Chapter 2 #2
My breathing quickens as I scramble for a reply. Did he just ask me out? I replay our banter quickly. I think so. That invitation was as straightforward as they come.
I attempt to calm my pitter-pattering heart. “To Stonehill or down the road to the cottage?”
“Both. One taste and you’ll never go back to the ordinary.”
Using a nightcap as an excuse to get a woman to visit is as old-fashioned as his drink itself. And I’m not upset over it. Apparently, neither are my heating cheeks as they put on a display for him. I fan myself to try to keep from heating all over for this man.
But there’s such a charm to this version of flirting versus a booty call.
I don’t need to read about him on paper to know this guy prefers a steak to a burger and a one-night stand to forever.
It’s written all over him, carved into those hard muscles, and that jaw that ticks with impatience every time he thinks I’m not paying attention.
No one this hot walks around without some history. It’s shaping his whole aura. And I know better than to tangle with a player. Especially when I can tell this player gets what he wants, which won’t be me this summer.
I take a step back, needing the space and clarity, escaping the pull of my bee to his honey, and breathe a bit freer.
It’s only in my best interest to stick to business by backing away from this banter about being friends.
We’re not friends, so I need to stick to a formal-name basis and protect myself.
Wrapping my arms around the basket, I say, “I’m glad I got what you want.”
His eyebrow cocks.
“I mean, the service I provide is what I hope sets me apart from others.” When his lips part, I realize what I’ve said. “What I mean to say is that I want to provide the best service to my clients. Yes, the profile is long, but it really helps me curate the stay to your needs.”
“Oh, really?” His dulcet tone could lure me anywhere.
Oh, geez. I smile sheepishly. It’s time for me to stop, just stop everything—talking, ogling, mentally throwing my willpower away—and collect myself. I need to keep my mouth shut. Close it. Zip it.
A grin teases the corners of his mouth. “Does everyone get the best of you?”
“Pretty much.” My brain can’t keep up with these mind games. Are we flirting? Are we talking? Is this business? “I’ll continue this level of service if I ever take ownership.”
“You don’t own the cottage?”
“No. Long story. Technically, it’s a short story, but not one we need to get into.”
“I have time,” he says as if the day won’t slip through our fingers when we’re not looking.
“I don’t.” We stand in an unannounced staring contest as the seconds tick by in my head. I cave first to be polite. But losing to him feels worse under the circumstances—him, me, and this weird energy between us—draining my hostess battery. I shove the basket forward. “Here. This is for you.”
He reaches forward, taking hold of one of the handles as his eyes graze over the goodies I packed for them. Should I be studying the dimple in his chin, or the lightest dusting of scruff clinging to the drift of his sharp jawline? No, but he’s put both on brazen display, so it’s hard not to.
When his eyes return to mine, his gaze travels the length of me like he’s not sure where he wants to start first, while daring to drag his tongue over the flow of his bottom lip. “Looks good.”
I exhale, trying to calm the butterflies he’s awakened. If I don’t, I won’t survive this man if he keeps looking at me like that. “It’s just something special we wanted to give to say thank you for being our guests for the summer.”
Holding the basket, he replies, “You’re welcome.”
A laugh bursts from me like a clucking chicken upon hearing the response.
The little glimpses into who this guy thinks he is lead me to realize that looks apparently aren’t everything.
His personality comes with a sculpted body and face that could grace the pages of magazines.
But I’m not foolish enough to fall for such superficial features.
Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate him, though. Silently. To myself.
I laugh under my breath. “Alrighty then.” Though not an official meeting, I still need to visit with Mrs. Dover about the property.
Talking to her is still hanging around the recesses of my mind, which doesn’t allow me to invest as much time as I’d like bantering with him, so I start the obligatory tour of the house to hurry this along.
I don’t want to chicken out and put off talking to her for however long it takes to gather the courage again.
It’s time to be direct so there’s no misunderstanding where I stand.
Currently, standing next to his handsome giant isn’t getting me anywhere, so I clap my hands once. “I should get you settled, Mr. Sutton.”
“Daniel.”
I turn back to catch his languid gaze over my shoulder, though I have the sneakiest suspicion his eyes were aimed lower before I caught him. “What was that?”
“You can call me Daniel, remember?”
Get in. Get out. Pretend I didn’t hang on every word that came from his mouth and move on with life. “Yes, I remember, Mr. Sutton. But I think it’s best if we keep things professional.” I stop to face him again. “And you’re parked in a no-parking zone.”
“How is that area designated no parking when it’s perfect for parking?”
Our gazes travel to the side of the house at the same time. “It’s for safety purposes. No one can park there like the sign says.”
“I’m partial to that spot.”
“How are you partial to a spot you just started parking in?” My eyes flick to him.
“Anyway, it’s a hazard.” He somehow manages to make me feel judged for caring about this.
So what if I don’t have much to focus on?
It’s a current life setback, is all. Not everything has panned out the way I’d like, but it will. I can feel it. “And rules are rules.”
He shifts, though his gaze narrows like a hawk who’s spotted his next prey. “Rules are meant to be broken.”
I gasp before I can contain it. My fingers tap to my chest, and I hold back the offense from encroaching on my voice. “Not in Mountain Laurel Cove. Word of warning, it’s best to stay on the right side of this town. The locals aren’t shy and very vocal about troublemakers and rule breakers.”
“Small town gossip, huh?” He chuckles again even though I was only giving him fair warning after seeing how disrespect gets handled here. “Everybody knows everybody—”
“And they are more than happy to give advice on how to live your life.”
“Sounds personal.”
I snort, involuntarily, of course, but that doesn’t stop a taste of embarrassment from wedging its way into my psyche.
Rocking my head back and forth, I grin. “Trust me. It is.” I start for the house.
“Let me show you around, and then I can get out of your hair.” I take a few steps across the deck.
“I’ve stocked the fridge as requested, and—”
“That’s not necessary.”
Stopping, I look back to see his sunglasses set back on the bridge of his nose while holding the basket in the spot where I left him. “What’s not? I already stocked it—”
“The tour.” He summons me back to him with a wave of his hand.
Excuse me? The gesture raises my hackles. He hasn’t really put off complete jerk vibes up until this point. I sure as heck hope he doesn’t start now.
I stay in my spot. “I want to point out the tricky—”
“I’m sure I can figure it out.” The arrogance pulls a smirk into place like it’s in its natural habitat.
I find myself blinking slower as my eyes narrow in reflex. His reaction is rude, quite frankly, and as much as he thinks he can do everything on his own—he can’t.
But if Mr. Know-It-All wants to figure out the quirks of this old place, I’ll let him.
Why fight him? One attempt at the shower will have him calling me to fix the hot water.
He’ll need my tips on unplugging the kitchen drain, and he’ll be begging me to reset the box when streaming’s not working every other time he tries, thanks to the tree coverage.
And when that happens, I can drink my cheap wine with my sisters and have a good laugh.
Pure entertainment. Until he has to take a cold shower, and then he’ll be begging me to return.
I smile so sweetly I could rot a tooth. “I just bet you can, Mr. Sutton.” Literally. The sister betting pool is back in play. “Have a good day.”
I return to my car, leaving him to enjoy his day without me in it. This whole interaction was hot and cold, cold and hot. It was unpredictable at best just like the shower here at the cottage. I get into the driver’s seat and start the engine.
Mr. Sutton is an anomaly that is probably best accepted as-is. Spikey. Moody. And the most tragic of them all, ridiculously handsome.
Good thing I won’t need to be out here very often. I don’t think my eyes can handle the hotness—or his attitude—all summer long. As I hold the button to raise the window and block him like the sun is blinding me by visoring my eyes, he says, “Thanks for stopping by, Ms. Season.”
Glancing back at him, I can’t help but wonder how I’m supposed to survive the summer with not much to do and this guy as a next-door neighbor.
Yes, I do. I need to focus on the prize.
And although he’d be considered one to most women, my prize is not a six-foot-four man with movie-star looks and a smile that is as deadly to my willpower as tequila is to me.
At least not this summer.
If I had the property in my name, I might be tempted to break a few rules with this man. But, right now, I have bigger fish to fry than Mr. Sutton.
“You’re welcome,” I say. “And oh! Don’t forget to move your car. Thanks.” Keeping a smile plastered on my face, I feel better getting in the last word. I can’t control if he’ll listen, but I’ve done my job.
I catch that earlier smirk across his face before I even shift into reverse. I knew I shouldn’t have looked back, but there was something about him that made me want to.
As soon as I reach the street, I let my mind flow back to what just happened. Who is he? Or more importantly, who does he think he is?
“Rules are for breaking,” I quietly repeat and then laugh. I may be almost five-six in my highest heels and take after my mom in demeanor, but I got my grandmother’s sass when pushed. Mr. Sutton has met his match. He just doesn’t know it yet.
I’m absolutely positive about one thing regarding the infamous Mr. New York Sutton. He’s either going to be the best tenant ever or the worst I’ve encountered.
Whichever way it turns out, it’s going to be one long, hot summer.