“It was delicious. I haven’t had a burger in far too long. And that cake. You need to share your recipe.” She was so at ease with conversation, regardless of who it was with.
Unless it was with him when she was flustered, he thought with a smile.
Chef looked at Beckett. “Maybe we can do that on one of her video reels.” He looked back at Presley. “My husband and I have followed all your socials for months now. Louis used the discount you posted on TikTok for a gorgeous new Sherpa rug.”
She laughed with delight, the sound sending a punch of hunger straight through him.
“Oh, that makes me so happy. Thank you. I’ll be sure to follow you back. You know, a Sherpa rug would look great in the main room in front of the fireplace.”
It took him a second to tune back in to the fact that they were both looking at him.
“Oh. I don’t know. You can ask Gray and Jilly about the reel. I’m sure they’d both love it. More buzz, right?” Then he realized he’d missed Presley’s suggestion. “I’ll ask Jill about the rug.”
“Maybe we can get Beckett to help with breakfast. He can go shirtless.” Chef Shane said the words in a deadpan voice, but the glint in his eye gave away his humor.
“Very funny,” Beckett said, watching Presley’s gaze darken.
“Time to clean up,” Chef announced, turning the trolley toward the door, leaving them alone.
When she came back to sit down beside him, Beckett could only stare, unsure if he’d imagined the wave of lust in her gaze. Presley smiled innocently, naturally, at him. “What?”
“Do you charm everyone you meet?”
Presley’s eyes widened even as her mouth formed a little O. Beckett reminded himself not to look at her mouth. Too tempting.
She nudged his shoulder, the heat of her hand all but searing him, and he realized he ought to jump in the lake tonight instead of thinking about the hot tub.
“Hardly. Trust me on that one.”
He felt the absence of her hand, so he leaned in, inhaled the sweet, subtle scent of Presley and his own body wash.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that when evidence points to the contrary.” His gaze wandered to the delicate spot where her neck met her shoulder and he thought about pressing his mouth there to feel her pulse.
Shit. He really needed to redirect the conversation.
“Maybe you’re just easily charmed,” she said in a breathy voice.
He laughed too loud. “I’m not. There’s just something about you, Presley… Marie Ayers.”
She tipped her head back and laughed. “There it is—but I don’t know if that was a middle-name-worthy moment.”
Beckett couldn’t stop himself from leaning in farther, though he knew he should put distance between them. “I like the way your whole name sounds.”
Their gazes locked again, and this time, his heart fishtailed, moving frantically like it was trying to stay afloat in all the unexpected feelings.
“His idea for doing a couple of reels is a good one. Another way to bring positive attention to the lodge. If you ask for a deposit with bookings, which I noticed you don’t, it would bring in money for some strategic marketing.” She winced. “I’m sorry. Talk about overstepping. You probably think I’m a—”
He didn’t know what she was going to say, but the truth left him on a sharp exhale, cutting her off. “I think you’re magic.”
Presley sucked in a breath, and it felt like they were exchanging air. His for hers and back again. He didn’t even realize he was moving closer until Gray came back into the room, followed by Jilly.
Beckett and Presley both startled, and suddenly, he didn’t want to meet about the lodge or hang with his siblings. Every tiny particle of what made him whole wanted nothing more than to be alone with Presley.
He stood, looked at his siblings. Jilly sat with her notebook, the one she treated as though it held all the winning plays for a Super Bowl game. Gray met Beckett’s gaze with a questioning glance.
“Listen, can we reschedule? I’ve got to get up early. I need to check the hot tub, and Presley is coming with me.” Not his most subtle moment.
Jilly’s expression of surprise was a contrast to Grayson’s smirk.
