Each breath we share feels charged with the kind of electricity that could power all of freaking Seattle.
At last, his winter-blue eyes lower.“Shit.I should g?—“
"You should go," I agree.
Neither of us moves.
"This was definitely?—“
"A mistake," I finish, chin lifting as I stare into his eyes."Absolutely.The kissing.And the...other parts."
"The other parts," he repeats, his voice rough.
"Very unprofessional."
"Extremely."
Another crash from the dining room, followed by a triumphant bleat.
"I should really?—"
"Check on that.Yes."He steps back, adjusting his glasses, smoothing his shirt."I'll see myself out."
"Luke?"
He pauses at the doorway.
"Thank you.For coming.For fixing the system.For..."
"For the quality control?"His smile is wry.
"Exactly."
He leaves, and I slump against the counter, my lips still tingling, my skin still humming from his touch.
From the dining room, Buttercup bleats what sounds distinctly like judgment.
"Don't start," I tell her, heading to assess the damage."We're pretending that didn't happen."
But as I find her standing in the remains of what used to be a flower arrangement, looking deeply unrepentant, I can still taste wine and Luke on my lips.
This is fine.Everything is fine.
Because the inn is saved.For now, at least.
Because the bookings are coming in.
And because I definitely didn't just complicate everything by putting my tongue in my business partner's mouth.
Buttercup fixes me with a stare that says she's not buying it.
Neither am I.
10
DAMSEL IN THIS DRESS
LUKE
