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She snatches the bag from me and rips it open before sticking her nose in the bag. “These are still warm.”
She stuffs half of a cookie into her mouth and moans. My blood nearly boils over at the sound. I want to hear her make the same sound while I’m devouring her lips.
When she notices me staring at her, she asks, “What? I missed breakfast and it’s nearly noon.”
I wipe visions of tasting her plush lips from my mind. “Enjoy.”
“Did you need anything else? Is there a problem with your room?” she asks when I don’t move away.
“The room is lovely.” I should have told her that yesterday, but instead, I spouted all kinds of bull crap from my mouth and gave her the impression of being a privileged ass. “I thought I’d ask you out to dinner for a proper apology.”
The panic on her face at my question has me back pedaling. “It’s not a date. It’s an apology dinner. I don’t mean to step on any toes if you’re dating someone.” I check her ring finger. It’s bare. “Or if you’re married.”
“I’m not married or dating anyone, but I prefer to keep my business to myself. A nearly impossible task in a town where gossiping is considered an esteemed hobby.”
“I think I understand.”
She barks out a laugh. “I forgot you met the royalty of Winter Falls today.”
Royalty? Will those old biddies be the ones to decide whether or not Davis Williams acquires the contract to build the community center? I hope not. I don’t want to think about what kinds of questions they’d ask me. I don’t think any of their questions would concern the sustainability of the community center.
“Why don’t I cook dinner for you instead?” she offers.
A picture of her stirring a pot at the stove in nothing but an apron showcasing her heart-shaped ass and curvy hips flashes into my mind. I want nothing more than to have her cook me dinner. I clear my throat before offering a token protest. “I don’t want to put you out.”
She waves away my concern. “It’s fine. I enjoy cooking. It’s relaxing.”
“If you’re sure …”
“I’m more than sure. I live in the old carriage house out back. How does seven sound?”
“Sounds great.”
The phone rings and she gives me an apologetic look. “Sorry, I need to …”
“I’ll see you at seven,” I say before wandering off to let her get back to work.
Despite the appeal of the community center project, I wasn’t excited about the prospect of staying in Winter Falls for two weeks. Small towns are boring. But things are looking up.
