“I know you can. I just know how hard it is for you with the inn shutting down.”
“Hard for me, or hard for you?” He kissed the top of my head. “I’m actually looking forward to a change.”
My father walked to the other side of the kitchen and through the double doors, and I glared at Myles. “I thought you were supposed to be out of town for the day?”
Howard had told me that Myles had taken the private jet to the city because he had some business to take care of back home.
“Are you keeping tabs on me, HB?” Sometimes he chose to shorten the annoying nickname he’d given me, so I’d adopted the same strategy.
“I just noticed you weren’t lurking around trying to put your nose in my business, MB.” I turned to walk out of the kitchen, and he followed. “Of course you would get a big head about it.”
“You sure like to talk about my big head, don’t you?” His voice was laced with humor as his fingers wrapped around my forearm, and I came to a stop. My back was pressed against the wall in the hallway leading to the entry of the inn.
The space was small, and the smell of bergamot and black currant flooded my senses.
“I don’t care about your big head,” I snarled. “Either one of them.”
He leaned forward, one hand on each side of the wall, caging me in. “So you do remember?”
My heart raced, and my mouth went dry. “Is that what you want? You want me to say that I remember that you have a big peen?”
He stared at me. “A ‘big peen’?”
“Just calling it as I see it.” I chuckled.
He sighed. “Have dinner with me.”
“Why?”
“I want to talk to you about something business related, and you’re always so hostile, so I figured dinner would be a more relaxing setting.”
“I’m not going home with you,” I said, tipping my chin up.
“I wasn’t asking you to come home with me.”
I rolled my eyes and glanced down at my phone to check the time. “Fine. Dinner. No drinks. This is business. I’ll give you one hour. I’ve got plans tonight.”
“Do you have a big diamond deal going down this evening?” His voice was gruff.
His face was close to mine, and I squeezed my thighs together at the dull ache residing there from his nearness.
I hated that I looked forward to seeing him every day.
I hated that I was disappointed when I’d heard that he was out of town when I’d arrived this morning.
And I hated that I’d made up more excuses than necessary to stop by the inn when I knew he’d be there.
“Maybe.”
“Or a hot date?” he pressed.
“It’s none of your business. You’ve got one hour, Moneybags.”
“Great. I’ll drive.” He stepped back and motioned for me to lead the way.
When we made our way outside and he opened the passenger door, I paused, one brow raised. “The only reason I’m agreeing to get in your car is because I didn’t drive here. I walked. Where are we going?”
“Where it all started. The Moose Brew.” He had the audacity to lean over and reach for my seat belt, and I slapped his wrist away.
