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This is soawkward.
“Welcome toAurora Inn,” he says in between sips of coffee. “Are you enjoying your stay?”
You obviously don’t care, I want to say.Since you’re looking at me like I’m scum on your shoe.
“It’s wonderful,” I admit begrudgingly. It’s not like he deserves to know how much this place already means to me.
“Eyes up here, Harper.”
I snap my head up, my mouth falling open in shock. “Excuse me?”
What thefuck? Who talks to someone like that?
And I haven’t even introduced myself to him. How does he know my name?
“Do you not know how to have a conversation?” he continues, taking another sip, one brow arched.
I sputter for a moment, incensed at his attitude. But then Charlotte arrives, wheeling in a small cart. My attention turns to her, but I can still feel his eyes on me.
“Alright, Harper,” she says, and my mouth waters as she places a plate in front of me. “Eggs benedict, on an English muffin. There’s also wheat toast with local honey and jam.”
She sets a carafe in front of us, pouring me a cup of hot coffee into a delicate teacup that matches the plate in front of me.
It’s lovely and decadent.
I temporarily forget about the asshole sitting across from me until Charlotte turns to him. “Nothing for you, Grey?”
Grey.
So, the one that smiled at me must be Beau.
His eyes are just as cold when he turns to Charlotte and I feel a brief sense of relief. So he’s not just like that with me.
“No, Charlotte. Thank you.”
The silence is long and uncomfortable between us as the two of them share a look.
“Thank you,” I say, desperate to relieve the tension. “Eggs benedict is my absolute favorite.”
Charlotte beams at me while Grey scoffs.
What the hell is his problem?
“I’m glad, Harper. Chef will be happy to hear that.”
I refuse to look at Grey as she wheels the cart away, instead focusing on my food.
And yet his eyes arestillstaring at me through each heavenly bite.
Finally, in between swallows, I wipe my mouth with the cloth napkin and meet his gaze.
“You’re not eating,” I say, breaking the silence.
He motions to his cup of coffee, deliberately taking another sip. “I don’t have to eat to sit at my dining table.”
His voice is rough and low. In any other circumstance, it would be sexy.
But something feels off about him, just like James.
