I ponder this while I toss my things in my bag and strap on my Mary Janes.
An uncomfortable conclusion hits me as I take the elevator downstairs to the main floor.
Oliver Fletcher is a man of contradictions. He’s mad at the world yet he offered to share a car with me. He avoids conversation yet he asks me about myself. He’s rude, yet he apologizes. He’s beautiful and just as broken.
And I’ve made it my life’s mission to fix broken things.
Systems, people, you name it.
Oliver Fletcher is a gorgeous mess with so much potential, it almost aches to look at him. He’s the ultimate fixer-upper.
Which means we cannot get to Rochester fast enough.
Oliver is scowling at a little kid across the dining room when I get my plate of kolaches and fruit. Alarmed, I glance at the kid, who’s dragging his finger across his throat in a threatening gesture. My eyes fly back to Oliver, who sticks his tongue out and rolls his head back, like he’s dead.
Oh dear.
Now he’s being cute with children?
Something warm and dangerous takes root in my chest.
No. This is bad. This is very bad. He can’t be broken and beautiful and cute with kids. That’s not just a recipe for all my fix-it instincts to go into overdrive. That’s a recipe for acrush.
I sit down across the table from Oliver, and he snaps his head back up and his scowl returns.
Crush averted.
“I didn’t expect you down here so soon.”
“Good morning to you, too,” I say, laying my napkin across my lap. “And I told you I’d be ten minutes.”
“I didn’t believe you.”
“Belief is a matter of choice.” I spear a berry and pop it in my mouth. “What have I done that made you believe my word wouldn’t be good?”
He frowns at his plate. “Nothing.”
“Then next time, try believing me. It’s less angsty.”
“I’m not angsty.”
“Right, and this isn’t a raspberry.” I smile as I bite it so he knows I’m teasing.
His face doesn’t seem to care.
“I pulled up the route. We’re nineteen hours away, so how about I try driving today and we can switch off. See if we can make it the whole way.”
I’m highly skeptical, seeing as he had no way of fitting his knees around the steering wheel when he tried yesterday, but I nod. “Sure, let’s give it a try. It should be easy to find a hotel last minute if we need.”
He looks relieved. “Right. And if there’s only one room, we already established we can sleep together.”
I give a choked laugh. Heat floods my face even as his face goes beet-red.
“I know what you meant,” I say.
We finish breakfast in silence.
When it’s time to check out, I catch Oliver shooting the kid one last cross-eyed glance. He pulls his nose up and sticks out his tongue at Oliver.
