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“Good. So what do you want to do while you’re hiding out?”
“Honestly? I want to do the normal things I never have time to do—build a bookshelf, watch hummingbirds flock to a feeder for an hour, hike in the middle of the day, take a nap. You know, normal things. I’m open to ideas.”
“I can help you there. I can absolutely help you.”
“If that’s an offer to do normal things with me, I accept.”
I’m on precarious ground, and I know it. I shouldn’t be asking to spend more time with her, but I can’t help it. And fuck it if I haven’t gotten pretty far in my life by doing the opposite of what people tell me to do.
“Great. When?”
“Saturday’s my day off.”
“Saturday. Looking forward to it.”
I toast my first Saturday off in ten years with cheese on a cracker. And sneak another look at the woman I already like more than I should.
Chapter
Nine
PJ
What Archer doesn’t know won’t hurt him, which is why I didn’t bother to tell him about my offer to spend Saturday with his best friend doing “normal things.” Once I figure out what those things are.
As the evening light streams through my kitchen window and I stare at how the sun seems to warm every leaf on the grapevines, I wonder if walking through miles of vineyards qualifies as “normal.” When Colin said he hasn’t taken a day off in ten years, I had a hard time wrapping my brain around it.
It means he’s been working around the clock since I was sixteen years old. And that makes our age gap feel like a chasm.
It also gives me a little perspective and takes my raging libido down a few notches. I’m not the sexy, brainy woman Colin Hathaway has been waiting for all his life. I’m his friend’s younger sister and temporary neighbor. End of story.
The fact that I haven’t seen him in two days since he helped build my bookshelves tells me he hasn’t thought about me nearly as much as I’ve thought about him. Or he’d find reasons to runinto me. He does have entire days to figure out how to do that, after all, and he’s been MIA.
I’ve heard him leave the cottage at dawn for the past two days, presumably to go hiking, but that’s about it. I need to come up with a couple of activities for Saturday and get over thinking he’s interested in me as anything more than a tour guide.
That’s my prevailing thought as I stir a pan of lemon butter sauce in my kitchen. A few minutes later, there is a knock on my door, and I open it to find Colin standing there like he has a homing device for sauce. “What? Is? That?”
At first, I’m not sure what he’s referring to, but after he inhales a long breath through his nose, I realize the browned garlic must have wafted over.
“Oh. Barefoot Contessa.”
“Sorry?”
“I’m using her recipe. It’s a good one.”
He leans forward to inhale another whiff. “Smells amazing.”
“It’s a big recipe. You want to join me?” I expect him to say no. He’s probably eating with Archer. “Or do you have a low-key meal of instant ramen noodles all teed up?” Hard to tell. He’s a mystery to me, but I’d be lying if I pretended I haven’t had my eyes peeled, trying to observe him for the past couple of days.
I’ve never met anyone like him. Interesting that he likes to duck the limelight and the fancy trappings of his world. A reluctant billionaire. Nope, never met one.
He offers me one of his rare smiles. “I’d love to, if it’s no imposition.”
Standing there in a dark green apron with a wooden spoon in my hand, I can’t help but laugh. “It’s already made. I can’t see a way you could be imposing.”
His expression goes serious. “If you’re expecting a guest, I suppose.”
“I’m not.”
