A Very Grumpy Billionaire by Shaw Hart

Author:Shaw Hart [Hart, Shaw]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-05-30T18:30:00+00:00

SEVEN

Fisher

I show up at the Wolf Sanctuary first thing the next morning. I’ve got a picnic basket in the backseat, and I grab it before heading for the front door. I knock a few times and wait, but no one comes to answer the door.

She must be out with the wolves already, I think, when the sound of a motor roars to life nearby.

I round the house right as Vera comes by, and she skids to a stop next to me.

“Fisher? What are you doing here?” She asks, turning off the four-wheeler.

“I’m here for our second date.”

“Um, did we make plans for that?”

“Not exactly, but I told you I’d see you today. I thought you could show me around this place. We can hang out and have lunch,” I tell her, holding up the picnic basket.

“Is this your way of viewing the property before you try to buy it?” She asks, and I shake my head.

“No, I swear.”

She frowns but finally relents.

“I need to get started with everything. Why don’t you put that basket in the house?”

“So, you can drive off as soon as I’m gone?” I ask, and she blushes.

“No,” she lies, and I laugh.

“Come with me. You can show me where to put it.”

She sighs but climbs off and leads me over to the house. We head inside, and I look over. The house is a bit dated, but it’s clean and everything seems well taken care of.

There are some framed photos on the wall of Vera when she was younger, with two people who can only be her parents. A lot of the photos have wolves in the background, and I smile. I remember how she told me that the wolves were the only family that she had left. At the time, I assumed that she was just trying to be funny or lighten the mood, but it’s obvious that it’s the truth.

“I think that can fit in the fridge,” Vera says and I hurry to catch up to her. The kitchen is clean except for a plate with some crumbs next to the sink.

Vera opens the fridge, and I step up next to her and slide the basket onto the top shelf. Her fridge is pretty empty, and I frown at the few things in there.

“What do you eat?” I ask her, and she huffs out a little laugh.

“Cereal and sandwiches mostly. By the time I’m done for the day, I’m usually too tired to bother.”

Our fingers brush as I reach for the fridge door and close it. She inhales sharply, and I glance at her. Our eyes lock, and I know then that she can feel this thing between us. It’s right there in her eyes.

How do I get her to give in to those feelings though?

“We should get going,” she says, and I nod.

I follow her outside to the four-wheeler and climb on after her. She takes off, and I smile as I wrap my arms around her. She doesn’t tense and I take that as a good sign.

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