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“I made pancakes.”
She stared at him. “You did?”
He lifted a brow. “Surprised I can cook?”
“Surprised I have flour, actually.”
He grinned; her heart thumped. “I guess your housekeeper keeps you stocked.”
“Yes, that’s true.” But something pulled at her mind, a memory that flashed through her out of nowhere. “Is this your standard morning after routine?”
The question surprised him. Hurt him? She couldn’t place the dark emotion in his eyes. “What does that mean?”
“Oh, in Paris you said that sex with people you barely know is the only kind of sex you’re into. I presume that means one-
night stands.”
He turned away, using the egg flip to pull two perfect, fluffy pancakes from the oven and place them in the center of the plate. She didn’t like the way she’d gone from feeling euphorically satisfied to being another notch in his bedpost in the space of a few minutes.
“I don’t consider us strangers, Max.” He placed the pancakes down in front of her. “And as for a one-night stand; is that what you want?”
She hadn’t expected the question to be thrown back at her.
He used her silence to reach for the maple syrup, passing it down the bench.
“Thank you.” She dribbled a little over the top of the pancakes, but didn’t attempt to cut into them.
“I’m serious,” he said after a moment. “You have a lot of questions about me, but what about you?”
She waited for him to elaborate.
“You’re single. Why?”
“Oh.” She cut through both pancakes, lifting a wedge into her mouth as she considered that. “I’ve dated.”
“Sure. Short relationships, nothing serious, nothing long term. Why not?”
“You think there’s some fundamental problem with me or something?”
He frowned. “Did I say anything remotely like that?”
She shook her head. “Maybe I’m projecting my secret fears,” she smiled to make it seem like a joke. “The truth is, I grew up with a lot of money. A lot. I knew I was a billionaire before I started school. Pretty much every relationship in my life, besides with Gray, is kind of problematic.”
“Go on.”
She searched for words to explain what she meant. “It’s complicated. I’m worth a fortune. A fortune people – even wealthy people – find tantalizing, and want to get their hands on. I’ve never dated a guy without wondering if that’s not in the back of his mind. Then there’s my ‘influence’,” she lifted her fingers to either side of her head and did bunny rabbit ears, to show how derisive she was of that concept. “How many of my friends use our friendship to market their products or get their time in the spotlight?”
“Like your gin maker?”
“Well, yeah,” she sighed heavily. “I’m not saying that’s necessarily the case, but having that suspicion in the back of my mind makes it kind of hard to let go and trust. I –,”
But she cut herself off in time, before revealing something she never really shared with another soul. Only Noah had been so open with her, telling her about his sister and father, that she relented a little.
“My mother had a string of bad relationships, a couple of disastrous marriages. Both of which were hugely financially costly. I saw what people will do for money; I guess it’s impossible not to have that in the back of my mind as I go through life. I prefer to keep things light, as much as possible.”
“That’s understandable.”
“But you’re not like that,” she said quietly. “I don’t know why, but I just know you’d never take advantage of me. You’d never use me.”
