Hazel shifted restlessly from one foot to the other, the heels of her shoes sinking deeper into the sand. She knew better than to accept every stupid challenge just out of spite! But Gareth had said no…and everything inside her had rebelled against the idea of him getting his way.
That might not have been particularly mature or adult, but it was the truth.
Gareth was acting strangely. Sure, he always seemed a little stiff, like Pinocchio in the freezer, but for the last ten minutes, he’d been a complete tin man. He hadn’t opened his mouth andhad categorically avoided all of her glances. And what the hell was with that lame excuse?
The whole world might say Gareth Clark was a cold-blooded businessman, but around her, he’d always acted rather…hot-tempered. No. Irascible! That was the word she’d been searching for. He was irascible when she…
Oh, it didn’t matter.
She stepped aside so none of his…heat would rub off on her before she glanced at the newlyweds, who were already swaying on the dance floor to Ed Sheeran’s vocals, and noticed that Maddie was no longer wearing shoes.
Yeah, that wasn’t a bad idea.
“Hold my glass for a minute?” she murmured, handing Gareth her champagne.
He raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
Yep, she knew Gareth. “So I can take off my shoes. High heels and sand don’t mix.”
“Mm hm,” he said, tilting his head. “Holding your glass would be quite a favor by our standards.”
She rolled her eyes. Why did he always have to make things difficult for her? And why did it almost make her feel relieved that he wasn’t being friendly anymore? “Just hold my damn glass, Clark. Then…I’ll owe you a favor just as big.”
She forced her champagne into his dangling hand and bent down to loosen her shoe straps. Then she stepped out of the stilettos and straightened up.
She’d repressed the reason why she always wore heels when she was around Gareth. She wasn’t short, but shit, he was tall.
Slowly, she looked up at him, and her stomach lurched. She’d forgotten how much space he took up, not just with his words, his ego, and his overall presence, but with his shoulders and his sheer size. Whenever they met, she wore high heels to boost her confidence. But now, he towered over her by a head and a half,staring down at her with a far too intense gaze. It was as if he were trying to analyze her.
“What?” she asked tensely.
“Why the hell did you say yes to dancing?”
“Why didyousay yes?”
“I had no choice, but you…”
“You had no choice?” Her eyebrows shot up. “Why did you have no choice?”
Gareth sighed, her champagne glass squeaking between his fingers. “My sister isn’t happy about what I said to you on the phone yesterday,” he informed her in a low tone. “Any idea how she even knows we spoke yesterday?”
“Not a clue,” she replied, unperturbed. “Maybe from her fortune teller.”
“I didn’t realize you had a side-hustle as a fortune teller. The sports agent business isn't going well?”
“Oh, it would be selfish to use my superhuman abilities just for myself.”
He snorted. “Ratting me out to Penny was a low blow, even for you, Hazel.”
She shrugged. In war, anything was fair game. “You were an ass, Gareth.”
“Unlike you, whose shit doesn't smell?”
“Thanks. That’s a lovely compliment. Personally, I consider myself a rose.”
“You’re just the thorny stem, Hazel.”
“Better than a dead cactus someone accidentally put in the freezer.”
