Turning to me, Hadley grins. “I wish, right?”
“You know what else would be nice?” Heath asks. “Having a giant put you in the bath and do all the work for you.”
Hadley and I wrinkle our noses at the idea, and Heath shakes his head. “On second thought, maybe not. What happened between you and his nibs?”
Hadley gives me an apologetic look. “I hope you don’t mind, but I brought Heath up-to-speed on how much we hate Theo Rojas.”
My gut tightens at the word “hate,” but I smile. “Typical rich guy who gets whatever he wants when he wants it.”
“Nightmare,” Heath says. “Did he try anything when you were out there?”
“Heath’s all ready to ‘go have a talk with him, man-to-man’ if needed,” Hadley says, pointing to a white and lime green bath. “That one.”
Heath points a price gun at it and pushes the trigger. “Good choice. Added to the registry.”
“Nothing happened. He was a perfect gentleman,” I tell them before commencing with the long, not-at-all sordid details of our time at Eden. The story is broken up by various baby-related item decisions, but by the time Heath has handed the gun over to the saleslady, and we’re walking out into the warm night air, they’ve both been fully filled in.
“Gelato?” Hadley asks.
Deciding that I’ve easily burned off one scoop today, between hiking down the mountain and all the running around I had to do at the resort, I nod. “Let’s do it.”
We stroll the boardwalk until we reach Gina’s Gelato and place our order. Hadley and I go for Nutella, and Heath orders rum raisin. With our ice creams in hand, we find a bistro table and sit.
“Rum raisin?” Hadley asks him. “You know we’re going to have to tease you mercilessly for that, right?”
“I do, but I don’t care. I’m a rum raisin guy through and through.” He dips his spoon into the cup and scoops. “It’s probably because I was raised by an older mum.”
“You can’t blame Minerva for your bad taste,” I tell him with a grin before enjoying the first melt-on-my-tongue bit of creamy hazelnut and chocolatey goodness. “Mm, that is… I forgot how good ice cream was.”
“Ours, anyway,” Hadley says, giving Heath’s treat the side eye. After we laugh at him some more, she gives me a serious look. “I couldn’t help but notice that when you were talking about your night of being stranded with Theo, you didn’t sound nearly as distraught as I thought you would.”
My cheeks burn, and I turn my attention to the gelato. “There wasn’t any need to be distraught. We had shelter and food to eat.”
“It sounds like you had quite a lot of fun,” Heath says, his mouth full.
“I wouldn’t call itfun,” I answer. “It wasn’t awful, if that’s what you mean, and I did enjoy beating him at poker.” When neither of them says anything, I continue. “He did say something rather sweet. He said that knowing me was making him a better man.”
Hadley’s eyes grow wide. “He said that?”
“Mm-hmm. It was right after I told him why I can’t stand rich people.”
“You told him that?” Heath asks, his jaw dropping.
“He asked so I told him the truth,” I say, my mind taking me back to that moment in the kitchen when both of us were in our robes in the candlelight. “After I explained my experience with the upper class has been generally as a servant, something sort of shifted for him.”And for me. “That’s when he told me that thing about being a better man.”
“Huh, that’s either very sweet or the best pickup line ever,” she says.
“If it was a pickup line, he certainly didn’t follow up to see if it worked.” My heart feels all floppy and happy at the thought that he might actually be sweet. Then I remember he’s not interested in me. “But he probably had some ulterior motive.”
“Maybe not,” Heath says. “Maybe he meant what he said. Generally speaking, if a man is in that kind of situation, and he’s giving a woman a line meant to get her in bed, he’d try to get her in bed.”
“But he can’t act on his feelings,” Hadley tells him. “Not after making a big show of telling everyone else they can’t fraternize.”
Shaking my head, I say, “I’m sure he doesn’t have any feelings for me. He thinks I’m dowdy, remember?”
“But he only said that to get his brother off his back,” Hadley says. “He didn’t really mean it.”
“If the thought popped into his head, he must have meant it,” I tell her, doing my best to send that same message to my mixed-up heart.
