“Morning, Maddox!” she called cheerfully. “Got that ice melt I called about?”
“Set aside behind the counter,” I replied, glad for the interruption. “Need help carrying it out?”
“My granddaughter’s in the car. She’ll come get it.” She approached the counter, eyeing Adrian with undisguised curiosity. “Don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”
Adrian turned on the charm, extending his hand. “Adrian Hayes. Just visiting for the holidays.”
“Evelyn Hoffman.” She shook his hand, then looked between us. “Am I interrupting something?”
“Mr. Hayes was just leaving,” I said firmly.
Adrian’s smile didn’t falter. “Actually, I was hoping to convince Maddox to join me for lunch at…” He paused, glancing at Mrs. Hoffman. “Where would you recommend for the best lunch in town?”
Mrs. Hoffman brightened. “Oh, Timber, without question! Alex just revamped the menu last month, and the butternut squash soup is a must-try.”
I suppressed a groan. Of course she’d suggest Timber. It was the best damn restaurant in town.
“Sounds perfect,” Adrian said, turning back to me with triumphant eyes. “Timber at noon? Ten minutes of your time.”
I could practically see the town gossip network lighting up like a Christmas tree. By nightfall, half of Legacy would be speculating about me and the handsome stranger with the pretty face. The other half would already be planning our wedding. In a town where everyone knew your business before you did, this lunch would be headline news—exactly the kind of attention I’d spent years avoiding.
I wanted to argue that he’d had more than ten minutes of my time already, but since Mrs. Hoffman was watching our exchange with the avid interest of someone who would definitely be sharing this story at her next book club meeting, if not sooner, I refrained.
“Fine,” I relented, if only to end the conversation before half the town heard about it. “Noon. But only ten minutes.”
Adrian’s genuine smile was annoyingly appealing. “Excellent. Looking forward to it.” He nodded politely to Mrs. Hoffman. “Lovely meeting you, ma’am.”
As he strode out of the hardware store, designer boots crunching in the light dusting of snow outside, Mrs. Hoffman turned to me with raised eyebrows.
“Handsome fellow,” she observed. “Friend of yours?”
“No,” I said firmly, reaching for her bag of ice melt. “Just someone passing through.”
“Hmm,” she hummed, clearly unconvinced. “Well, he seems nice. And Timber does sharing plates…”
I sighed, already regretting my decision. This lunch was just delaying the inevitable rejection, but ten minutes of my time seemed a small price to pay to get Adrian Hayes out of my life for good. Ten minutes to definitively explain why I didn’t doinfluencer gigs, didn’t manufacture moments, didn’t compromise my principles for follower counts or sponsor dollars.
“Don’t get any ideas,” I warned her. “I can already see you scheming. I don’t want or need any of your ‘sharing plates.’”
She grinned at me. “Maddox, I was born scheming. And youdoneed a man warming your bed and helping you out around here. ’S’not my fault if killing two birds with one handsome stone makes the most sense.”
I glared at her, making sure she saw how serious I was. “Stand down, Evelyn. I will not be making babies with that city boy. This is not Hallmark, and he isn’t returning to his hometown looking for love. This is real life, and he’s as deep as a sheet of sandpaper, even if he’s a thousand times smoother.”
“Mmf. We’ll see.” She turned to leave.
“We won’t see!” I called after her.
As soon as Mrs. Hoffman disappeared out the door, I pulled out my phone and texted Maya.
I’m meeting him for lunch. DON’T start planning the wedding, regardless of what you hear around town.
Her response was immediate.
Maya
Too late. Rosie Marian already texted to say she heard from Mrs. Hoffman that the two of you were flirting at the cash register. Tell me everything. A Christmas wedding isn’t possible at this late date, but there’s always New Year’s…
How the fuck was that possible? Mrs. Hoffman had barely hit the sidewalk. I let out a growl and slipped my phone back into my pocket, regretting everything.
