Falling For The Wrong Guy_A Holiday Junction Sweet Romance by Tami Franklin

Author:Tami Franklin [Franklin, Tami]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Calava Press
Published: 2019-07-08T04:00:00+00:00

* * *

Abby pulled up to the curb in front of the mercantile and checked her bag for the millionth time to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. Even though she’d done so many presentations in the past, she always felt a little bit nervous—hopeful that the client would like what she’d done, worried that they wouldn’t. But this morning, her usual anxiety had cranked up a notch or two.

“Don’t be an idiot. It’s going to be fine,” she muttered to herself as she wiped her sweaty hands off on her jeans. She’d been tired when she got home from dinner at the McKenna’s the night before, but stayed up late to finish Braden’s plans, knowing he was waiting to hear from her before he offered to buy the place. It was a lot of pressure, that was all. She wanted it to work out for him and didn’t want to let him down.

She forced herself to take a deep breath and blow it out slowly, counting to ten. She was pretty sure that Braden was going to love the plans. They’d talked about them a little when they were left alone at the McKenna’s dining room table, and he’d definitely seemed pleased, his dark eyes alight and a genuine smile quirking his lips.

The thought made a little rush of heat tingle through Abby’s stomach, but she pushed it down and tried to ignore it.

“It’s a job,” she hissed at herself, adding a glare in the rearview mirror to further stress the point. Then, with a sigh and a firm nod at her reflection, she got out of the car and headed to the Shamrock.

The sign said Closed, but the knob turned when she tried it, so she walked inside, sliding her sunglasses to the top of her head as she peered into the dim interior.

“Braden?”

Silence greeted her, but then she heard laughter coming from the hallway in the back.

Female laughter. Followed by the low rumble of a decidedly masculine voice.

Abby froze, glancing back toward the door and wondering if she should make a run for it.

“Oh, hey, Abby.”

Too late.

She pasted on a smile and tried to wish away the blush on her face. It had never worked before, but there was a first time for everything, right?

Braden emerged from the back doorway, accompanied by a—the only word that came to mind was bombshell. She was tall, almost as tall as Braden, with a fall of wavy blonde hair cascading over her shoulders and topped, inexplicably, by a tattered baseball cap. She wore jeans and a faded chambray shirt with the tails tied at her waist. She was absolutely, incredibly beautiful, and made Abby feel like an awkward, frumpy loser.

“Bex, this is Abby Harper,” Braden said.

The woman approached her, extended a hand, and smiled.

Yep. Dimples in both cheeks. Of course.

“Hi, Abby.” Bex shook her hand enthusiastically, then jerked a thumb over her shoulder toward Braden. “I understand you’re building this guy a brewery. Don’t let him push you around.” She smirked.

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