Seduce Me, Cowboy. Maisey Yates

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to spend.

      And he was bored out of his mind.

      Boredom, it turned out, worked him into a hell of a temper. He had a feeling Hayley Thompson wasn’t strong enough to stand up to that. But he expected to go through a few assistants before he found one who could handle it. She might as well be number one.

      “You’ve got the job,” he said. “You can start tomorrow.”

      Her eyes widened, and he noticed they were a strange shade of blue. Gray in some lights, shot through with a dark, velvet navy that reminded him of the ocean before a storm. It made him wonder if there was some hidden strength there.

      They would both find out.

      “I got the job? Just like that?”

      “Getting the job was always going to be the easy part. It’s keeping the job that might be tricky. My list of reasons to hire you are short—you showed up. The list of reasons I have for why I might fire you is much longer.”

      “You’re not very reassuring,” she said, her lips tilting down in a slight frown.

      He laughed. “If you want to go back and work for your daddy, do that. I’m not going to call you. But maybe you’ll appreciate my ways later. Other jobs will seem easy after this one.”

      She just looked at him, her jaw firmly set, her petite body rigid with determination. “What time do you want me here?”

      “Seven o’clock. Don’t be late. Or else...”

      “You’ll fire me. I’ve got the theme.”

      “Excellent. Hayley Thompson, you’ve got yourself a job.”

       Two

      Hayley scrubbed her face as she walked into The Grind through the private entrance from her upstairs apartment. It was early. But she wanted to make sure she wasn’t late to work.

      On account of all the firing talk.

      “Good morning,” Cassie said from behind the counter, smiling cheerfully. Hayley wondered if Cassie was really thrilled to be at work this early in the morning. Hayley knew all about presenting a cheerful face to anyone who might walk in the door.

      You couldn’t have a bad day when you worked at the church.

      “I need coffee,” Hayley said, not bothering to force a grin. She wasn’t at work yet. She paused. “Do you know Jonathan Bear?”

      Cassie gave her a questioning look. “Yes, I’m friends with his sister, Rebecca. She owns the store across the street.”

      “Right,” Hayley said, frowning. “I don’t think I’ve ever met her. But I’ve seen her around town.”

      Hayley was a few years younger than Cassie, and probably a bit younger than Rebecca, as well, which meant they had never been in classes together at school, and had never shared groups of friends. Not that Hayley had much in the way of friends. People tended to fear the pastor’s daughter would put a damper on things.

      No one had tested the theory.

      “So yes, I know Jonathan in passing. He’s... Well, he’s not very friendly.” Cassie laughed. “Why?”

      “He just hired me.”

      Cassie’s expression contorted into one of horror and Hayley saw her start to backpedal. “He’s probably fine. It’s just that he’s very protective of Rebecca because he raised her, you know, and all that. And she had her accident, and had to have a lot of medical procedures done... So my perception of him is based entirely on that. I’m sure he’s a great boss.”

      “No,” Hayley said, “you were right the first time. He’s a grumpy cuss. Do you have any idea what kind of coffee he drinks?”

      Cassie frowned, a small notch appearing between her brows. “He doesn’t come in that often. But when he does I think he gets a dark roast, large, black, no sugar, with a double shot of espresso.”

      “How do you remember that?”

      “It’s my job. And there are a lot of people I know by drink and not by name.”

      “Well, I will take one of those for him. And hope that it’s still hot by the time I get up the mountain.”

      “Okay. And a coffee for you with room for cream?”

      “Yes,” Hayley said. “I don’t consider my morning caffeination ritual a punishment like some people seem to.”

      “Hey,” Cassie said, “some people just like their coffee unadulterated. But I am not one of them. I feel you.”

      Hayley paid for her order and made her way to the back of the store, looking around at the warm, quaint surroundings. Locals had filed in and were filling up the tables, reading their papers, opening laptops and dropping off bags and coats to secure the coveted positions in the tiny coffee shop.

      Then a line began to form, and Hayley was grateful she had come as early as she had.

      A moment later, her order was ready. Popping the lid off her cup at the cream and sugar station, she gave herself a generous helping of both. She walked back out the way she had come in, going to her car, which was parked behind the building in her reserved space.

      She got inside, wishing she’d warmed up the vehicle before placing her order. It wasn’t too cold this morning, but she could see her breath in the damp air. She positioned both cups of coffee in the cup holders of her old Civic, and then headed to the main road, which was void of traffic—and would remain that way for the entire day.

      She liked the pace of Copper Ridge, she really did. Liked the fact that she knew so many people, that people waved and smiled when she walked by. Liked that there were no traffic lights, and that you rarely had to wait for more than one car at a four-way stop.

      She loved the mountains, and she loved the ocean.

      But she knew there were things beyond this place, too. And she wanted to see them.

      Needed to see them.

      She thought about all those places as she drove along the winding road to Jonathan Bear’s house. She had the vague thought that if she went to London or Paris, if she looked at the Eiffel Tower or Big Ben, structures so old and lasting—structures that had been there for centuries—maybe she would learn something about herself.

      Maybe she would find what she couldn’t identify here. Maybe she would find the cure for the elusive ache in her chest when she saw Ace with Sierra and their kids.

      Would find the freedom to be herself—whoever that might be. To flirt and date, and maybe drink a beer. To escape the confines that so rigidly held her.

      Even driving out of town this morning, instead of to the church, was strange. Usually, she felt as though she were moving through the grooves of a well-worn track. There were certain places she went in town—her parents’ home, the church,

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