Page 62 of The Billionaire in Her Bed

“If we let them take Candy Court, who’s going to come in next?”

“Our small businesses can’t compete against the big chains.”

Brooke tightened her grip on the microphone stand. “If we could all raise our hands…”

“What do we know about this development group?”

“Do we have any idea what they have planned for the building?”

Okay, so hand-raising was out. “No. Not yet. But…”

“Actually, yes, we do.”

For a second, Brooke thought she was hallucinating. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. She’d been hearing Eli’s voice in her head for weeks. His sexy growl. The way he cried out her name as he climaxed. But it usually started up when her head hit the pillow and she tried in vain to sleep, not in moments of full, waking consciousness. She hadn’t gone that far off the deep end. Yet.

Then she saw him, striding down the center aisle with a cardboard tube tucked under his arm, moving like he owned the goddamn world.

Why did he always have to look so good? If there were any justice in the world, he’d look as bad as she felt. Bloodshot eyes. Scraggly hair. At least some three-day-old scruff on his jaw.

But no. Eli was bright-eyed, neatly coiffed, and clean shaven, looking like he stepped out of the pages ofEsquireorGQin what must be business casual for him—a crisp, white button-down shirt, lightweight gray cardigan, and dark jeans.

He climbed up onto the stage, exchanging hugs with a squealing Charise and an equally excited Mrs. Feingold and a fist bump with her more reserved husband. Then he motioned to David, who scrambled to set up an easel he’d procured from who knew where.

“You were in on this, weren’t you?” Brooke glared at David, who merely shrugged as he struggled with the easel. “Traitor.”

She wheeled on Eli, who was so close she felt like she was drowning in the scent of him, fresh soap mixed with spicy cologne. She tried to ignore the tingling sensation in her nether regions. “And you. You’re just as bad, showing up here without any warning.”

“You didn’t leave me much choice. Wouldn’t take my calls. Didn’t answer my texts. It was the only way I could think of to get you to listen to me.”

Okay. She’d give him that one. “And you had to do it in front of half the neighborhood?”

There was that drop-your-panties smile that made her stupid. “Less chance you’d run.”

Again with the running? Did everyone think she was afraid of confrontation?

“Besides,” he continued, waving an arm at the crowd below, who watched the proceedings with interest. “This concerns them, too.”

He pulled a sheet of paper from the tube and taped it up to the easel. She studied it over his shoulder, not quite believing what she was seeing. Where was the glossy high-rise? Where were the three-thousand-square-foot luxury condos?

“What’s this?”

“My plans for the Sunset Park Chocolate Works.”

“What’s the Chocolate Works?” someone asked.

“Good question,” Eli said, taking over the microphone. “First, let me introduce myself. I’m Eli Ward from Hearthstone Development, the new owner of the Sunset Park Chocolate Works, formerly Candy Court.”

“Great, he’s changing the name,” someone grumbled from below.

“What else are you going to change?” someone else asked, louder. Other voices joined in, and the hum of the crowd rose to a dull roar.

Eli seemed unfazed. “I suggest we adjourn for a few minutes. Give everyone a chance to come up and have a look at the plans. Then I’ll be happy to answer any questions you might have.”

He put his hand over the mic and turned to Brooke. “And you and I can discuss this in private.”

She stared at him for a long, awkward moment, weighing her options. It was decision time. Open up to hurt or walk away. Finally, she pushed his hand away from the microphone and leaned in.

“Meeting adjourned.”