“Go where?” she asked, still trying to maintain that playful tone even though I could see the hurt creeping in around the edges.
“Home. New York. I need to get that offer drawn up, remember?”
“Oh.” She turned back to the coffeemaker, but her movements had lost their easy confidence. “When are you coming back?”
“After I get the deal structured.”
I knew I was being cold, knew I was hurting her feelings, but Hudson’s call had reminded me of exactly how much I stood to lose if I didn’t get my head back in the game. My trust fund, my lifestyle, my place in the family, all of it depended on me doing what I’d been sent here to do.
“Can I have my shirt back?” I asked, hating myself for the way my voice sounded.
Sylvie turned to face me, and for a moment I saw something vulnerable flash across her features. Then her expression hardened. Anger.
“Of course,” she said coolly.
Without breaking eye contact, she reached up and began unbuttoning my shirt. Slowly. Deliberately. When she shrugged it off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, she stood there completely naked in the morning light streaming through her kitchen window.
She was breathtaking. Absolutely fucking breathtaking. And the casual way she looked at me, like her nudity was just another Tuesday morning occurrence, made me want to forget everything Hudson had said and pull her back to bed.
Instead, I picked up the shirt and pulled it on, my fingers fumbling with the buttons.
She turned around and went back to making her coffee, naked as the day she was born.
And fuck me, her body. She was tone and lean. Her ass was so fucking perky. My fingers twitched with the need to touch her. My cock was straining against my boxers. And my heart was trying to claw out of my chest.
I walked back to her bedroom and quickly pulled on the rest of my clothes. I felt like a complete jackass. I should try and talk to her but I couldn’t. It was too tempting. I would want to stay and that was not an option. It was better if we put some distance between us. I had to take a giant step back and get my head straight.
I walked out of her bedroom to find her still nude and sipping coffee.
She wouldn’t look at me. I got it. I pissed her off. Went too far.
“Lock the door on your way out,” Sylvie said. She carried her coffee mug and headed back toward her bedroom, not looking at me again. The door slammed and that was that.
I stood there for a long moment after she disappeared, staring at the closed bedroom door and wondering how I managed to fuck everything up so spectacularly in the span of a single phone call.
But Hudson had been right. I had a job to do, and I’d let myself get distracted by a pretty face and small-town charm. Time to remember who I really was and what I was really here for.
Even if it meant walking away from the best night I’d had in years.
The cold air hit me like a slap in the face as I descended the stairs from Sylvie’s apartment, which was exactly what I needed to clear my head. My breath fogged in front of my face as I let out a long exhale. I pulled my coat tighter around myself, the frigid December morning doing nothing to improve my already foul mood.
I spotted Brom in the distance near the tree farm, and my pace immediately quickened. The last thing I needed was Sylvie’s protective big brother seeing me skulking away fromhis sister’s place at eight in the morning, looking like I’d been thoroughly worked over. Which, to be fair, I had been.
I kept my head down and moved fast, hoping to slip past unnoticed. Thankfully, Brom seemed absorbed in whatever he was doing with the Christmas decorations scattered around the area. I managed to make it to the lodge’s front entrance without him spotting me.
The moment I stepped inside, the smell of bacon and coffee hit me like a warm embrace. My stomach growled loudly, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten anything since the party last night. Families were milling about the living area, some standing in front of the fire while sipping coffee. Others had plates and were enjoying what smelled an awful lot like fresh cinnamon rolls.
Damn, I was fucking starving.
“Morning, honey!” an older woman’s voice called out from the kitchen. “Grab yourself a plate and dig in. There’s plenty.”
I assumed it was Sylvie’s mother, though I hadn’t been formally introduced yet. The casual warmth in her voice made something twist uncomfortably in my chest. Here was this woman, welcoming me into her family’s home, treating me like I belonged, when I was here to destroy everything she’d spent her life building.
I felt like a complete fraud, but my growling stomach overruled my guilt. I grabbed a plate from the stack she’d indicated and loaded it with bacon, scrambled eggs, and what looked like homemade biscuits. The food smelled incredible, nothing like the catered breakfasts I was used to back home.
“Thank you,” I called toward the kitchen, then practically fled upstairs to my room before anyone could engage me in conversation.
I couldn’t handle small talk right now. Not after Hudson’s call and definitely not after the way I’d just treated Sylvie.
