Page 17 of The Princess and the Pizza Man

“Just here for moral support, then?” she asked.

“That… and, well, I don’t want Bells with just anyone.” The doors started to close, and he pressed up against them again to keep the elevator from going anywhere. “She begged me to come up here. Wants to meet her one and only, but doesn’t want to just fall for the first guy who shows an interest.”

“So, you’re playing referee.”

“One way of putting it, I guess.” The doors moved again. The muscles in his arms flexed, and Winter couldn’t help but admire the veins that popped up along his biceps. “But she’s why I’m here. And I wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t important to her.”

Winter blinked up to his blue eyes, smiling at the sincerity there, the protectiveness and love for his sister resting just behind the annoyance of being in the middle of a murder mystery he wanted no part of. An empty throb ran across her heart, a subtle green wave of jealousy washing over her. She’d always wanted someone to love her like that—not as an employer or co-star or whatever other title she held, but as family.

“Okay,” she said, agreeing to she didn’t know what—to take this match as seriously as possible, maybe?

He let out a small laugh and pushed the door open again. “Not sure if you get what I’m sayin’.”

“Maybelle needs to be matched with a good guy.” She reached up and patted his sturdy shoulder. “I got it.”

“Wegot it.”

She felt a wrinkle in the middle of her forehead. “Huh?”

The door rattled again, and instead of fighting it, he simply stepped back inside, his body coming so close she had to take a step back to catch her breath. “I know you been doin’ this a while, but this is my sister. And if she’s willing to do something like this…” He gestured around them, like the entire mansion was something to be scoffed at instead of appreciated. Winter felt her wall of defense snap back into place, and she crossed her arms and set her jaw. Will put his hands up. “Look, I just wanna make sure we get it right.”

“So you want to help.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” She could be snappy with him, too. Silly, unappreciative man.

“I know Bells.” He ran a hand over his chin. “And believe me, if I wasn’t takin’ this seriously, I wouldn’t have said anything to you. But you’re a professional. Youdoknow what you’re doing. I just want to be involved, is all.” He grinned, taking a step back and relaxing against the doors. “It might make this trip go by faster, too.”

She shook her head. “So eager to go home.”

“Yes,” he said unabashedly. She wondered what was so great about Alabama. It almost had her planning a trip just to see what the big deal was.

She took a deep breath, running her hands up and down her arms, suddenly aware of how cold she was. Her dress for lunch didn’t have any sleeves, either. She might have to find a shawl or something.

Her eyes flicked to the watch on his wrist, and she got lost in the dark hair of his arm, the roughness of his hands, how they must be the result of hard work.

Her eyes went back to his before she even realized she hadn’t been paying attention enough to notice the time.

“I’ll think about it,” she said, holding up a finger. “On one condition.”

“Shoot.”

She smiled wide and batted her eyelashes. “You have to at least pretend you like it here.”

He laughed as he reached behind him and clicked the five button, and the doors opened right up. “You show me a kitchen, and I will feel right at home.”

Then the doors closed, and Winter took a breath, deflating against the wall with a smile. She hadn’t realized how fast her heart was beating until she put a hand to her neck and counted the beats. She thought about Will’s adorable laugh the whole way up to her room. He wanted a kitchen? Well, she sure had one to show him.

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