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“I can’t decide if that’s honorable or sad.”
“Sad?” I asked.
She set the bread in a pan and it sizzled in the butter, immediately filling the room with a savory, cheesy smell. “I don’t know. Is it enough for you to just be good at it? I mean, what would you do if you could do anything in the world?”
I looked down, frowning. Nobody asked me questions like this. It was uncomfortable and exciting at the same time–like she actually cared about my answers. I felt obligated to give the question real thought, because I could tell my answer mattered to her. She was watching me with interest as she held a spatula in one hand and occasionally lifted the bread to check how done it was.
“I’m not sure, to be honest. I guess in another life it would’ve been nice to do what my grandfather did. Just run a small hotel all by itself. Meet the new people who come in after long trips and give them a cozy place to rest and recover. Maybe a bed and breakfast style place–something more intimate. With the work I do, I never stick around. They fly me in to fix the situation, and then I fly back out before I really see it with my own eyes. I get the earnings reports and the promotions for doing well, but it’s not quite the same as being part of it.”
I sat there a little stunned after I spoke. Until the words came out of me, I hadn’t even realized any of that was true, but as soon as I heard them, I knew they were. Worse, speaking my desire into the air felt like it gave it some sort of power. I could feel the small fire of a dream light up deep inside me, threatening to burn down everything I’d worked so hard to build.
Harper was smiling. “What’s stopping you from just doing it?”
“Money. The kids. Sanity.”
She scoffed and pulled the grilled cheese from the pan, then cut it into diagonal wedges. She pulled some homemade chips she had frying out of the oil and dusted them with some kind of seasoning blend, then plated them beside the sandwich. She pushed it to me with a proud smile. “Eat.”
“You’re bossy when that apron is on,” I noted.
She put a hand on her hip. “I’m bossy when I see people neglecting themselves. You can’t skip meals on me, Greyson. You need your energy if you’re going to do this the right way.”
I grinned and took a bite of the sandwich. The bread crunched perfectly against my teeth and gooey cheese spilled into my mouth. The bacon was a salty bite, and the avocado was smooth and fresh. It was easily the best grilled cheese I’d ever had, and I involuntarily sat back in my chair and groaned. “Fuck,” I said. “How is this so good?”
“You’re probably starving, for starters. And I’m an amazing chef on top of that.” She flashed a white-toothed smile and gave a little wiggle of her eyebrows.
I looked up at her and felt something stir inside me. Was I going to be able to keep this casual? How the hell was I supposed to keep myself from wanting more and more of her?
23
HARPER
I had a blast shopping with Greyson. He had a dry kind of humor that wasn’t obvious at first, but I was beginning to see some of his grumpiness was just an acquired taste. He hadn’t so much as touched me all day, and I wasn’t sure how to feel about it.
We needed to be able to control ourselves and act like professionals when we were working. So it was good that he seemed to know where to draw the line. But… I felt like I was about to explode. Every time our eyes met, sparks seemed to crackle between us. I’d caught him checking me out dozens of times, and each instance made my body light up with warm arousal. By the time we were done for the night, I felt like I was so primed for his touch that even a fingertip in the right place could’ve made me climax.
Greyson took the last box in from his car. We’d placed a few orders for larger items and loaded what we could manage to take on our own. Greyson hadn’t cared about the cost of anything. I knew he was trying to revive his grandfather’s business, but it seemed like he was dipping into his own pockets to fund this renovation, and he was sparing no expense. He’d told me to pick out the best of the best in every case, and he’d carelessly swiped his fancy black card to cover tens of thousands of dollars like it was nothing.
“Thank you,” I said.
“For what?”
“For letting me get all this fancy stuff. Our kitchen is going to be amazing. And I’m in love with those dining tables we picked out.”
