you, I haven’t been called Andrew in a while. In fact, I haven’t answered to Andrew or Drew since I left.” His voice hardened. “It was my father’s name, but I never wanted to be a junior.”

“I get it,” she said softly. She too was trying to buck family and community expectations.

“So why are you really in an abandoned building a couple of days before Thanksgiving? Is this some Riley scheme?”

“It’s not abandoned,” she said, bristling at the supposition that only his sister schemed. “Well, not for long. And I told you I’m here because I’ve got plans for the space. I’m the newest member of the Bear Creek Planning Commission, and because this building might be donated to the city, I am part of the team that will decide how the city will use the building to enhance the town’s economy.”

“So we really will be working together? For reals?”

“Yes, Killian. We will.”

He stared at her for a long moment. She forced herself to face his scrutiny with calm and not girlish wonder over what he saw.

She was rebuilding her life, not jumping into potential heartbreak. Killian Flanagan did not do long-term and never stuck around. She needed to remember that.

Then he smiled the unholy grin that had gotten him out of trouble always as a kid and had likely been a panty dropper once he’d become a man.

“Welcome to Team Kill.” He stuck his hand out like they were meeting for the first time.

“Zales-Flan,” she corrected.

“Flan-Gon.”

“No.” She shook her head, but she felt a light inside of her flicker on. “That sounds like bad fan fiction of a domestic thriller.”

“Team Kill-ia?” He enclosed her hand in his, and Sophia felt his touch like a spark that sizzled through her blood all the way up her arm and into her chest. “I like it.” He laughed, and the sound echoed around the empty building that had been sitting silently vigil for so many years. “Sounds like a K-pop hit. What can go wrong?”

And as the light burned brighter in her chest, and her body tingled to life, Sophia tried not to start a list.

Chapter Five

Killian had managedto avoid seeing Jeffrey Bane since high school. And even then, it had been from a healthy distance. Guy was an entitled tool. As a Bane, he’d had everything lined up, ready to be plucked and consumed, napkin included, long before birth, but he’d still swear he was a self-made man. Jeffrey seemed comfortable and arrogant in the mayor’s chair. True, the office had what realtors would call a wall-of-windows view of the Rogue Valley rolling out a not impressive carpet of muted browns and grays and bare trees at this time of year, but for many of the months, the fields and vineyard vistas would be an eye-wateringly beautiful collection of greens, purples, reds, and golds stretching toward Mount Ashland.

Jeffrey was only his sister’s age—thirty or thirty-one. Educated. Rich. He could go anywhere. Do anything, but he didn’t seem to want to budge from his city council perch. Or investment company. Or landlord perch. Master of all the small town he surveyed.

Not that Killian should be judging, but he was.

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