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In the days since my weekend with Chance, it feels like nothing has been going my way. I lost a case that should have been open and shut, I got a parking ticket while running to pick up my dry cleaning, and now one of my biggest cases has been delayed—again.

I don’t believe in karma or the universe playing tricks on me, but I have to admit something is happening since starting this agreement with him.

As if this is my punishment for breaking my rule of no hookups.

I don’t regret our time together. In fact, it was one of the best weekends I’ve had with a man. In a very un-Chance like manner, he was very sweet and attentive. He made me meals, fed me breakfast in bed and ordered the best food in the city for dinners. Even making Wyatt meet Addie at my place so I could have a fresh set of clothes, because as Chance put it, ‘there was no way Wyatt was going anywhere near my panty drawer.’

And I had to agree with him on that one.

It was even worth the slew of accusatory texts from Addie asking if I’d lost my mind and if Chance had abducted me and was holding me in his basement.

I actually had to call her on that one to assure her that I was not being held there against my will.

But, all of this doesn’t mean I don’t still have a nagging feeling that this is only going to end in heartbreak. More specifically, my heart being broken. I don’t think Chase has the vulnerability to have his heart broken, nor do I have the power to do so. It’s highly unlikely Chance lets anyone in close enough to have his heart threatened.

Our weekend together was purely about getting each other out of our systems. Scratching an itch. All he did was help me turn off my brain; stop me from overthinking like I always do.

And did he ever.

For once in my life, I gave in and just let myself feel. Feel how wonderful it is to have his lips on mine—just like I thought. To have his rough, calloused hands run along my bare skin. Just thinking about it makes me feel his phantom touches on my sides and through my hair. I thought I was going to combust when he gripped my throat during one of our lovemaking sessions. I’ve never had a man do that to me before, but now it’s all I can think about.

I have to stop myself from fanning my face, which I have no right reliving that, since it will not be happening again. The weekend was a one and done. I can’t let Chance have any more of me than he already does, or I may never recover.

“Dakota?” Ella, the company’s receptionist, asks as she pokes her head through my office door. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” I sigh, tossing my pen onto my desk. The last thing I need is to be hot and bothered at work. “The Bloomfield Farms case has been pushed back.”

“Again?” Ella walks into the room with a large vase of flowers in her hands and a frown on her face.

“Yeah, uh, what’s that?” I look skeptically at the rather expensive looking arrangement.

“These were just dropped off for you. It seems you have an admirer.” The frown is quickly replaced with a smile as she places the vase on my desk in front of me. “Are these from Chance?”

“Doubt it,” I grumble under my breath.

There’s no way Chance would do something like this. No matter how out of character it was for him to spend the weekend with me. Or do all those sweet and thoughtful things; this was in public. Where people would know.

No, these couldn’t be from Chance.

But at the same time, wasn’t that the point?

I pluck the card from the petals, noticing Ella looming over me, waiting for a response. We’re around the same age. She’s sweet with long, straight blonde hair and big blue eyes. She’s good at her job and has always been kind to me since I started working here. I think she’s somewhat of a hopeless romantic, judging by the way she always seems to be reading a romance novel or talking about the latest rom-com she’s watched. All of which have really ramped up since she married country star Greyson Wallace.

She could have quit her job and been a stay-at-home wife and mother to her new stepdaughter, but she said she likes to keep busy, and I can respect that.

As I pull the card from the envelope, I note the messy writing. As much as he confuses me and pisses me off, his writing makes me smile.

I let out a laugh and hold the card to my chest. Looking up, I see Ella with a bright smile.

“So, what did it say? It must have been something romantic by the smile on your face.”

Romantic? No. One hundred percent Chance Declan? Yes.

“Yeah, something like that.”

Ella keeps watching me with hearts in her eyes, her hands clasped together in front of her. “Are you guys serious? You must be. He’s never been seen with the same woman twice. I don’t think he’s ever sent flowers before.”

“How would you know that, Ella?”

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