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The following morning, running down the stairs, bikini on, towel in hand, she was determined to have a better day. The more she cared, the more emotion she expended. Hanging around Hugo was so much easier than being around Harry and Daire. Especially Daire. That man could do things to her insides that she’d only read about in novels. Unlike her Danny, Daire could also aggravate her so much she wanted to tear out his hair.
At the bottom of the stairs, she swung herself around to go toward the front of the house. Except as she passed the kitchen, someone called out: Hugo.
“You stood me up,” he said, the tease of a smile in his tone.
Rather than go to the pool, she went to the bar at the front of the kitchen. “I know, I’m sorry,” she said because an apology was warranted. “I wasn’t thinking. Harry asked if I wanted to go out and we haven’t had any time together.”
“I know,” Hugo said, slipping something out of the pan onto a plate. “If it was for anyone other than your father, I might be jealous.”
He came over to put the plate on the bar. Pancakes.
“What’s this?” she asked, laying her towel on a stool.
“A little birdie told me you like pancakes in the morning.”
Oh, awkward. She tried to smile, but it wasn’t real. “Which little birdie?”
Like she didn’t know.
He tapped the side of his nose as he backed off. “I’ll never reveal my sources.”
Only one person knew of her love for pancakes. Unless, of course, Daire had been regaling the Olympus guys with tales of how he’d conned her. Then it would be common knowledge.
“Is this for me?”
“Yeah,” Hugo said, gesturing with a spatula. “Dive in. I have a surprise for you later. I need an hour or two to do some paperwork, reading and signing stuff, nothing exciting, and then I’m whisking you away.”
“Whisking me where?”
As she cut a piece of pancake with the side of the fork, mental images of maple syrup spirals and the furrow in Daire’s brow joined her.
“Somewhere you’ll like,” Hugo said, wiping his hands. “If I leave you alone for a while, will you still be here when I come back?”
Chewing on her pancake, she nodded. He pointed at her and raised his brows.
She swallowed. “Maybe not in this exact spot, but I will still be in the house, I promise.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” he called out as he slipped away.
The pancake was dry and there was nothing around to go with it. She could snoop but wasn’t that hungry anyway. Leaving most of the food on the counter, she decided it would be a better plan to swim and then eat.
The warmth of the early sun was heating the patio when she went out and dropped her towel on a bed. Diving into the water, she convinced herself that it would cleanse her woes.
It must have done something. She lost track of time and her number of lengths. Her muscles were buzzing and her skin alive when she pushed out of the water. Ignoring the fixed beds in the shallows at the edge of the pool, she chose one by the window where she’d dumped her towel. Running her fingers through her hair, thinking that it would need to be washed, she lay down to enjoy the early sun first.
After closing her eyes, her mind grew heavy, and her body relaxed. Mellow. Just be mellow. Chilled. Calm.
A shadow blocked the warmth of the sun. Great. There went the neighborhood.
If Daire wanted something, he’d have to open his mouth and ask for it. And, yes, she did know it was him. Until he used his voice, she chose to ignore him.
It wasn’t like she was counting the seconds, but he had to have been standing there for more than half a minute before the bed moved, betraying he’d sat down next to her. That was a step beyond her expectation. Figuring it was another game of chicken, her eyes stayed shut.
“You’re not sleeping,” he murmured, an edge in his tone. “You haven’t been lying there long enough.” No questions and nothing worth responding to. “My guys are inside fueling up… We might only have a few minutes.” She remained quiet. “You still pissed about last night?”
“You wouldn’t have come out here and taken the risk of getting so close if you didn’t already know the answer to that,” she said, taking her time to show lazy affront.
“Why are you pissed? You think I’m still playing you? Baby, you can’t really—”
