Page 14 of Falling for the Grumpy Bad Boy

Oh no.

Shit, shit, shit.

My panties were suddenly damp.

I was so embarrassed.

“You’ll be on the tour?” he asked. His voice was husky. Heavy. Sinful.

I swallowed. “Yes, sir.”

He arched a brow. “Sir?”

“I just—I mean—I was trying to be polite and respect my—” I stammered, eyes darting to my dad like, save me.

My father chortled.

We all knew I was going to say elder. I was about to call the hottest man that graced this big earth an elder.

“How old do you think I am?” Rhett asked.

“I didn’t—I wasn’t—” I wanted to die. “Not old. I mean. I, uh, sorry.”

He didn’t look like he accepted my apology.

“I should go help Hwan in the kitchen,” I blurted out.

I turned and practically ran. I didn’t stop until I hit the corridor near the service entrance, hands braced on my knees, breath coming in short, humiliated bursts.

Behind me, I could hear my dad laughing as he explained. “She’s got a clever head on her shoulders, that girl. Heart made for the kitchen, just like her old man.”

Great first impression, Clem. Just spectacular.