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My heart turned over at his admission. I didn’t know this specific chef version of Cash very well, but I knew the man had pride, always had, just like any man, and he obviously was seeing those little muffins as a personal affront. And still, he’d humbled himself and gone out of his way for me.
Damn the man again, getting under my skin.
“I’ll add check-in treats to the list of suggestions. As long as there’s someone else to bake them,” I said. I set the last couple bites of donut on my leg and typedcheck-in treatson the list on my phone. “Ari Patel mentioned room service and making better use of the kitchen space, and his wife suggested thick lounger cushions. Which is why I’m out here.” I gestured over my shoulder to the chairs on shore as I stuck the last of my donut in my mouth.
“I agree about the kitchen. A lot of places would kill to have a dedicated commercial kitchen space. Did Phyllis ever do anything besides bake pastries?”
I shook my head. “Most of the equipment is old but barely used.”
“We could come up with some ideas. Maybe start small, with breakfast and lunch. Something that could generate extra revenue and add value for your guests.”
That was hard to argue with, but the thought of becoming further entwined with Cash made me uneasy. I simply said, “Thanks. I appreciate the offer.”
He caught my hand, twined our fingers together. I met his gaze and knew instantly I shouldn’t have. His look was intense, searching. “I meant it, Ava.”
I looked away, managed to not pull my hand from his, and nodded.
“Hey,” he said. “I’m sensing a hesitancy in you. Like you’re shutting me out.” Still holding my hand, he used his other to brush my cheek with his knuckle.
I wanted to lean into it, andthatwas exactly the problem.
“You better not be having regrets,” he said. I could hear that he was smiling, lightening his words.
“Not regrets.” I’d be pulling out the memory of this morning later, when I was alone and missed him. When it was safe to spend time with it. “Cash, what are we doing?”
“Same thing we talked about last night.”
“Today in the cottage didn’t feel like the same thing.”
He laughed. “I hope it was even better.” In a flash, he went serious, self-conscious. “Was it not okay for you?”
That made me laugh. “It was okay.”
He turned more fully toward me. “Just okay?”
“Are you fishing for compliments? It was a hundred times better than okay, and you know it. That’s part of the problem.” I unlaced my fingers from his, bent over, dipped my hand in the refreshing water because I needed to cool down. “I know I started that. I’m just feeling…doubts. Like, what’s the point of getting closer if we have no future?”
I’d thought I could handle “just sex.” I’d literally dreamed of Cash all night long after those kisses last night. But then this morning had been intense. Physically, yes. Of course. That was the good part. But the stuff in my mind…
“My brain is confusing the past with the present,” I said. “Taking me back to when I thought we weren’t temporary.”
He didn’t reply, and when I dared a glance at him, he was staring straight ahead, toward a boat with a pretty blue and green sail in the distance.
“You don’t get that?” I pressed.
“I get it. Being with you is nothing like being with someone I barely know. You’re not a one-night stand, Ava. There’s a middle ground between a one-night fling and forever though.”
“Have you had a lot of one-night stands?” I couldn’t stop the question from coming out, even though I had a good guess at the answer and really didn’t want to hear it.
“Had enough of them,” he said. “Plus the supposed forever.”
“How about middle ground? Between a night and forever?”
Cash shook his head. “I’ve proven neither extreme works for me, though, so maybe the middle ground is worth a try.”
“What happened with your ex-wife?” I asked. I was dying to know, but I hated to admit it.
Cash shrugged. “She wanted more than I could give her. Never wanted to be stuck in a small town. Never wanted to be the wife of a chef who works late shifts.”
