Drop the Mitts

<p><strong style=color: rgba(15 17 17 1)>He's a bad idea wrapped in a smirk. And I've already made that mistake once.</strong></p><p></p><p><span style=color: rgba(15 17 17 1)>I came back to Calgary for business not pleasure. Settling my ex-husband's estate was supposed to be a simple temporary detour-deal with the mess Troy Bowen left behind finalize the paperwork and leave.</span></p><p></p><p><em style=color: rgba(15 17 17 1)>Then I met André Leclerc.</em></p><p></p><p><span style=color: rgba(15 17 17 1)>Cocky. Infuriating. Too young by at least eight years. He's everything I should avoid with a reckless charm that reminds me too much of my past mistakes. He flirts like it's a game makes ridiculous promises and then shows up at my door with tacos like I didn't tell him twice to back the hell off.</span></p><p></p><p><strong style=color: rgba(15 17 17 1)>Except-not everything about Andre adds up. </strong></p><p></p><p><span style=color: rgba(15 17 17 1)>The way he drives a beat-up Chevy but then covers his teammate's fees without a word. The way he shows up when no one else is watching. The way he works a blue-collar job but then understands the ins and outs of real estate as well as I do even though I've built my career in corporate and property law.</span></p><p></p><p><span style=color: rgba(15 17 17 1)>And the way he looks at me-like he's addicted to pantsuits. Like he knows exactly how to get me to let loose . . .</span></p><p></p><p><span style=color: rgba(15 17 17 1)>I don't do reckless anymore. I don't do charming. But when we're forced to work on the same charity game together I can't seem to get him and his damn tacos out of my head.</span></p><p></p><p><span style=color: rgba(15 17 17 1)>Six weeks and then I can go back to my quiet structured life. I can hold my ground until then can't I?</span></p><p></p><p></p>