“You’re a teacher, though. I’d pay you generously.”
He names a figure that’s almost a year’s teaching salary.
When I don’t answer right away because I’m in shock at the bananas amount he just offered, he says, “I’ll double it.”
“No!” I’m appalled he’d think I’m making a play for more, when what he’s offered is more than I could ever imagine.
He frowns. “I get it. I just had to ask. For Belle’s sake.”
“No. I mean, no isn’t my answer. I just… I don’t need more money. Your first offer was incredible. But I’ve never done something like this.”
“You’ll do it?”
I look down and press my lips together. I’ve got a million things going on in the two months leading up to the holidays. Favors for family and friends I’ve promised, committees I’m organizing. I still need to figure out what to do in the new year for work. But this is Ronan. This strong and stoic man is asking me for a favor, when I can tell he doesn’t ask people for help very often. And I think of that little girl upstairs, someone who is desperate for a friend right now.
It isn’t my schedule that keeps me from shouting, “Yes!” And it’s certainly not the money. It’s the fear that living with Belle and Ronan could decimate my heart. I’d have to steel myself against their charm because it would be so easy to fall for them both, even more than I already have.
But they need me. And the one thing I can’t resist, my one instinct that I heed over everything—over self-protection, over caution, over being smart—is to help when needed. It’s my downfall and drug of choice.
And with his generous offer, I might be able to make my dream of an art studio come true. It could help finance my first year if I’m frugal. If I can get that mortgage. If I can gather the courage.
“I’ll do it,” I say.
This isn’t one of his movies. He doesn’t whip me into his arms and twirl me around. He doesn’t whoop and fist-pump the air. He doesn’t kiss me silly.
Instead, he gives me that wisp of a smile. It’s so slight and so subtle that I might have imagined it. But the here-then-gone brush of joy across his face makes my knees turn to jelly.
I’m in so much trouble.
CHAPTER10
70 DAYS TO CHRISTMAS
Poppy
I showup to the lake house at 8:00 a.m. the next morning with two suitcases in the car and carrying two coffees and a bag of cinnamon muffins.
Okay, it’s closer to 7:30 a.m. I arrive a little early in the hopes he’ll answer the door shirtless again.
I’m almost successful. He appears to be mid-workout. Sadly, he’s wearing a shirt, but—bright side—it’s a loose tank-top style that doesn’t hide his impressive physique. Sweat streams off big, glistening muscles. His hair is brushed back from his face in a ponytail.
There are benefits to being an early bird.
“Good morning! Isn’t it a beautiful day?” I thrust a coffee cup and the bag of muffins at him. “I got you a maple latte. It’s the coffee shop’s new flavor for fall. You can thank me later. And the muffins are fresh this morning from my favorite bakery. You’ve never had a cinnamon muffin until you’ve tasted this.”
He takes a sip, then winces.
“This isn’t coffee. This is dessert.” He holds it as if it’s a ticking time bomb.
“Don’t glare at me like I’m kicking puppies. You said you like sweets. I’m offering you a cup of autumnal goodness, one of life’s perfect pleasures. Only a monster wouldn’t love it.”
I’m tempting him on purpose. After hearing about his sad nutrition regimen, I’ve decided it’s my life’s goal to corrupt him. Seduce him to the dark side of sugar and carbs. I’d like to seduce him to other things as well, but we all have to start somewhere.
“Come on.” I smile, waving a muffin in front of his face. It’s gooey with cinnamon glaze. “You know you want a bite.”
Ronan’s eyes flare, and I’m caught in his burning polar gaze. My breath catches and heat pools low. In my panties.
“You gotta live a little, Mr. Strong and Silent,” I say, breathless now.
