Page 57 of Just the Pool Boy at Vampire Mansion

“Let’s call it a night,” he said.

Damn. I’d ruined it. I’d forced a kiss on him, he’d known it, and now we were done. It was over. Not that we were anything anyway. But I’d been having a great night, up until that. And the worst part of it was, the kiss had been amazing. It still burned in me, and probably would for days.

Add to that the fact he thought I’d called him a thing, and yeah . . . it was not looking good for me. Owen Marsh, king of ruining perfectly amazing evenings.

“Sorry,” I croaked out.

Theo smiled, but it was his fake look-over-here smile he used to distract from anything important. “C’mon, Freckles.”

We left the rooftop bar, and in the car, on the way back to my place, Theo stayed quiet. He stared out the window at the city scrolling by, weirdly quiet.

The driver dropped me off, I told Theo I’d had a great night, and he said all the right things back, even offering to do it again. But it sounded flat, and as he pulled out of the lot, I figured there probably wouldn’t be another date.

I’d ruined an amazing night out by using him, and I had no idea how to fix it.

CHAPTER 14

I had a few other clients to service during the next few days, which gave me something else to think about other than how I’d ruined the best night I’d had out in years, and maybe a chance at a real friendship too. Davis’s henchman didn’t show up again either. So, for a little while, life was mostly normal.

Until I was scheduled to visit the Witherbornes for a quick check-in to see how the pool was behaving.

I’d hoped a visit later in the day would mean I’d avoid the family. I’d been wrong. Theo’s mother stood on the patio, under the sunshade. She wore a tightly fitted skirt suit, and scowled as though she was about to ruin someone’s day or life.

“Morning, Mrs. Witherborne.” I nodded a brief acknowledgement and continued to the back of the pool house to collect my equipment. The TV was on inside, so I figured Fleur was in there. I’d check in on her soon.

Hopefully, when I returned, Mrs. Witherborne would have gone inside?

But no. There she was, standing by the loungers, arms folded, blonde hair cascading over her shoulders in firm waves, not a strand out of place. It was unnerving, being watched by someone who’d been around when the settlers had formed America. Someone who’d killed their own son and decided not to bring him back. Okay, that son had been Bentley, so I could empathize with her somewhat, but still. A son was a son, right?

“How is my pool?” she asked after I had the filter pit cover off and was elbows deep, running the first batch of initial tests.

“It’s behaving, for now.” I squinted across the glistening water, keeping bright daylight between us.

“And how is the pool next door?”

“I’m due back there tomorrow,” I replied, staying vague.

“That’s not what I asked.”

I’d known that but I also didn’t want to give too much away about what I was doing, working both pools. “Well, I don’t talk about other people’s pools, ma’am.”

“Annoyingly nice, aren’t you.”

“I call it being professional.”

“Sassy too.”

“I’m not trying to be, ma’am. Just sounds like that sometimes.”

“Hm . . .” She fell quiet for a few moments, then said, “I hope you’re not spilling our family secrets to the neighbors?”

“Like I said, I’m a professional.”

“I see why he likes you.”

I assumed she wasn’t talking about Bentley.

“Easy on the eye, outdoor skin.” She tilted her head and roamed her gaze over me. “I suppose you’re deliciously warm to touch too.”