Page 122 of Banter & Blushes

The paper cup he had picked up crumpled in his hand, and Caroline’s head snapped up.

“What?” she asked, suddenly alert. “That face you just made?”

“What face?” He tried to sound casual and failed miserably.

She tilted her head, eyes narrowing. “The one which says something bit you.”

“Just remembering what I’ve signed up for.”

“Regrets already?” She arched a brow, challenging him in a way which made him want to take the dare.

“Some of us are smart enough to know when to run.”

Her smile was a dangerous thing. Confident. All-knowing. “Not smart enough to say no in time.”

“Point taken,” he conceded, rubbing the back of his neck like it might easethe tension. He pushed back from the desk and tossed the paper cup in the trash can.

“You okay?” she asked, noticing his quiet.

“Yeah. Just…” He trailed off, eyes drifting to her binder. “Wondering what else you’ve got in there QQ.”

“Don’t tempt me. I haven’t even shown you the flowcharts.”

He held up his hands.

“Mercy.”

“Coward.”

“Flatterer.”

She laughed. Really laughed. He wasn’t prepared for the way it punched him right in the chest. He’d been avoiding this for months. People, plans, the pull of something bigger than quiet porch mornings.

But now … the binder wasn’t the only thing getting under his skin.

There was something invigorating about sparring with her. It was like she threw small sparks in the air whenever they talked, and he couldn’t help but enjoy the heat. He reached over, deftly flipping her page of marketing ideas. “Or … you could let me handle this, which was the whole point of me being here?”

She narrowed her eyes, but there was a mischievous light behind them. “And wasn’t your idea to plaster boards along the beach saying, ‘Please Stop Here and Spend Money’?”

“Hey, who gave you a right to use my copyrighted material. Don’t go stealing my genius. Let’s wrap this up.”

“Giving up on me so soon?” The teasing lilt in her voice was another surprise he wasn’t prepared for. She stood, her bare toes curling against the thin carpet as she stretched, arms over her head. Her sweater crept up, a hint of skin showing. He was worse off than he thought.

Just then, the door creaked open.

Gigi swept in holding a casserole dish like it was a peace offering and a weapon all in one. “I come bearing fuel,” she announced.

“We’re not hungry,” Caroline said automatically.

“You’re always hungry when you’re plotting,” Gigi countered.

“I’m hungry.” Beck took the dish. “Please tell me this is the chicken thing with the cracker topping.”

“With extra cheese,” Gigi winked, patting his cheek. “You’re welcome, darling.”

Caroline stood, visibly flustered. “You were just walking by?”

“Of course not,” Gigi sniffed. “I was in the neighborhood. And I had a hunch.”

---