Usually he enjoyed negotiating deals for their family-owned distillery. But the thought of negotiating anything with Kayleigh made a knot form in his gut.

Perhaps because, deep down, he still saw her as the girl with curly pigtails and thick glasses who had once been his closest friend. Until a falling-out had made them bitter adversaries.

Parker heaved a sigh, pushed open the car door and climbed to his feet.

Waiting five more minutes, or even five more days, wouldn’t make the task ahead any easier.

Parker straightened his tie and grabbed his attaché from the back seat of the car. He wasn’t that preteen boy with a killer crush on Kayleigh Jemison anymore. He was a goddamned professional, and he was going to act like it, even if it killed him.

As Parker approached the shop, he caught sight of Kayleigh’s shock of coppery-red curls through the window. She was gorgeous, as always, with her honey-brown skin and expressive coffee-brown eyes.

Kayleigh was laughing with a customer, but as she waved goodbye to the woman, she caught a glimpse of him standing outside, gawking at her.

Her deep scowl and hard stare confirmed exactly what he’d expected. Kayleigh Jemison was going to give him hell.

He reached into his pocket, flipped the top on a tube of antacids and popped two into his mouth.

* * *

Kayleigh Jemison folded her arms as she stared through the window of her small handmade-jewelry-and-consignment shop.

What the hell was he doing there? It wasn’t Christmas and his mother’s and sister’s birthdays weren’t imminent. And the uptight, Wall-Street-wannabe certainly wasn’t the kind of man who’d wear her hand-tooled jewelry. So why was he here? And why on earth was he staring at her like she was a museum exhibit?

Kayleigh involuntarily dragged her fingers through her wild red curls, trying to create some semblance of order.

It was a slow weekday, so she’d been in the back, stamping and hammering metal pieces to be shipped to customers across the country. She wore a faded old T-shirt and a tattered pair of jeans stained with leather dye. A black bandanna pulled her hair back.

In short, she looked a hot damn mess.

Of all the days for him to show up at her shop... Kayleigh sighed, giving up any hope of redeeming her look.

What did it matter anyway?

As far as Parker was concerned, she was beneath the mighty Abbotts. They were the family with the keys to the kingdom in their growing small town of Magnolia Lake, Tennessee, a gem situated in the foothills of the picturesque Smoky Mountains.

The Abbotts, owners of King’s Finest Distillery, the largest local employer, were well-known and beloved by everyone in town.

Except her.

The little bell over the entrance tinkled when Parker yanked open the door, holding it for the customer who was leaving. The woman was juggling her purse, her bags and an unruly toddler.

So he does have manners. He just uses them selectively.

“Parker Abbott, what brings you into my shop today?” Kayleigh stood straight as a rod and tried to relax her involuntary scowl.

She’d returned to Magnolia Lake to start a business after going to college in Nashville and then living in Atlanta. Waging an outright war with the Abbotts would be detrimental to her interests. Besides, despite her disdain for Parker and his father, his mother and sister were nice enough. They’d been longtime customers and had referred lots of other clients. They’d even invited her to sell a few of her higher-end pieces on consignment at the distillery gift shop.

It was a lucrative partnership. So despite her utter disdain for the man who’d once been her closest friend, but betrayed her without the slightest hint of an apology, she would play nice.

For now.

“I wondered if you planned on coming in or if you were auditioning to be a living statue.”

Okay, maybe not exactly nice, but close enough.

He glared at her with his typical Parker Abbott glare, but then he did something beyond strange.

He actually smiled.

Or at least he was attempting to smile. He looked like Jack Nicholson as the Joker.

She kept that observation to herself, but she couldn’t help the smirk that spread across her face.

“Good afternoon, Kayleigh,” Parker said in a tone that was unnaturally cheerful for him. “I was hoping I could have a few minutes of your time, if you’re not too busy.”

Kayleigh scanned the empty store, but bit back a flippant response. “Sure. What can I do for you, Abbott?”

Parker relaxed and his smile looked a little more natural. “Actually, I’d like to

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