No Limos Allowed

Definitely Not Interested

Maisie

No day could be all bad if it started out with fresh-baked cookies. Or at least, that's what I kept telling myself as I went through the motions of running the shop, pretending that I wasn't distracted.

To Griff's credit, he was pitching in like a total pro – and not only in the back. Today, we were busier than usual, and he'd stepped up front to assist with bike rentals and customer service.

At the moment, he was outside wrangling a pair of rental bikes for a couple of newlyweds – adjusting the seats so they fit just right.

While he worked, I tried not to stare.

I really did. But the nearby window made staring far too easy. And Griff was proving hard to ignore.

He was wearing a plain black T-shirt and jeans. Both should have been unremarkable. But on him? Not a chance. The man moved like someone who didn't merely fix things. He moved like he was the fix – and I didn't only mean with bikes.

It was pretty ironic considering that all day, I'd been feeling slightly broken. It didn't even make sense. Until he'd shown an interest in Tessa, I'd been fine with keeping things strictly business.

But that was back when I thought Griff didn't like anyone – romantically or otherwise. Turns out, Tessa was the exception, which made me what exactly?

Chopped liver?

Was that even a thing?

I made a sound of annoyance. Enough. With an effort, I returned my attention to the rental forms that we'd collected so far.

There were lots of them – a great sign for the bottom line. Today was shaping up to be a terrific success. Business was good, Griff was being helpful, and I'd had cookies for breakfast. So, why did I feel so dissatisfied?

The front door jingled, and I looked up just in time to see Franny Mulberry breeze in, all floral scarf and oversized sunglasses.

She didn't even say hello. She just sailed up to the front counter and proceeded to do exactly what I'd been doing until just a few moments ago. Yes. I meant she was staring at Griff.

She blew out a long, exaggerated breath. "You didn't tell me you hired eye-candy."

I didn't have to tell her. She already knew. I'd learned this from Tessa – not that it had been a surprise. As usual, Franny knew everything. But it seemed rude to say so, so all I said was, "Yeah, well…he'll be gone before you know it."

With a laugh, Franny asked, "Says who?"

But I wasn't laughing. "Says him ."

Franny gave a dismissive wave of her hand. "Nah, I don't think so."

"I'm serious," I said. "It was our agreement from the get-go."

"Agreements change all the time." She whipped off her sunglasses and gave her eyebrows a little waggle. "I see the way he looks at you."

Now I did laugh – except for some baffling reason, it came out weird, like I was trying too hard to be jolly. "Oh, come on. You haven't even seen us together."

"Says who?" she said for the second time today.

"Says me." I let out a nervous chuckle. "And I haven't seen you in days."

She gave me a sly look. "Yeah, but that doesn't mean I haven't seen you."

I opened my mouth to protest, but then thought better of it. Probably, she was right – well, about seeing me, that is. As for the rest of it, she was dead wrong. I pointed vaguely toward Griff. "He's just an employee, nothing more."

"Employee, my ass." She gave a derisive snort. "You're not even paying him."

"I am, too." But then under my breath, I added, "Sort of."

"What? The sandwiches?" She shook her head. "Honey…nobody works for sandwiches unless they want something extra on the side." She lowered her voice. "And I don't mean mayo."

My stomach twisted. Even if he did want something extra, he didn't want it from me.

When I said nothing in reply, she once again turned her eyes toward the window, where Griff was finishing with the seats.

Unable to resist, I looked, too, taking in his broad shoulders, the way his shirt clung to his back, and how his biceps flexed as he worked. The day was unseasonably warm, and there were no long sleeves to hide his gloriously defined muscles – or his bad-ass tattoo.

I heard myself sigh. A guy like that could make even a bike helmet look sexy – except he'd declined my offer of a helmet, telling me that he didn't plan on wearing one.

In that way, we were the same. I preferred the wind in my hair and full visibility as I took in my surroundings – except today, my visibility was full of Griff.

Franny said, "If I had a view like that, I'd be charging admission."

My eyes twitched at the thought. All day, I'd been watching him way too often – and for longer than I should. At this rate, I should be paying admission, not charging it.

Franny wasn't even done. "And that backside…Darleen said it was nice, but you know how she exaggerates. Not this time though." Franny gave a girlish giggle. "Imagine getting your hands on that."

That did it. "Franny!"

She turned to face me. "What?"

My own imagination had been running wild without any help. The last thing I needed now was someone fueling those thoughts, especially out loud in my shop. "Let's keep it professional, alright?"

She gave her eyebrows another waggle. "Jealous?"

The question hit hard – too hard – and before I could stop myself, I'd already said, "Oh, please. I don't even like him."

With a knowing smile, she replied, "Sure, honey. I believe you."

"Seriously, he's not my type."

She stared like I'd just pulled a unicycle from my ass. " That guy? He's everybody's type."

"Well, he's not mine," I insisted. "He's a hard worker, that's it."

"A hard worker?" she scoffed. " That's what you're going with?"

"I'm not 'going' with anything. It's the truth. He works hard, and he's great with the bikes." I lifted my chin. "But other than that, I'm not remotely interested."

She gave me a skeptical look. "Are you serious?"

"Totally." It wasn't even a stretch. Not really . Griff had his eye on someone else, so it was time to squash my own interest like a bug. Sure, it stung a little, but it wasn't like I had dibs on him.

I straightened my shoulders. If he and Tessa got together, I'd be totally happy for them.

Or at least, I would try really hard to be. Looking to prove it, I said, "In fact, I hope he finds someone else." And then, more to myself than to Franny, I mumbled, "Someone just as good-looking as him."

She barked a laugh. "What are you? Chopped liver?"

Oh. My. God. The fact that Franny had just mirrored my own thoughts was not a good development.

My mouth opened, but the only thing that came out was an awkward laugh devoid of any real humor.

Franny gave me a funny look. "Are you okay?"

My face burned as a forced a smile. "I'm fine. Totally."

Her gaze sharpened like she could see straight into my soul. "Hey, don't sell yourself short. You're as pretty as the rest of 'em." She brightened. "And you'd be a knockout with a different hair-do."

Good Lord.

On instinct, I reached back to touch my ponytail. I liked my hair long, but having it flop around while I worked on bikes wasn't just annoying. It was potentially dangerous. So I had settled on a compromise – a ponytail at work and letting it fall free almost everywhere else.

Now Franny was saying, "And a little eye-shadow wouldn't hurt anyone."

My remaining dignity curled up and died. Beauty advice – it was the last thing I needed.

I had never been insecure, not even a little – until Devon had dropped me for that psych major. One month he'd been talking about forever. And the next month, he'd been sailing off with somebody else.

I meant that literally. Apparently, her family owned a yacht club somewhere off Lake Michigan.

I didn't want advice – or even worse, pity. I wanted Franny to drop it, preferably forever. Forget eye-shadow. What I really needed was to put Griff out of my mind and focus on the business.

Still, my gaze drifted back to the window as I wondered what he was doing now. At what I saw – or rather, didn't see – everything inside me skidded to a stop.

Griff was gone.

Franny confirmed it by asking, "Hey, where'd he go?"

My stomach dropped. Excellent question . My gaze shifted to the connecting door that led to the back room. The door was still shut, which meant…what exactly? I swallowed hard. Was Griff back there now?

And for how long?

Had he overheard?

No.

He couldn't have.

I mean, sure, he used the back door a lot during business hours. But that didn't mean he had used it just now. Maybe he was still outside?

Maybe somewhere unseen?

But where?

I gave a hard swallow. Nowhere from the looks of it.

Franny was still staring toward the window, as if expecting Griff to reappear at any moment, preferably oiled up and shirtless. When another long moment passed with no sighting, she muttered, "Oh, poo."

She looked disappointed.

I felt nauseous.

Again, my gaze strayed to the connecting door. He could be listening on the other side of it right now – or even worse, five minutes ago.

I mentally rewound everything I'd just said, replaying again and again the parts where I'd insisted that he wasn't my type. How would I ever face him?

Then again, maybe it was better if he had overheard. Probably, he would be relieved. And I would still have my dignity.

But at what cost? We had a decent working relationship. What if I'd just mucked it up by making things way too personal?

From the other side of the counter, Franny reached out and gave my hand a little pat. "Oh, cheer up. I'm sure you'll see him soon."

Yeah, that's what I was afraid of.

I snuck another quick glance at the connecting door. If I were smart, I'd march through it the moment Franny left, just to make sure that Griff was somewhere else – preferably somewhere loud and clanking where conversations couldn't carry.

But what if he was there?

I took a deep, calming breath. Well, in that case, I'd just need to see if he was acting funny and take it from there.

It was such a good plan, and it might have worked swimmingly except for one tiny problem. I'd barely said goodbye to Franny when the door jingled again, announcing the arrival of someone new – or rather, someone old, at least in terms of my own history.

I froze. I stared. And then I swallowed.

A chill zipped down my spine, fast and sharp, like a ghost had just appeared with no warning – except it was no phantom.

It was my ex-boyfriend.

Yes, that ex-boyfriend.

It was Devon Harris, looking snappier than I'd ever seen him. And worst of all, he wasn't alone.