Billionaire Protector - Alexa Hart Page 0,3

from my face lately.

“Okay. On to Corydon, then,” I said to no one. The sidewalk was empty – Thursday afternoon didn’t mean much to Central Creek’s 2500 citizens. Corydon was only another five minutes down the highway, and even though it was an even smaller town than this one, I knew they, at the very least, had a hardware store.

I tapped my hand to the beat of the radio as I flew down the deserted road. The tiny green sign that declared I’d reached my destination was nearly covered in ivy vines. Corydon had the very specific feel of a zombie apocalypse movie set. There wasn’t a town square so much as there was a single main street that ran unceremoniously past what may at one time have been a lively little strip of small businesses. Now, however, I could only count four storefronts that seemed to be in operation, and lucky for me the hardware store was one of them. A simple banner reading “Kate’s Supplies” had been hung over the original brick that no doubt still harbored the ancient name of the original store in sorely faded paint strokes.

I wasn’t familiar with Corydon. There had never been any reason to become acquainted with it, as the interstate to Denver passed right by the sleepy village without so much as a mention of its existence. Central Creek was on an old highway as well, but that was as far as I usually went, because there hadn’t been a need to go any further.

Until today.

An old-fashioned bell rang when I swung the door open and strode into “Kate’s”. The original floorboards seemed to still be in use, and every step I took creaked loudly, alerting anyone and everyone who hadn’t already been privy to the jangle of my entrance. I knew exactly what I needed – no need to bother anyone. I’d just find the nail section, zero in on the size, pay, and be blasting more classic rock ‘n’ roll from my truck radio in five minutes flat.

Easy goin’.

“Can I help you find anything today, sir?” I couldn’t find the face that belonged to the sweet, timid voice at first, and I had to stop myself from laughing at the address. I was twenty-four. “Sir” wasn’t something I’d been used to hearing.

A small dark-haired figure came around the corner of the aisle (one of four aisles total in the entire store), and I turned towards the woman whom I assumed would be Kate. But the person I was met with had an incredibly young face – not impossible, but improbable that she owned this little storefront. Her hair was back in a ponytail, and her eyes flashed bright green while she gave me her best, trained customer service smile.

“Are you Kate?” I asked amiably, not sure why that would make a difference or not. I was so used to making polite small talk with the vacationers at the ranch – it was second nature at this point to spout random, friendly inquiries.

The girl hesitated for a minute, her smile faltering almost unnoticeably (but I noticed), and then she seemed to recover. “No, no, I’m not Kate. She’s the owner. I just work for her. She’s in the back if you need me to go get –”

I shook my head, smiling. “No, no need. Just never been out this far. Nice to see new faces.” And it was. I didn’t know the first damn thing about Kate, but this girl – woman, I could tell she was at least twenty – was the prettiest face I had seen in a very long time. Possibly ever.

She grinned again, making me notice the giant dimple on her right cheek and inspiring a giddy roll inside of my stomach. “Okay then. Just let me know if you need anything, alright?” She was walking away then, her tiny butt swaying in beat with her steps.

“What’s your name?” I blurted out – unsure if I was being rude or not. It didn’t really seem to matter. I wanted to know who this woman was.

She stopped – this time seeming to hesitate for an oddly long amount of time – and asked without turning around, “Why?” She’d frozen, and I was reminded of how the horses would tense and sometimes stop on the trails if they sensed a bear or other predator nearby.

“Oh. Just being friendly. Sorry. I didn’t mean to be nosy. I’m Penn. My family owns a ranch not too far from here. I,

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