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“If you don’t want to spend the morning on your knees in one of the suites, little girl, then don’t fight fire with fire.”
I batted my lashes at him. “Sounds like a promise.”
“One your pussy can’t keep. What have I told you about teasing me?” he growled, and my eyes widened—he wouldn’t do that again. Would he?
Jesus Christ, who was I kidding?
He would.
He’d torment me with ease.
When my cheeks burned, he released a low chuckle and the paper flexed as he returned to whatever had him so engrossed. Of course, now that he’d said that, my brain darted from left to right and wouldn’t allow me to focus on my book at all.
By the time we’d paid the check, I was almost wishing hewouldtake me to a suite. I’d never stayed in a five-star hotel like this, and it would definitely be a treat. Even if the rooms were as fancy as my own home, it would still be cool.
The car appeared like magic, and I wondered how often Finn ate here for them to know when to bring the car around.
“Did you come here a lot before?”
He shot a look at me as he drove through the traffic. It was Sunday, early too, so it was less manic but still busy. “Before we were married? Yeah. I’ll still eat here a lot for business though.”
That had me humming under my breath. Finn’s business appeared to hover on the brink of legitimacy as far as I could see. I knew he had an office, I just didn’t know where it was.
Thinking that was bizarre since I was his wife, and a wife should know where her damn husband worked, I asked him, and he told me with an ease that made me wonder why I’d figured it would be a state secret.
When we made it back to my old neighborhood, I realized I’d spent half the journey turned toward him because it came as a shock to pull up outside the old salon I was intending on turning into a bakery. As that was on my side of the street and I’d been peppering him with questions, I just didn’t notice until we stopped.
“What are we doing here?”
He shrugged. “Thought you’d be chomping at the bit to get this place ready.”
When he put it like that…
Of course, he had to surprise me. He had the keys in his left hand, my fingers in his right as we walked toward the salon.
It had a wide shopfront, with large windows that made the place bright and airy, and I could easily envisage a few tables here and there for the people who didn’t want to eat breakfast on the go, even if I wanted them to be my principal market.
When he opened the door and we stepped inside, he handed me the keys. “Yours to do with as you will,” he murmured, and I released a squeak and rushed at him. He laughed and hugged me tight, dropping a kiss on the curve of my neck before he let me go.
As I stared around, I realized he’d had most of the stuff from the tea room brought here too. A lot of the baking equipment would be used, but I intended on selling the ultra-feminine tables and chairs, as well as the paintings and other tchotchkes Mom had filled the tea room with.
I was more of a minimalist kind of girl, whereas she was maximalist.
“What are you going to do here?” he asked, leaning back against the wall to watch me as I plotted and planned in my head.
I’d drawn sketches of how I wanted the place to be, but seeing it in the flesh brought them all to life.
“Principally breakfast. Which fits considering you get up really early,” I told him absently.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Well, you’re always up at three, aren’t you? And I know you only stay in bed sometimes for me. So, when you go to work, you can drop me off here.”
He blinked. “You’d be okay with that?”
I had no intention of opening a business and never seeing my husband—I’d work around his hours because he had a shit ton more responsibility than me, and ya know, a customer wasn’t going to blow my head off if I didn’t serve scones one morning whereas his head was on the line every goddamn day.
Not that I needed to think that way.
