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She continued to giggle, pressing her face against his chest as he drew her close to him. “Nope. Totally accurate.”
“That’s what I thought.” He ran his hand up and down her back and she let out a loud yawn.
“Sorry.”
“No need to be sorry. It’s time to go to sleep for me, darling girl.”
18
Gwen frowned down at her laptop. She’d spent most of the day trying to research David Davidson. Reuben had hired someone to do some research into him, but they hadn’t found a lot.
He’d never owned a restaurant before, which was super weird to just open one out of the blue. In a town which he didn’t live in. He had to travel about an hour each way to get here.
And how was his restaurant even making money when it was only open four nights a week?
So. Bizarre.
She sighed and stood to stretch. She groaned, feeling every ache and pain from her bike ride. Why was exercising and being healthy so hard?
She’d only been in Wishingbone a few days, but she knew she was going to miss it when she left. And it was bizarre how at home she felt here. The people were odd, but strangely kind and welcoming.
However, she knew the best thing about being here was Dominic.
God, it was going to be hard to leave him.
Tomorrow, he was taking her horse riding. If Reuben knew, he’d laugh his head off. Which is why she hadn’t told him when he’d called her earlier. He tended to call every day since she’d collapsed and scared the living crap out of him.
His words.
So today she’d discreetly mentioned the restaurant to a few people while she’d been out.
All of the locals seemed of one opinion. Davidson was an asshole. But so far, she hadn’t found anything she could pin on him.
Of course, Reuben wasn’t worried about her actually finding anything. He’d be happy if she went ahead and planted something bad in the restaurant to get revenge on him.
But she couldn’t do that. Not yet anyway.
Her phone buzzed in her hand, and she glanced down to look at the name that popped up.
“Hello,” she said, sounding breathless.
“Hello, darling girl. How are you?”
Dominic had gone home Friday night after spending most of the day with her. She’d half-expected him to book another hotel room or ask if he could stay with her.
But he’d seemed to sense that she needed a bit of time to process. Especially after that orgasm.
That had been something else. She was still a bit embarrassed by the way she’d reacted.
“I’m good.” Actually, she was lonely, but she didn’t tell him that. Because it was silly to miss him this much when she’d just met him.
“Have you had dinner yet?”
As he asked that, she became aware of how hungry she was. Her stomach gurgled. Loudly.
Please don’t let him have heard that.
“Was that your stomach growling?” he asked in a low voice.
“Um, maybe.”
“Gwen.”
Ooh. Her name. She was in trouble.
“Yes, it was my stomach. I got caught up in some stuff I’m doing for a friend and lost track of time.” She glanced at the clock, wincing as she saw it was after eight.
Great. Knowing her luck, there wouldn’t be much open around here after eight.
“You need some close watching, Little girl.”
Jesus. Those words in that tone . . . kryptonite.
“Sorry. I tend to get wrapped up in things and don’t notice that I’m hungry or thirsty.”
“I don’t like that you can so easily ignore your body’s warnings. I’m going to get some food brought to your room, okay? They’ll knock on the door, but I will direct them to leave the food at the door. You’ll wait until they’ve left to open the door.”
“Jeez, you let a man give you an orgasm and he gets all bossy.”
“Gwen.”
Yikes. Two Gwens in the space of a minute.
“I can go out and get some dinner. You don’t have to have it sent to me.”
“I don’t like the idea of you walking around this late.”
“I thought it was pretty safe here.”
“It’s not completely safe anywhere,” he countered. “And there’s been some increased crime lately. I’d prefer to have some food delivered to you. What do you feel like?”
“Umm.” What she wanted was far different from what she knew she should eat. “Do you think there is somewhere that does a good Greek salad?”
“Sure. I think I do. Are you sure that’s what you want, though?”
“No. What I want is chicken-fried steak with mashed potatoes. But that isn’t very good for me.”
“Gwen, is there anything you need to tell me?”
“Not yet. Please. I . . . I’m not ready yet.” And she wasn’t sure if she ever would be. If this relationship was going anywhere, of course she’d tell him.
“All right, darling girl. I’ll trust you to tell me when you’re ready. However, if this is about your health and safety, I’d prefer to know sooner rather than later, yeah?”
