“Don’t apologize.” He frowned, and shook his head. Weird. He felt like he’d said exactly those words to her at some point recently. “Do you want to maybe eat dinner outside? There’s a—” No, the fire pit would be too romantic. What was the least sexy place they could eat? “Stable.”
She faced him, another book clasped to her chest. “You want to eat dinner in the stables?”
Fuck. “Uh. Sure.”
Her lips curled up. “I think I’ll spend the evening reading in my room, if you don’t mind. I have a headache.”
“Sure. I’ll...” He held up his tablet. “I have some work to do.” He’d lose himself in drawing all sorts of tiny, intricate designs. Ones that had nothing to do with her.
She came abreast of him, and he couldn’t stop himself from grasping her arm. She stopped and looked up at him.
There was no interest or lust or sadness in her eyes. There was nothing. She was locked down, the perfect heiress. It was a mask, and he couldn’t help but be intrigued by all the things swirling under it. “You’re okay, Eve.”
For a second, the mask slipped, and he saw confusion and yearning, but then it was gone. She nodded and slipped away, and he was left curling his hand into a fist.
Chapter 10
Eve stared out her window. She was glad she’d wound up with Gabe’s room. It gave her a perfect view of the lake.
And Gabe, who had been slicing through the water for the past twenty minutes, the sun glistening on the water and his body.
She shoved the rest of the croissant in her mouth, barely savoring the taste of butter and blackberry jam.
Sneak.
Yes, she was a sneak. Growing up trying to fly under the radar meant that no one ever noticed her. Like when they were talking about business.
Or personal stuff.
I like Eve. She’s a good person. Fun. Sweet.
She chugged her orange juice, unable to take her gaze off Gabe’s flat stomach as he rose from the water like some kind of Poseidon.
She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop yesterday. She’d only gone to the deck to tell Gabe she was fine and apologize for her tears. But then she’d heard her name through the flimsy doors.
He liked her. She knew she wasn’t supposed to care what he thought of her, that she wasn’t supposed to have her self-worth validated by someone else, but she’d been thrilled he liked her, even after her scene. She hadn’t had time to relish that before he’d spoken again, though.
Getting involved with a Chandler would be messy.
Involved, like not platonically? She’d processed that sentence with the thrill it deserved. And then he’d utterly confused her.
Robert makes everything messy.
What did Robert have to do with Gabe?
She’d been so confused she’d instinctually run away instead of facing him. There was something niggling at the back of her mind, and she couldn’t quite figure out what. It was like she was looking at a puzzle, and all the pieces were far too spread apart and disconnected, but the finished picture was right there. She’d turned over a couple of hypotheses in her head, but they were too absurd and far-fetched to be true.
She chewed her lip, watching him. Making a split-second decision, she threw on her swimsuit and cover-up, grabbed a towel and some sunscreen, and made her way downstairs.
Even if she couldn’t solve this mystery, she could at least savor his company, knowing he still liked her. Also, she could stare at his butt. Clothed or not, it was a work of art.
By the time she reached him, he was working on his ever-present tablet in a deck chair on the bank of the lake. His hair was wet and down for once, trickles of water falling down his chest. He looked up with some surprise when she approached, then smiled.
“Eve. There you are.”
“Hi.” She dropped her towel and sunscreen on the chair next to him. Normally she’d be self-conscious about her brief swimsuit, but he’d already seen her in her bikini. Besides, he liked her.
Maybe that was why she couldn’t figure out the puzzle, when she normally was so good at critical thinking. She was too distracted by the fact that he liked her.
