He’s leaned against the kitchen peninsula with his legs crossed at the ankles and his arms folded at his chest. Black cargo pants, black boots, and a chocolate-brown tee that clings to his muscles. He looks so damn good it makes me angry.
His gaze, as it glides over me, is like the tip of a finger whispering delicately across my skin.
Resisting the urge to squirm under his attention, I drag my eyes from him and to the girl sitting at the breakfast bar. Her entire upper half is slouched over onto the counter, a large mug of coffee in front of her face. She’s almost an exact replica of the woman I met last night, just a younger version, with longer, looser curls, and brown freckles sprinkled across her nose and cheekbones.
“Oh, yes, that’s me. Sorry, I didn’t want to intrude on a family moment,” I say, ambling to the kitchen. “You’re Tillie?”
“Yeah, sorry I can’t get up to greet you properly. I’m so hungover right now I could die,” she drawls. “And my brother here is only making it worse.” She elevates her voice to a half-shout on the last four words.
Torin snorts. “Good, I hope you puke your guts out. And you’ll know to drink responsibly next time.”
“Oh my gawwd, can youpleaseget out of here?” she whines. “Why are you even here? Didn’t Lexi warn you to stay off her property?”
Lexi.
The name hits me like a bag of bricks.
Lexi. The “mind-blowing” ex heloved.
This is her property? I thought Monica said it’s her children’s. I’m so confused. And peeved that he’s put me up at his freaking ex-girlfriend’s property. Just when I thought I couldn’t hate him more…
Though, it really shouldn’t matter, should it? I’m ajob,not his girlfriend. And a safe place is a safe place, no matter who it belongs to. Right? Right.
Now, if only my heart could get on board with my brain.
He’s not yours.
He’s nothing to you.
Stop romanticizing him.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Tillie,” I say with forced cheer. “I hope you feel better soon.”
“You havereallynice legs,” she tells me, looking me over from her half-prone position.
I do?“Oh, um, thanks,” I mumble, slightly self-conscious. Then jab a thumb over my shoulder. “I’m gonna take a look around. Maybe find a nice place to read.”
“Okay, see you at lunch...” She groans miserably and grips fistfuls of her own hair. “Maybe.”
As I turn to go,hisvoice stops me. “Lyra.”
I close my eyes and breathe. Deeper this time. Of course he wouldn’t just let me leave. I turn. “Yes?”
He jerks his head to the peninsula he’s leaned against, which prompts me to look down.
My purse.
“You left it behind,” he tells me.
Oh.That’s why he’s here. “Thanks. Appreciate it,” I say. “Just leave it there. I’ll get it later.”
Again, I turn and start for the doors, picking up the pace this time. I’m almost out the doors when I feel him behind me. His presence is so weighty, so hot, so…there.
Hand on the knob, I pause and glance over my shoulder at him. “What?”
“What what?” he returns, voice flat. “Just tryin’ to get out the door like you are.”
I dagger him a glare before I turn and step out onto a terrace that flows into a flourishing yard garden. A low hedge fencing separates it from the grander, double-pooled posterior grounds of the B&B.