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you know that?” I say to her.

“I love you, too,” she licks her lips and I have to look away so I don’t have a flashback of what those lips can do, what they feel like on me. Can’t walk with a raging hard on after all.

“I’ll find them somewhere else to go, okay?” I promise her.

I’d never done that before. You couldn’t have a heart when it came to business, or else you’d bleed out trying to help everyone. But for Britta, I’d do it.

We walk up and down the entire strip of property that Barrow and I purchased and, much to my amazement, all of the shops are absolutely ‘adorable’. Britta’s words, not mine.

We pop into an old-time candy store where they make fresh salt water taffy and sell lollipops the size of my head, we peruse a store called Yesterday’s Books and enjoy the musky smell of old stories. There’s a watch repair shop, an antique shop and a few clothing boutiques. After a few hours of walking, chewing taffy and taking photos, Britta grows overwhelmed thinking of which shop to choose and tells me she’s ready to go back home.

“I need to really think about it,” she says, and I love it when she pours herself into things like this. No stone goes unturned when her mind is set on something.

“I’ll get you information to help your choice. Foot traffic, sales, things like that.”

She nods.

“Can we make one more stop before we head back?” I ask, my hand finding that spot on her thigh as we settle back into the seats in the car.

“Melody is out of town!” she pouts, “I can’t believe the Saturday we come here she’s not here!”

Indeed, I’d wished that part of this trip had worked out better. But I couldn’t wait another week. Now that I owned the property for the new house for the last six months, we needed to start building.

“I know, baby, and I’m sorry about that. We can come back when she’s returned.” I squeeze her leg and she covers my hand with hers, weaving our fingers together.

“It’s okay,” she says. “Where are we going now?”

I ask her to read me the address on the first page of the notebook and she does, watching me input it as she speaks it. Her eyes go to the GPS and the satellite shows a large hill with nothing built on it. I raise ours hands to my mouth and kiss the back of hers.

“If you could change anything about the house on the hill, what would it be?” I ask, and she’s momentarily forgotten about where we’re driving.

“Hmm,” she tilts her head and blonde hair falls in front of her face for a moment before she tucks it behind her ear. “I don’t know, that’s a good question. I really love your house as it is.” I nod. I figured she may say that. Never one to complain or gripe, even if it’s asked of her.

“Think about it,” I tell her, as I navigate the roads which are tucked between luscious green hills that lap at a bright, clear blue sky.

“I always forget how fresh the air is here,” she says, rolling the window down, letting the new air fill the car.

We drive like that, the cool air nipping at us, for another ten minutes or so until we arrive at the bottom of a large, slightly lopsided hill.

“It’s getting graded this week,” I say, winking at her before getting out of the car, taking a place on the hood. She meets me there.

“What are you guys putting here? I mean, it’s pretty isolated. It would be hard for a business to thrive.”

I turn to her, wrap my arm around her shoulder and pull her into me, gently.

“No business.”

She’s quiet. She doesn’t understand because she isn’t used to being treated the way she should.

“This is where our new house on the hill is going to be built. I timed the drive—we’re just ten minutes from the strip downtown. So when you’re exhausted from a long day at the bakery, your drive home will be quick.”

Her eyes are wide, her mouth falls open, and Britta becomes utterly speechless.

“I told you, Britta. The bakery will be yours, in your name. I don’t care about being in the city. I’ll sell that place after we’re comfortable here. I know you love that house though. We’ll build it again, only this time, exactly the way you like it.”

“You can’t—”

“I can work from anywhere and if I absolutely need to get into the city, it’s not too far away. This is better,” I open an arm to the green around us. “This is much better, don’t you think? And we’ll be near Melody.”

“And Donny,” she smiles.

“And Donny.”

Her chin tilts up and I take her mouth with mine, a slow and passionate kiss. When we pull apart, she kisses me again, quick, and rubs a thumb across my bottom lip.

“A whole house for us to have firsts in,” she says.

I can’t wait.

Stay Tuned…

Coming Soon…

Maid for Marriage

Book 2 of The Millionaire and his Maid Series

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Also by Daisy Jane

My Best Friend’s Dad

Only on Sundays

Pleasing the Pastor

Waiting for Coach

On His Table

The Virgin Tutor

The Professor

The Waitress and the Cop

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