“Since when?” She digs a fist into her cocked hip.
“Since Betty went into a care home and asked me to run the place.” I check to see if Lark is still sitting at the table, hoping she can offer a room at the inn. My eyes plead with her. Knowing Lark, she’s heard our conversation.
Her lip curls as she sips on her tea. “Sorry, but the inn is full. You won’t find any spare rooms this time of the year with spring break.”
“Great. Well, there’s no room here.” I wave my hand in the air, then pinch the bridge of my nose. I wanted her here, but I hadn’t expected her to just show up unannounced. I’m not prepared for this.
She digs her other fist into her side. “Oh my goodness, it’s like Bethlehem. Are you going to put me up in a stable?”
“Why, you’re not pregnant, are you?”
She gives me a death stare. “Do I look pregnant to you?” She glances down at her tight navy skirt hugging her belly. “Don’t answer that,” she warns. “It’s just a little holiday weight.”
I nod, holding back my smile. I always loved her curves. And she hasn’t lost her humour.
Lark continues to sip her tea with a smile hiding behind her china cup.
I scratch the back of my neck. “I guess you’ll have to stay here. There’s a couch.”
“Thank you.” She lets out a sigh and continues lugging her case through the back.
Damn, she’s even more feisty than I remember. Her ass sways in front of me, and I have the urge to squeeze it or swat it. Does she expect me to drop everything, give up my bed and wait on her? This ain’t no damn holiday resort.
Who does she think she is? Walking in here like she owns the place.
Technically, she does.
Yeah, but not for long. She wants me to buy her out. She wants to sell. Her great-aunt would turn in her grave if she knew. Even if I wanted to, I can’t buy her out. And up to now, it’s the only card I held to get her ass back here after ten years.
CAMI
Grayson takes my case from my hand, brushing against my fingers. A tingle shoots up my arm from one touch. He hasn’t changed. I haven’t changed. He’s still able to make my body react involuntarily.
“It’s just up the stairs and to the right.” He leads the way, carrying my suitcase with ease, although he isn’t as beefy as I remember.
I clear my throat. “Thank you.”
Once at the top of the stairs, Aunt Betty’s apartment looks the same as it did the last time I was here, perhaps a little messier. I lift a hoodie from the couch. An old pizza box rests on the cushion, along with a laptop and a pile of books on business management.
“Are you seriously going to make me sleep on this with all your crap lying around?”
He side eyes me, dropping my case in the living room with a thud, then gets to work on tidying the space. “Beggars can’t be choosers. If you’d let me know you were coming, I could’ve made some arrangements.”
“What about your parents? Can’t you just move in with them?”
“I’m a grown man. Would you move in with your parents?”
“No, but where did you live before, if not your parents?”
“I gave my rental up a few months back when I moved in here. I was fixing up the place. Usually, I don’t live like this.”
I search the room for signs of decorating, then spot a tin of paint in the corner next to a pile of boxes. “Oh.”
“Look, if you’re that bothered, you can take the bedroom. I’ll sleep on the couch until I can sort out the spare room.”
“There’s a spare room?”
He scratches his head, ruffling his short, dark hair. “Not exactly.” Taking a few steps out of the living space, he opens a door to reveal something resembling the TV show Storage Hunters.
