“Is it?”
When did my voice drop an octave?
She inhaled quickly. “Actually, when you come back, I have a proposal for you.” She said it so fast, on a rushed exhale, that I almost missed it.
“You have a ... what?”
She groaned. “Never mind.”
I smiled. “What’s the proposal about?”
“Nothing.”
“Liar.”
“So ... what do you think about that painting they’re looking at?”
“Charlotte,” I said silkily, “you can’t change the subject.”
“Daphne and Richard might buy chickens. Isn’t that exciting?”
“Fine. Don’t tell me what it is.” I wedged a hand behind my head, relishing the quick buzz of attraction as it zipped between us. “I’ll figure it out.”
She snorted. “Highly unlikely.”
I’d missed this, all right. And if I dared allow my admission to go a step further, I’d missed her too.
“I’ll be back soon,” I told her.
She let out a shaky breath. “Because of what I said?”
“Just want to check on my investment,” I told her.
That seemed to satisfy her.
“Did you decide what you’re going to do with it yet?” she asked.
I smiled. She’d ask me that question until the day they handed over the keys.
“No,” I told her.
I hadn’t decided what to do with her either.
Despite that, I booked a flight back to Michigan less than ten minutes after we hung up.
Chapter Eighteen
BURKE
No one was watching for my arrival when I pulled the rental car to a stop in front of the carriage house. Probably because I hadn’t told anyone I was coming.
Chances were high that Charlotte wasn’t even there, given it was a beautiful summer night, but it was a risk I was willing to take, simply because I wanted to see how she’d react when she didn’t know I was set to arrive.
It was so much lighter in the evenings now, something I hadn’t remembered about my time in Michigan, and it was bizarre to walk into the carriage house at 9:00 p.m. with daylight still streaming through the windows.
“Honey, I’m home,” I called out.
Silence.