Redeeming The Billionaire (The Sherbrookes of Newport, #5)

Crossing the street, he pulled out his smartphone when it beeped letting him know he had a text message. Another message from Lindsey. He’d told her when he relocated to Rhode Island a month ago he had no idea when he might be back in London again. If all went as he hoped, he’d remain here in Providence until he made his way to the United States Senate. Without stopping, Trent typed out a message as he walked toward the bakery, the scent of the pastries and espresso already making his stomach rumble and he hadn’t even stepped inside yet.

He hit an object and heard the startled cry of surprise seconds before the hot coffee splashed across his hand and phone. The message forgotten, he looked down at the living object he’d just run over. “I’m sorry about that. Are you okay?” He knelt down to help the woman retrieve the papers she’d dropped. Several were covered with coffee, as was the front of her blouse.

“I’m fine.” The woman stacked the pages together and stood. “I’ll need to reprint these though.” She accepted the pages he held out to her.

Trent stood and without a second thought, he reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a case holding his business cards. “Send a copy of your dry cleaning bill to this address.” He held out the card, but she made no move to accept it.

“Thank you, but that’s not necessary.”

Trent let his hand fall back to his side. “At least let me replace your coffee.”

The woman shook her cup. “There is a little left. I’ll make my usual afternoon stop later and get more.” A hint of impatience sneaked into her voice.

Turned down twice in less than three minutes; he didn’t think that had ever happened to him before. He assumed either the woman didn’t recognize him or was one of the few people out there who turned down a freebie when offered. Trent dropped his business card on her stacked papers. “Just in case you change your mind about the dry cleaning.”

This time the woman picked up the card. “Don’t worry about it. Accidents happen.” She gave him a kind smile and began to turn. “Have a good afternoon.”

Trent stood and watched the woman walk away, enjoying the sight of her bare legs as she headed down the sidewalk. For him, there was just something about a great pair of legs that drove him up the wall. In his hand, his phone beeped letting him know he’d received another message. After typing in a short reply, he stuck the phone in his jacket pocket and headed into the bakery.