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“Sounds interesting, but you know all work and no play makes Noah a dull boy, right? Although ‘dull’ is not a word I would use to describe you.” Elli chuckles then blushes as if realizing her mouth has run away with her again.
I tip my head to the side, narrowing my eyes on her. “What word would you use?”
She purses her lips thoughtfully. “Are you fishing for compliments?”
I lift my eyes to hers. “From you? Always.”
Elli’s blush deepens, but she answers my question anyway. “Cocky.”
I burst out laughing. “I think you kicked the cocky out of me with your big toe.”
Elli groans and presses her hands to her cheeks. “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”
“It’s got mileage in it yet.” I smirk.
She shakes her head, but her eyes twinkle with laughter.
“So, what are your recommendations for things to do around here, seeing as I have two weeks of vacation?” I was given this information at the front desk when I checked in, but I’m looking for ways to keep Elli talking.
“Well, you can take out a rowboat on the lake or do some paddle boarding or canoeing. There’s mountain biking, hiking, dance, and archery lessons, not at the same time, obviously because that would be weird and dangerous.” Elli snorts but continues undaunted. “If you don’t mind a short journey, there’s golf, horseback riding, and ziplining nearby.” She reels it all off as if she’s recited it a thousand times.
“And what about you? Do you have a favorite?”
She frowns. “Hard to have a favorite when I haven’t done any of them.”
My eyebrows rise in surprise. “Why? You work here. Surely you get the opportunity to make use of the facilities.”
Elli shrugs carelessly. “I start work at five and finish at noon. Then I go home and cook and clean for my family. Sometimes I come back to work if they’re short-staffed in the restaurant or need cover in the bar, after which I’m ready to fall into bed.”
Something about the way she says “family” catches my attention. “Your family can’t cook and clean for themselves?”
Elli sighs and her mouth twists wryly. “Now that is a long story which I wouldn’t dream of offloading on you after your long journey and considering I barely know you and you’re a guest and I’m just the maid.”
This woman intrigues me. Now she’s calmed down a little, I see the sadness peeking through the cracks of the happy persona she projects.
I take a step closer, lifting a hand to cup her cheek. “You’re not just anything, sweetheart. You’re beautiful and bubbly and goddamn lethal when you’re dancing.”
The smile I’m expecting doesn’t come. Instead, her eyes widen with surprise. “You called me ‘sweetheart’ and ‘beautiful.’”
“You make it sound like no one’s ever done that.”
“They haven’t.”
“Called you ‘sweetheart,’ or told you you’re beautiful?”
“Both,” she whispers.
Huh. That doesn’t compute. “Have you been living under a rock?”
She barks a laugh. “Kind of.”
“Why don’t you offload on me over dinner?” The offer is out of my mouth before my brain can catch up.
She looks at me blankly. “Offload what?”
“The long story about why your family can’t cook and clean for themselves.”
“Oh. That. You want to have dinner. With me.” She points at her chest as if checking.
