Page 14 of Falling for the Bad Boy
“Really, though. What do you want to do after you graduate?”
He swallowed and waited a beat. “I’m not sure. There’s a bit of a disconnect right now over what I’d like to do and what I’m expected to do.”
If anyone could relate to that statement, I could. I’d lived my entire life balancing between “shoulds” and “wants.” But what did he mean by that? He gazed into his mug, like maybe his cup of coffee held the answers.
“You have someone waiting on you back home?”
He nodded. My heart sank. Of course he did. Someone as charming and good-looking as Oliver probably had a hometown honey waiting for him to come back.
I shifted in my chair and cleared my throat. “She’s a lucky woman.”
Glancing up, his brow furrowed. “What makes you say that?”
“Well look at you.” I waved a hand at him. “You’re what we Americans might call the whole package.”
“Really?” He sat up straighter in his chair. “Is that a compliment?”
“Sure,” I rambled on. “You’ve got the looks, the brains, the brawn.”
“Thanks, but I don’t know that my mother and sister are necessarily attracted to those particular attributes.”
“What?” My vision fuzzed at the edges. He said he had someone waiting on him back home. He had to have meant a girlfriend.
“The only people waiting on me to come back are my mom, dad, and sister.” Humor sparkled in the depths of his eyes.
“Oh, right.” Open mouth, insert entire leg. I usually held my own against attractive men. What was it about Oliver that threw me off my game and made me sound like a complete idiot?
“So you really think I’m the whole package?” He leaned closer, resting his elbows on the table.
Let the backpedaling begin. “Sure. I bet you’ll make someone a great package someday.”
The rich timbre of his laughter filled my ears, pulling at something deep inside. “Thanks. Maybe we should turn the conversation away from talking about my package, what do you say?”
Even the tips of my ears heated at that remark. I’d flirted with men around the world. Either I was out of practice or the man sitting across the table disarmed me completely.
“So what’s next for you? After graduation? For real this time?” I asked, preferring to turn the chatter back to something safe and neutral.
He shrugged, lifting those broad shoulders. “I don’t know. I’m hoping to find something to keep me in the States. Otherwise, it’s back home to help out with the family business.”
“Which is?”
He hesitated. “Agriculture.”
“You’re a farmer?” I meant it as a joke, but his face darkened.
“No. The South Island is famous for its wine.”
“Sorry. So your family works in the wine industry?” Now the bartending gig made sense.
“Right.” He leaned back, resting against the back of his chair. “How about you? You haven’t told me what kind of business you’re opening. Don’t you think I ought to know, seeing as how we’ll be neighbors?”
“It’s not a secret.”
“Then tell me.”
I took in a deep breath. The only person I’d shared my dream with was my grandmother. Not even Macy knew about my plans, although the time was coming up fast where I’d have to start talking about it if I wanted to make it a reality.
“I’m opening an art space.”
