The Illegitimate Billionaire

“The donation?”

Hannah, who was watching, cocked her head in curiosity.

“Two-thousand dollars was very generous of you.”

Two-thousand dollars? Had Callie accidentally signed something, or agreed to something? She couldn’t afford to donate two-thousand dollars. “I—”

Lawrence didn’t seem to hear her. “The beautification committee will definitely put the money to good use.”

“Lawrence, I think there’s been—”

“And on your building permit, I’ve reviewed the architectural drawings, and I’m optimistic it can be approved this week.”

“Approved?”

She knew she should protest. She hadn’t made any donation. And if she had, would it have been a bribe?

Hannah’s brown eyes went wide as she whispered. “The permit?”

Callie wanted to nod, but she was afraid to jinx it. Could this really be happening?

“You should hear something by Wednesday. If the office doesn’t call, feel free to contact me directly.”

Hannah touched her arm, pointing to the bakery door.

Callie turned to see Deacon walk in. He looked tall, handsome and crisply cool in a pair of designer jeans and a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the collar open.

“I...uh...” Her gaze met Deacon’s secretive, self-satisfied smirk, and she immediately knew what had happened. “Thank you, Lawrence.”

“My pleasure. Goodbye, Callie.”

“Goodbye.” Without taking her gaze off Deacon, she handed the phone to Hannah. “I have to talk to Deacon.”

“Are we getting our building permit?”

“Looks like we are.” Callie wasn’t sure how to feel about that: happy, guilty, annoyed, grateful?

What kind of man would do that for her?

While she wondered, he came to a stop on the other side of the display case. “Hello, Callie.”

“Can we talk?” she asked.

“Sure.” He glanced around at the customers. “Can you get away for a few minutes?”

“Yes.” She untied her apron and lifted it over her head.

He gave an admiring glance at her white, short-sleeved blouse and fitted black skirt. The interest in his eyes sent a pleasant sizzle down her spine. He had a casual, earthy sexuality that reached out to her.

She had to remind herself she was...at least possibly...annoyed with him.

A good person would be annoyed with him.

Wouldn’t they?

Winding her way through the dining tables, she followed him to the door. Her gaze moved involuntarily from his broad shoulders, down the taper of his back, to his attractive rear. He had to be in incredible shape. A good person wouldn’t be watching his rear end either.

She wanted to be a good person.

“It’s a hot one,” he said as they exited to the sidewalk.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” she blurted out.

“I don’t know,” he said easily. “What are we talking about?”

“The donation.”

It was clear from his expression that he immediately understood. “Ahhh.”

“I’m taking that as a yes.”

“Yes. It was me. Can I hold your hand?”

“What?” Her brain stumbled on the question.

“Your hand. I’d like to hold your hand while we walk.”

“Why are you saying that?”

“Because it’s true.”

“We’re talking about you letting Lawrence think I made a big donation to the beautification committee.”

“We can’t do that while I’m holding you hand?”

“Deacon.”

“What?” Instead of waiting for an answer, he took her hand as they walked beneath the arching oak trees.

She knew she should pull away, but she didn’t seem to have it in her. “Lawrence just called me,” she persisted.

“Good.” They took a few more steps. “Right?”

It was definitely good holding hands. In fact, it was great holding hands. His was strong. It felt manly. It was a manly hand, and she liked that.

“Callie?”

“Huh?”