Oddly enough, Ihadbeen considering such a thing, but that didn't guarantee I would've acted on it. "What are you saying? That I’m nosy?"
"Hell, yeah, you're nosy," he said. "That's why you were casing the joint."
"The joint?" I snorted. "Do you mean my own house?"
"It'smyhouse now," he said. "Good location, too."
"Sothat'swhy you rented my place?" I gestured toward the construction stuff. "Because it's so close to this?"
"That's one of the reasons," he said. "But I liked what I saw in the pictures too. The house – it looked like the kind of place you'd like to come home to, you know?"
I sure did.And I was stupidly flattered. Between me and Lexie, I'd done most of the decorating. I'd taken all of the rental photos, too, hoping to showcase the home's cozy appeal.
And now, the fact that Bryce had noticed made my skin warm with an embarrassing amount of pleasure. "Thanks."
"Probably I should thankyou," he said. "The truth is, I hate hotels."
I couldn't even imagine. "Seriously? I love hotels."
"That's what you saynow, but after a few hundred hotel rooms, you start to see it differently."
"Oh come on," I said. "You can't have stayed inthatmany."
"Wanna bet?" He gave a rueful chuckle. "I started out as an insurance adjustor."
"Really? What wasthatlike?"
"Awful," he said. "They'd send us in to evaluate claims after natural disasters – hurricanes, floods, you name it. I never saw so much misery in my life." He shook his head. "And, like I said, the hotel life gets old faster than you'd think."
"But you couldn't have been doing it forthatlong," I said. "You're way too young."
"Saysyou. I'll be thirty-three in March."
This was older than I'd originally guessed, but hardly ancient. "But that's still young," I told him. "And besides, you're not doing the insurance thing anymore, are you?"
"Hell no. I gavethatup when my side businesses became the primaries."
I recalled what I'd learned from the realtor. Bryce had made his money from selling two very different things – little houses and big burgers.
Sadly, I knew which oneIwould be dealing with.
At something in my expression, Bryce asked, "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." I tried for a casual shrug. "I'm just thinking of burger joints." I pointed to the nearby building. "You know, like this one."
"So you're not a fan?"
"Not really."And that was a massive understatement.
He studied my face. "So…should I ask the question?"
"What question?"
His lips twitched like they wanted to smile. "What's your beef?"
I couldn’t help it. I laughed. "That issocorny."
"No," he said with a solemn look. "It's beefy."
