Kissing his tears away, I ask him if he’s happy not living the life of luxury he used to know. “Are you sure you’re not going to miss rubbing elbows with all of the rich and famous all around the world?”
Hugo smoothes my hair down and confirms everything I already know about him. “I have never, ever, been a richer man than I am now, love. This is what I was made for.”
About the Author
Abby Knox lives a dual life. Fantasy Abby would love to live on a farm with goats, bees, chickens, donkeys and alpaca, making her own soap, yarn, honey and cheese. Reality Abby has no desire to do actual farm work. So, the ever-pragmatic Reality Abby keeps Fantasy Abby happy by putting her into adorable little works of romantic fiction with her pretend hobbies. Both Abbies hope you enjoy her sweet, sexy — sometimes a little over the top and weird — storytelling.
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Also by Abby Knox
Need more stand-alone short reads and novellas?
Check out Abby’s other titles!
Shacking Up
Maid for the Billionaire
Doctor Dave
Officer Max
Fighting For Dylan (book four in a six-author MMA series!)
Hot Off The Press
The Halloween Bet
The Christmas Pickup (a holiday short read full of feels, quirky characters and one hot tow truck driver!)
Saved for Me
(a special Holidays with Alexa Riley story)
Matched for Me (A Valentine’s Day story with Fletcher from Saved for Me)
Off-Season Stud (a fun and sexy vacation trope with an OTT ending!)
In the mood for a beachy rock-n-roll combo?
Beach Avenue Babes
His Vinyl Vixen (a stand alone for the rock ’n’ roll nerd in all of us)
Her Hi-Fi Hunk (Dusty and Jed from His Vinyl Vixen)
The Greenbridge Academy series
Swim Coach (book one)
Grumpy Dad (book two)
Benefactor (book three)
Headmistress (book four)
Queen Bee (book five)
Bake Sale Queen (book six)
The Very Good Boy Duet
Fencing Her In (A bad neighbors to lovers story. With a lot of dogs. You need this in your life.)
Doing Him Good (An insta-love, sowing-his-wild-oats whirlwind romance.)
Need more?
From the Small-Town Bachelor Romance Series
(each can be read as a stand-alone, but if you want to read in order … this is the order)
Take Me Home
Game Face
Written in the Stars, a special Christmas edition
Walk With Me
Stay the Night
I’ve Got You
Come And Get It
The Windy City Holiday Duet
Pumpkin and Spice
Comfort and Joy
An excerpt from Maid for the Billionaire
Luke
The number calling me for the third time this morning is not one I recognize, but I know exactly who it is.
“Assholes,” I mutter.
My big sausage finger hits “decline call,” and I toss my phone on the passenger seat of my Ford Fairlane. My sweet ride. My baby.
As if in response to my cussing, the GPS lady on the phone says we’re at my destination. I look around, and I’m surprised I haven’t come across a security gate yet for the house I’m supposed to clean today. It’s my first day on a new job.
It’s a moderately nice, older neighborhood. Tall palm trees. A Spanish-style home is nestled into the hillside, set back from the road but not hidden.
The phone rings again as I steer into the driveway. I glance over at it. Could be an agent calling me back, could be the number-spoofing assholes again. Could be someone from my other job, waiting tables, asking if I want to pick up a shift tonight.
Pretty sure I know who it is not. Talent agents I’ve cold-called do not call back on this early in the morning, if they call back at all.
I relax when I recognize the number and answer right away. “Lucille, everything OK?”
The older woman’s voice on the other end is hesitant. “The doctor said I don’t need to come in to have my prescription refilled so I won’t need a ride to the doctor after all. He’s called it in for me; do you think you would have time to pick it up? I don’t want to bother you.”
I chuckle, both relieved and touched that this lovely woman thinks she’s bothering me at all. “Will do, Lucille. The usual pharmacy?”
She gives me the details, then we say goodbye in the usual way. “Take care of yourself, Buster.”
“See you soon, Toots,” I answer.
Lucille, my elderly widowed neighbor, says goodbye to me this way in memory of her late husband Burt, whom she called Buster. So to humor her, I call her Toots. Whatever it takes to make that lady happy, I’ll do it.
She asks for very little except an occasional ride to medical appointments, since the state took her license away due to her deteriorating eyesight. Plus, she can’t afford the fees to use the special transportation for senior citizens, and I really wouldn’t want her to anyway. I’ve become quite protective of her, and I enjoy listening to her stories when I drive her around town.
It might seem weird to people that I let this little old lady use her husband’s pet names on me, but it also serves a greater purpose. The one time she didn’t call me Buster, something sounded very wrong with her breathing. Luckily I picked up on it and called an ambulance; turned out she was having cardiac arrhythmia.
Grinning, I shove my phone back in my pocket. It makes me happy to look out for Lucille. She’s a sweet lady and she has nobody else to take care of her.
I have to be careful how quick I am to answer the phone, though. The assholes who keep calling represent the sketchiest of sketchy storefront lending companies, to whom I fell prey one day in a moment of weakness. I needed money for headshots, so I did what I thought I had to do. I walked in and put my car title up for collateral and got the money for headshots.
But in recent days, that company has started hounding me over the phone
