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Her smile slips. “What does that mean?”
“I was going to spend the next few weeks meeting every business owner, resident, and anyone else who has an opinion about Voss moving in. Instead, you gathered thirty of them in one room, introduced me, and wrote down exactly what I can do to win them over. Thanks for saving me the time.”
“I wasn’t trying to help you.”
“I know.” I close the notepad and slip it into my jacket. “That’s my favorite part.”
Her eyes narrow as she looks at my pocket, clearly considering taking the notepad back.
“This is exactly why we should work together. If you’d told me what you were planning, I could’ve warned you. Putting me in a room with thirty people I can help only makes them more likely to support my hotel.”
She stares at me as if I’ve lost my mind. Then a quick, disbelieving laugh slips out before she can stop it. She presses her lips together, but I heard it. The sound lands somewhere in the center of my chest. I finally made her laugh, even if she’s laughing at me. I like it far more than I should.
“It seems Voss-Hartwell relations are improving,” I say.
“By what measure?”
“You laughed.”
“I laughed because you’re ridiculous. I can’t believe anyone lets you run a company.”
“If you think I’m bad, you should see who they let run countries.”
Rachel shakes her head. Her gaze drops to my mouth and lingers. When she looks up again, something in her expression changes, as if she’s just realized I caught her.
Well. That’s interesting.
She may not like me, but she wants me.
“You keep looking at my mouth.”
Her chin lifts. “I was wondering whether you ever stop talking.”
“Come home with me, and I promise I’ll stop.” My gaze drifts to the wall behind her. “Then again, we may not need to go that far.”
When I look back at Rachel, her expression has gone flat.
“I’d rather give you the service lane.” She pauses. “For free.”
Then she turns and walks out before I can answer. I stare at the empty doorway and blink. That went considerably worse than expected. I can’t remember the last time a woman turned me down. Heat climbs the back of my neck, and my collar suddenly feels too tight.
Thank God my brothers aren’t here. I’d still be hearing about this at Christmas. In my defense, it was an exploratory suggestion. I wanted to see how she would respond. The fact that I would’ve happily followed through is beside the point.
I straighten my jacket. Less than a minute ago, Rachel was looking at my mouth. I wasn’t wrong about that. I was wrong about what she planned to do about it.
9
RACHEL
“Voss is taking over my whole life,” I tell Chloe as we walk along the shoreline on Saturday morning.
Her silver-and-tan Yorkie, Cynthia, trots ahead of us with a pale-pink bow holding the hair out of her eyes. She weighs six pounds and has spent most of the walk trying to attack seagulls.
“Eric,” Chloe corrects.
“What?”
“You mean Eric is taking over your life. You’ve been talking about him for twenty minutes.”
