Free The Billionaire's Gamble by Ava Miles

were you? I went by the shop when you didn’t come back after seven. I’ve been worried.”
    Something sharp and warm moved through his chest. “I went for a beer at the pub. I…thought you could use some time alone.”
    The slope of her throat moved when she swallowed. “I know you don’t have a phone you can use here, and maybe I’m being a mother hen, but…can you call me next time or use someone’s phone to text me?”
    He wanted to ask her if she’d ever asked Martin to provide her with his whereabouts, but he already knew the answer.
    “People here are nice,” she rushed on, “and they’d be happy to let you make a call.”
    He wanted to smooth the frown line between her brows. So, the little time they’d spent away from each other hadn’t changed anything. He still felt an incredible pull to her, and clearly, so did she.
    “I will next time. I’m sorry I worried you.”
    She clutched her hands. “It’s just that you’re new in town, and… Well, I’m going to turn in now that I know you’re safe and sound.”
    He bid her goodnight, and let himself outside again, more than a little off balance. Other than Chase, no one ever worried about him. His mother meant well. She’d just never understood him, so he’d given up trying to explain himself to her a long time ago. And his father had never contacted them again after the divorce.
    How long was a month? he asked himself as he sat on the front porch again with his friends—the constellations, his thoughts, and his design ideas.
    A long time.
    For the rest of the week, he painted, savoring the quiet focus it gave his mind. Sometimes Margie would swing by to help him after her other job was over. Other times, she would go back to the house to do more test baking.
    He didn’t stay out again without telling her, and she didn’t say anything about worrying about him again.
    The next week, he continued to paint her bakery, bringing her vision to life.
    Coming home to the smell of fresh-baked bread each night made his stomach growl pretty much constantly, but he would usually make a quick dinner, sometimes of the dreaded ramen, and then get out of her way unless she was chatty. So far she hadn’t been as chatty, and he knew it wasn’t only because her mind was on her new bakery.
    She’d pulled back a little as well.
    He and Martin ran into each other a few times, but they didn’t speak much since the graduate student didn’t hang out in the common rooms when he was home, which was rare. And that was just fine. He wasn’t here to make friends, even though in truth, he didn’t have many real friends except for Chase. Sure, he partied with a lot of people. Heck, he could command the most sought-after invitations in Europe, but he wouldn’t call any of those people if he needed to express this thoughts.
    By Thursday, Evan had perfected his Paint Prep Mistress and sent his high-tech design and mock prototype to his head of research and development. Chase was blustering about his use of company manpower, but Evan was managing it. He’d hired Chase for his business sense, after all, and they’d always agreed business and R&D were like oil and water when it came to innovation. Evan had to run with the inventions coming to him because he knew they were leading him somewhere. He just wasn’t sure of the destination yet.
    The only parts of Hot Cross Buns he had left were the bathrooms and the kitchen. He was going to paint the bathrooms first. The kitchen would probably take him a few days since Margie wanted him to paint the concrete floor as well. She was pleased he was so meticulous, but he knew she wished he would work a bit faster. To him, it was more important to do it right.
    Once he finished the kitchen, he was going to head out front to give her exterior a new look. She’d chosen to go with a black and violet paint combination that would match the bakery’s new sign, which was currently sitting in the middle of the main floor, waiting to be