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He gave her a stern look and held his arm out. “Come here. We need to talk about that.”
She went and sat beside him, wondering what they needed to talk about.
He slid his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him. “See, I think we have a problem.”
She looked up at him uncertainly.
“At least, a misunderstanding.”
“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”
“Do you really believe that I got what I came for? That that’s all I want?”
She shrugged. Part of her kind of knew it wasn’t, but she didn’t want to admit it. She didn’t know where that conversation could go.
“I think you know that’s not true, don’t you?”
She shrugged. “It’d be simpler if it were true, wouldn’t it?”
He smiled. “Yeah, it would. But I don’t need simple. Do you?”
She shook her head. “I suppose not.”
“I won’t deny I wanted you, I wanted this again, but I want more than that, Chelsea. Like I told you earlier, I’d like to take you out, go for dinner, hang out, do stuff together. Date.”
She nodded. She couldn’t keep the silly little smile off her face. “I’d like that, too, but what happens with work?”
“That’s up to you. I can bow out. Tell your dad that I’m not comfortable being paid for a job that we all know won’t amount to anything.”
She sighed. “But I like you being at Zosca.” She looked up at him, surprised to hear those words come out of her own mouth.
“Even though I give you a hard time?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I know a lot of what you’re saying makes sense. I know I’ll use at least some of it going forward.”
“So, you want me to stay?”
“I think I do.”
“Okay. I’ll stay then, but maybe I should talk to your dad anyway. I don’t feel right taking his money.”
Chelsea smiled. “See, you’re more like me than you want to admit.”
He gave her a puzzled look.
“If it were all about the money, you wouldn’t care.”
“No, it’s just that, well, it’s the principle of the thing, I …”
“Exactly. Principles are more important than profits, right?”
He pursed his lips, but they both knew she was right.
Chapter Fifteen
Grant tensed when he heard a car approaching the cottage. He’d stayed here last night with Chelsea—and what a night it’d been. They’d made love on the sofa again, in the moonlight, and then later in bed—and then again, this morning in the shower. It seemed his desire for her just couldn’t be satisfied.
Now it was almost ten. They’d decided they were going to spend the day together. Go for a drive in the hills. She was in the bathroom getting ready, but now someone was here to see her. And, whoever they were, they no doubt weren’t expecting to see him. He had a crazy urge to go hide in the spare room, but he made himself sit still. “Someone’s here, Chelsea,” he called, grateful that his voice didn’t give away his nervousness.
