Page 10 of Falling for the Bad Boy
"But you can’t." I whirled her around by the shoulders and pointed her toward the patio doors. "Mitchie-poo is probably waiting for you. Go on."
She pecked my cheek, probably leaving a mark. I wiped at my skin, my fingers coming away with a trace of coral lipstick.
"Fine, you’re right. I’d better go check in on him and make sure he hasn’t died of boredom." Macy stalked toward the patio doors. "Oliver, it was lovely to meet you. I hope Trinity will invite you back sometime."
"Me too." He shook her extended hand before she disappeared through the French doors leading out onto the patio.
"So that was Macy." I lifted my glass in a salute before taking a long sip.
Oliver’s brow furrowed. "So you’ve known each other since pre-school and now you’re crashing on her couch?"
"Something like that." I plucked a slice of lime from the caddy behind the bar and squeezed it into my drink. "Although Macy would die before she’d let me spend the night on her linen-covered loveseat. She’s got a guest bedroom with all the trimmings. I’ve been hiding out there for the past week or so."
"Let me get this straight." Oliver leaned his elbows onto the bar, putting his face less than two feet from mine. "You don’t actually live in town, but you’re buying a building and opening a business soon?"
I took in a breath, trying to fight the way my pulse kicked up a notch. The combination of his closeness coupled with his unquenchable curiosity put me on high alert. When he put it that way, it did sound ridiculous. "I’ve recently returned. Until I find a place of my own, Macy’s letting me crash here."
He nodded his head, real slow like he was trying to process what I told him. "Okay. So you have any family nearby?" He drained his glass of water before he set it back down on the bar.
"Kind of."
His teeth caught his lower lip, drawing my attention. Maybe it was the three gin and tonics. Or possibly the fact I hadn’t been with a guy in more than six months. But something about the way his teeth worked over that lip made me wonder what it might feel like if he were nibbling on me instead.
I cleared my throat. That was it. Time to put the kibosh on fantasizing about the cute bartender. I had a business plan to finalize and a score to settle. As much as I appreciated the ride home—I could still feel the way his backside curved into me as I pressed myself against him on the bike—I didn’t have the bandwidth to entertain ideas of a distraction.
The sound of the French doors opening made us both look across the room. Macy paused in the doorway, a tall, older man in a navy suit next to her.
"Unless you want to get stuck chatting up a bunch of suits about the Federal Interest Rate, you might want to split." I scuttled out from behind the bar and took his arm.
"So I’ll see you around?" he asked as I led him toward the door.
"I’m your new landlord, aren’t I?" I reached for the door handle, but he caught my hand.
"You’re Tapped’s new landlord. I just work part-time at the bar." His thumb grazed the tops of my knuckles. "I’d really like to see you again, Trinity."
My hand warmed under his touch. The warmth traveled up my arm, over my chest, tingling up my neck and filling my face with heat.
"Yes, Mayor Hunter." Macy’s voice floated across the foyer. In thirty seconds she’d be leading an entire entourage of people toward the door. I didn’t want to get caught up in introductions any more than I wanted to see my evening with Oliver end. But if I didn’t get him out of there—and fast—we’d both end up on the receiving end of handshakes and pleasantries.
"Okay, okay. We’ll see each other again. Just go." I pulled the door open and practically pushed him through.
The last thing I saw before I let it close was the grin on his face. Smug and sure, like somehow I’d lost something, and he’d gotten what he wanted. But I’d spent my whole life as the underdog, living in the shadow of my very capable, very successful siblings. It was my time to shine, my time to prove myself. And Oliver might not know it yet, but I was going to figure out a way for him to help me ensure my success.
CHAPTER 5
Oliver
A banging noise woke me. I rolled off the bed, my feet hitting the hardwood floor. I scrubbed my hand over my face as I caught a glimpse of my alarm clock. Who would be making such a ruckus before seven in the morning?
Shuffling to the window, I grabbed a T-shirt and pulled it on over my head. Nothing going on in the street out front. I checked the side window before heading to the back. I’d moved into the loft apartment over the bar when the last bartender left. Wyatt didn’t have a need for the space, so the rent was more than reasonable, and it made it convenient to be so close to work. Usually it was nice and quiet this early on a weekday morning.
The banging came again. Sounded like it was coming from the other side of my living room wall. That could only mean one thing. Trinity must be moving stuff in. I hadn’t seen her since I’d left her standing in her friend’s outrageous condo a few days ago. I almost thought she was going to kiss me then. But she hadn’t, and I’d gone about my business wondering when I might get to see her again.
Looked like today might be my lucky day. I stepped into the jeans I’d left on the chair by my bed last night and made my way to the kitchen. Coffee. I’d make a pot of coffee and head over to offer her some. That seemed like a neighborly thing to do. Back home our closest neighbors were at least five kilometers away, which meant I hadn’t had very many opportunities to show my neighborly side.
After I’d run a toothbrush over my teeth and a comb through my hair, I stood on the sidewalk out front, peering in through the thick windows, a travel mug of coffee in hand. No signs of life came from inside. I knocked, my knuckles landing on the tall wooden door. While I waited, I tried to imagine what kind of business Trinity was going to be opening in the space. She’d said it wasn’t an art gallery, but it must have something to do with art, otherwise where would Wyatt have gotten that idea?
I got tired of waiting so I picked my way through the narrow alley to try the back door. The large overhead door on the dock sat about two feet open. I scooted under it and found myself in a tiny receiving area. The air smelled like it hadn’t been disturbed in a long time. Too bad we didn’t have a dock on our side of the building. It would make deliveries so much easier.
