“Not even a little,” I agreed. “Though sheisa big softie when it comes to her dogs.”
“I’ll meet you at your place and get the rest of the story. Shrimp pad Thai, as usual?”
“Yes, please. And if you get a chance, some Ben and Jerry’s would be amazing.”
“Done. See you in a bit.”
We disconnected the call and I went back to shopping. Perhaps I needed a half dozen bottles?
I was so focused on the pretty labels — my criteria for deciding if the wine inside was any good — that I didn’t notice the person walkingbehind me until I backed up and we collided, nearly making me drop my bounty.
“Excuseme,” I complained. “Could you watch?—”
I froze when I saw who’d just bumped into me, for the second time today.
The Puppy Hater himself.
“And here I thought my day couldn’t get any worse,” he sighed. “You again.”
How was it possible that someone with a perma-scowl could also be so freaking hot? He was tall enough that people probably constantly asked him if he played basketball, but that face of his was one hundred percent model.
The cheekbones, the jawline … I’d forced myself to ignore his looks when he was freaking out about the dogs, but now in my weakened state at the end of a long day, I couldn’t ignore them. Especially those freaking dimples beside his mouth.
I’d only gotten a quick glimpse of them because the man didn’t seem capable of really smiling, but damn it, they completely shifted his perfect face into something more, I don’t know, more endearing?
Still. He was a dick.
“You could at least apologize.Youran into me.”
“You backed up and we collided,” he replied. “It was mutual.”
“Can’t even muster up a halfhearted ‘sorry’,” I said with a nod. “That tracks.”
“Please,” he glowered. “You know nothing about me.”
“Exactly,” I fired back at him. “And I intend to keep it that way. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to drown my sorrows. Rough day.”
“Yeah,” he exhaled hard. “I feel that.”
The way he raised an eyebrow suggested thatIwas to blame for everything that had exploded between us.
“What the hell do you mean by?—"
“Hey, hey, what’s going on here?”
I turned to find Ethan Mercer walking towards us, a welcomed sight given the grump I was currently dealing with.
“Emilia? Well, hi, what a nice surprise!” Ethan said. “You two have met, I see.”
It made sense that Mr. Cruella Deville knew Ethan seeing as they both worked at the resort. Ethan was the GM, and I’d done a couple of weddings with him as my main point of contact. I liked him. He knew his stuff, and he was always fair.
I felt my mouth twist into a frown. “I only know this guy by reputation.”
Ethan laughed. “Ah, poor you. Trust me, there’s more to Drew than his good looks.”
Mr. Grump—excuse me, Mr.DrewGrump—turned to scowl at his colleague.
“You know this person?”
