Which of them had moved closer? It was hard to tell, but they were nearly front-to-front now. It wasn’t one of her best ideas, but the ones she had thought were great hadn’t worked out all that well either, so why not try a little something different? Something she hadn’t written down in her planner.
Presley’s pulse thrummed steadily at the base of her neck. “I didn’t expect you.”
“Back at you. But I don’t know where that leaves us,” he said with a hint of sadness.
She nodded. She wouldn’t push. “Wherever we want it to, I guess. I’m going to get cleaned up. Maybe I’ll see you later.”Idiot. Of course you’ll see him later.
“Presley.” Her name on his lips could become one of her favorite things, and it had nothing to do with how sweet or sexy he was but instead was because he said it like she mattered. Like those two syllables meant something to him.
“Hmm?” Her throat grew thick but she forced more words out. “If you’re around later, maybe we can hang out.” Look at her sounding all breezy as a storm brewed in her chest.
A low growl left him and his hands unclenched, reached for her. “This might be a slippery slope, but something tells me you’re worth losing my footing.”
He leaned down, pressed a soft kiss to the tip of her nose that didn’t match the way he held her; the way his fingers dug deliciously into her hips. The duality made her senses spin. “Not maybe. Iwillsee you later.”
He walked away, leaving her staring after him, her hands a little shaky, her heart jumping like a jackrabbit on speed. She still wasn’t sure what she thought of the great outdoors. She didn’t know if it was okay to get lost in a man’s eyes after only a couple of days. But nothing made her want to back up or back down. She’d learned that having a solid plan didn’t always make something pan out. Maybe it was time to stop being so careful. Stop thinking before she acted. Beckett made her want to do nothing more than feel. Everything. He made her want to go barreling down that slippery slope headfirst. She might end up buried under an avalanche of hurt, but as he’d said about her, she got the feeling he’d be worth it. More than that? She was worth the leap.
Seventeen
Under the hot, strong spray of the shower, Presley made a decision: if she had less than a week with Beckett, she would make the most of it. She sensed his hesitancy and even understood it, but she was tired of waiting for perfect moments to seize the day. She wanted to seize the day and the man. If he’d have her. No labels, no rules, no expectations.
By the time she joined the others in the dining room, the sun was high in the sky, shimmering through the tall windows.
Mel and Ollie were folding napkins at one end of the table while Jill put out plates and cutlery. They were clearly in the middle of a conversation.
“In the past, this place has been open year-round. I’m not sure what Grayson plans for the winter, but I’ll have to go back to the mainland.”
“I want to stay here,” Ollie said. “Hi, Presley. Want to make napkin swans? Mel knows how to do everything.”
Mel and Jill laughed. Mel pressed a kiss to Ollie’s head. “You are just the sweetest thing.” She glanced up at Presley. “I was a kindergarten teacher for twenty-five years. I simply have a lot of tricks up my sleeve. Speaking of which, did you get things sorted out for your boss?”
Presley looked at Jill and grinned, then back at Mel. “Nothing gets by you. I was able to arrange all of the reservations so she wouldn’t have to.”
“I wish I could be as organized here as you seem to be from afar,” Jill said.
“It’s just because I’ve done it before. You guys are doing a great job with the lodge. You’ll find your own groove.” She hoped she hadn’tadded more pressure by offering help or suggestions. It wasn’t her place. Maybe she should grab a book and go back to her vacation for one. She considered it for one second until Ollie came over to show her the swan she’d made.
“This one is yours.” Ollie beamed. The little neck flopped forward.
Beckett walked into the dining room with Mr. Dayton. Both were smiling. Presley’s stomach gave a little jump when their gazes locked.
“What’s everyone up to here?” Beckett asked, strolling over to pick up Ollie, his gaze still on Presley.
“We made swans for dinner,” Ollie said.
“I’m not eating swans, kid.”
Ollie laughed. “Napkin swans!”
Beckett jostled the little girl, making her laugh more. “I’m not eating napkins either.”
“You’re silly, Uncle Beck.”
Presley’s heart nearly melted into a puddle when the little girl curled into his neck and just rested her head against him.
Beckett leaned his head on Ollie’s, glancing at Presley again. “No swans for you?”
She shook her head. “Let’s just say I have other talents.”
