Read Online HAPPY PANTS CAFE (THE HAPPY PANTS SERIES) by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff
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interview. He’d eat it anyway.
Austin headed toward his car to retrieve the cookie from the trunk before the long drive home. He’d left it there yesterday after bumping into Harper. He had been about to leave (he’d already dug up enough information to write his small follow-up article to the Christina wedding), when something told him to turn around and see what Harper was up to.
Well, this time, he would get in his car and keep on going. Harper would be free in a few hours, likely looking for blood. His blood. That woman was dangerously hotheaded.
Maybe she should sign up to be deputy sheriff .
Of course, her spunky side was a goddamned aphrodisiac, but that wasn’t enough to go for it; she was trouble.
He grabbed the cookie from the small bag in the trunk of his red, convertible, 1965 Aston Martin DB5, popped down the top, and hopped inside.
But she said she wanted you last night. Austin straightened his back. It was good to know Harper hadn’t been lying about that, but it didn’t change how she’d lied to him about her name and then accused him of trying to sleep with her just to beat her to the café in the morning. She really didn’t think much of him, did she?
Okay. Sure. He might’ve stooped to getting her drunk if the thought had entered his mind, but it hadn’t. He’d been too wrapped up in how she’d made him feel. Damned wicked woman was sexier than sin on a Sunday—pouty little lips, freckled pert nose, and big green eyes. He even liked her short hair—a first for him. And that body. Hell, what was she thinking, prancing around in that little purple top today? Did she have any idea how difficult it was to fight with her, or look her in the eyes, when her breasts were talking to him like that? Look at us! Look at us! You know you want to!
Too damned sexy. Why did she have to screw it all up?
Maybe you need to give her another chance?
He shook his head. No, I learned my lesson about fake women who’d do anything to get what they want . Austin wanted a loyal woman, an honest woman, a woman who had her priorities straight. Harper was obsessed with her job. So even if he could see past the other stuff, he’d always be competing with her boyfriend: work.
No thanks. I’ve got better ways to spend my time.
Austin revved the engine and pulled out, starting down the main street that headed out of town. But of course, his mind stayed stuck, not moving a damned inch.
He kept wondering what Harper had been up to all these years and how he’d not recognized her to begin with.
Back when they were little, she had looked like a dirty boy, and frankly, Austin’s eyesight had been really bad. His damned glasses had been so thick that he used to feel like the bridge of his nose might collapse. The other kids’d had a field day picking on him until high school, when he’d grown several feet, filled out, and discovered contact lenses. Not that he’d ever given a crap about what anyone thought about him while growing up.
Except for Harper.
He still remembered the first time they’d raced their bikes around the park. She’d worn her hair long back then, and he remembered thinking how strange she looked. Boys weren’t supposed to have long hair. When they’d finally stopped for a break, he’d asked her about it, and she’d been so angry that her grubby little freckled face had turned tomato red. She’d jumped on his back, knocked him to the ground, and pushed his face, glasses and all, into the mud. “I’m a girl, stupid!”
When a few of the neighborhood boys gathered to watch and started laughing, Harper had got up, punched one of them right in the stomach, and they’d run away. Harper became his best friend that day, and they were practically inseparable. Which is why when Harper’d told him she was moving, he’d been pretty devastated. His parents’d had to buy him a new tree house just to get him to come out of his room. But how could she have left without saying good-bye after
Austin headed toward his car to retrieve the cookie from the trunk before the long drive home. He’d left it there yesterday after bumping into Harper. He had been about to leave (he’d already dug up enough information to write his small follow-up article to the Christina wedding), when something told him to turn around and see what Harper was up to.
Well, this time, he would get in his car and keep on going. Harper would be free in a few hours, likely looking for blood. His blood. That woman was dangerously hotheaded.
Maybe she should sign up to be deputy sheriff .
Of course, her spunky side was a goddamned aphrodisiac, but that wasn’t enough to go for it; she was trouble.
He grabbed the cookie from the small bag in the trunk of his red, convertible, 1965 Aston Martin DB5, popped down the top, and hopped inside.
But she said she wanted you last night. Austin straightened his back. It was good to know Harper hadn’t been lying about that, but it didn’t change how she’d lied to him about her name and then accused him of trying to sleep with her just to beat her to the café in the morning. She really didn’t think much of him, did she?
Okay. Sure. He might’ve stooped to getting her drunk if the thought had entered his mind, but it hadn’t. He’d been too wrapped up in how she’d made him feel. Damned wicked woman was sexier than sin on a Sunday—pouty little lips, freckled pert nose, and big green eyes. He even liked her short hair—a first for him. And that body. Hell, what was she thinking, prancing around in that little purple top today? Did she have any idea how difficult it was to fight with her, or look her in the eyes, when her breasts were talking to him like that? Look at us! Look at us! You know you want to!
Too damned sexy. Why did she have to screw it all up?
Maybe you need to give her another chance?
He shook his head. No, I learned my lesson about fake women who’d do anything to get what they want . Austin wanted a loyal woman, an honest woman, a woman who had her priorities straight. Harper was obsessed with her job. So even if he could see past the other stuff, he’d always be competing with her boyfriend: work.
No thanks. I’ve got better ways to spend my time.
Austin revved the engine and pulled out, starting down the main street that headed out of town. But of course, his mind stayed stuck, not moving a damned inch.
He kept wondering what Harper had been up to all these years and how he’d not recognized her to begin with.
Back when they were little, she had looked like a dirty boy, and frankly, Austin’s eyesight had been really bad. His damned glasses had been so thick that he used to feel like the bridge of his nose might collapse. The other kids’d had a field day picking on him until high school, when he’d grown several feet, filled out, and discovered contact lenses. Not that he’d ever given a crap about what anyone thought about him while growing up.
Except for Harper.
He still remembered the first time they’d raced their bikes around the park. She’d worn her hair long back then, and he remembered thinking how strange she looked. Boys weren’t supposed to have long hair. When they’d finally stopped for a break, he’d asked her about it, and she’d been so angry that her grubby little freckled face had turned tomato red. She’d jumped on his back, knocked him to the ground, and pushed his face, glasses and all, into the mud. “I’m a girl, stupid!”
When a few of the neighborhood boys gathered to watch and started laughing, Harper had got up, punched one of them right in the stomach, and they’d run away. Harper became his best friend that day, and they were practically inseparable. Which is why when Harper’d told him she was moving, he’d been pretty devastated. His parents’d had to buy him a new tree house just to get him to come out of his room. But how could she have left without saying good-bye after
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