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He waited for her to turn around and walk back down the stairs. Or at least step aside so he could go past. But she didn’t move, and neither did he.
“You look good,” she told him.
He huffed a laugh, running his hand over his beard. “I just took a shower. I should have trimmed this, too. It’s getting messy.”
“I like it,” she whispered. “You look dark and dangerous.”
And damn if he didn’t like that, too. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” She was wearing another pair of shorts. Cut-offs, this time. Her top was one of those tanks made of cotton with holes – the ones they called lace but weren’t – that floated down to the top of her hips, and her hair was pulled back into a messy bun. She looked beautiful. Young.
Too young.
“Thank you,” she said. “You’ll be pleased to hear that I remembered to trim my beard.”
It was a joke, he knew that. But it also made him think of that night when she apologized for not shaving – other places.
And then he was remembering how her body felt wrapped around his.
“I should go,” he said hoarsely. “Have a good night, Grace.”
“I will,” she said, finally stepping to the side. His arm brushed hers as he walked past, their knuckles grazing.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she whispered.
Their gazes connected again. He gave her the slightest of nods, then headed for the stairs before he ended up doing something they’d both regret.
ChapterEleven
“Cam tellsme you’re working yourself to the bone,” Logan said to Michael, taking a sip of his beer.
“Something like that.” Michael shrugged. “It’s harder when we’re not in the same time zone. But I have it under control. Everything’s all good.”
Logan nodded. As Cam’s identical twin, he’d always been close to Michael. Kept in touch when Michael moved to Europe. He’d even visited him a couple of times in London when he’d been there for business.
“It runs in the family,” another voice said. He turned to see Daniel standing there. Michael immediately felt guilty at the sight of Grace’s dad, then shook his head. Daniel had no clue what had happened between them.
Michael’d only been here for an hour. Cam was sitting in the corner with his brothers, Gray and Tanner. Over in the other corner, Gray’s sons were playing pool. Presley holding the cue as Marley took control of the table, potting one ball after the other. Michael’s youngest brother, Mason, was here, too, chatting with Hendrix, the third of Gray’s boys, and his friend Ethan.
Who Michael still didn’t like.
He turned back to Logan.
“How’s the farm?” he asked, because he didn’t want to look at how his brother and Ethan were laughing. Two of their other friends were with them, too. Ones that Michael didn’t know but kind of recognized from Mason’s social media.
“It’s good. We’re looking at building an extension to the Inn next year,” Logan told him.
Somebody slapped his arm. He turned to see Presley smiling at him. “Hey.”
“Hi. I heard what you did for Sabrina. You’re a good guy.”
“What happened with Sabrina?” Logan asked, looking from Michael to Presley.
“You don’t want to know,” Michael told him. “But all is good.”
“Does Cam know?” Logan frowned.
“He doesn’t need to,” Presley said, grimacing. “I spoke out of turn. It was something and nothing. Ignore me.”
“Nothing to do with a guy, I hope.” Logan frowned. “This is why I don’t have daughters. Sons are hard enough.”
