“I am.”
She’s beautiful, and she smells incredible. She hasn’t even been baking pies, and she still smells just as sweet. It pains me. I want her to be mine. All mine. That red dress—the one I love—skims her body, and my eyes travel the length of her. I see her sexy toes painted red, and I smile.
She suddenly remembers she was talking to the idiot next to us, and she introduces me to him. I don’t remember his name or what he does, but he takes the hint, saying, “I look forward to the bed-and-breakfast, Aspen. Again, congratulations.” He turns to walk away.
“Who the fuck was that?”
“Down boy,” she commands. “He’s a potential customer for The Rose.” Her face lights up, and she continues. “He owns an engineering firm here, and he has a lot of customers come in from out of town. He promised to send them my way.”
But my neck tightens. “So, you’ll accept his help, but you won’t accept mine?”
She blinks hard, and her face darkens. “Um…” she starts, and I see she’s about to pick up steam. Shit.
“It’s one thing to send me some customers, and something else entirely to loan me $300,000. Especially only a few days after you rant like a lunatic about hating me so much. What is your problem anyway?”
“I said I was sorry for that,” I whisper, my nostrils flaring. She takes a step back and looks disturbed, which wasn’t my intention. I’d better get my shit under control, or I’ll lose all the progress I’ve made. “And I didn’t like how that asshole was looking at you.” Whoops, I don’t think that will help my case.
“Hey!” she snaps. “I don’t belong to you, and your jealous behavior is juvenile. Let’s remember when you wedged yourself into my business with the inspection, after I explicitly told you to stay out!” She stomps her foot, which I would think is cute, but now is not the time.
“Last time I checked, that helped you greatly, and you thanked me for it!” I snarl softly, leaning in.
“I thanked you because I’m not a Neanderthal!” she bites back and then tightens her lips, and she looks like she’s about to turn into a ball of fire. I’m about to get burned.
I change course. “Why are you wearing the red dress?” Speaking of it reminds me how much desire is running through me, and I try to control it.
Busted. Her chocolate eyes soften, and she looks at me without flinching. “Because you liked it.”
I take a sharp breath. Fuck. She wore it for me. And I’m acting like an asshole. I exhale and look at her. I want to drag her into the broom closet and give her the pounding we both need so bad, not giving a shit anymore if I get burned.
I swoop in close and whisper, “You look divine, Aspen, and I want to kiss you so hard right now.” She closes her eyes, and my words work their way through her body, and for a brief second, we’re the only two people in the room. In the world.
She opens her eyes, and they meet mine, our imagined solitude cocooning around us.
Then she sighs, and good ol’ clarity flashes behind her eyes. “Look, I’d spend more time with you, since I’m here anyway, but I can’t spend it all with you. I have a list of people I need to network with, and since you’re a crazy, jealous teenager—with no right to be jealous, I might add—I’ll have to bump into you later. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”
And with that, she walks off, her voice trailing behind her.
I feel like I’m gasping for air. Shit. I’m such a goddamn idiot. That’s not how this was supposed to go down, though I don’t know what I expected. Of course she has to talk with other people… that’s why she’s here. But I want her all to myself, and I don’t appreciate her comments about my jealousy.
Even if she’s right.
I need to cool down. I walk over to the table where they showcase the donations available for auction from the various companies in town. I slowly walk along the table, looking at each one, searching for Gabby’s Rooster. I find it second to the last, and I see Aspen is donating twenty pies. The first bid is for $300. This is a silent auction, so the bid is anonymous, with only the bidder’s number next to it. After that, I see somebody else has bid $500. The next bid is a thousand dollars, from bidder #0135.
I’ll fix that.
Sorry, Mr. 0135.
I reach into my pocket and pull out the card the hostess gave to me when I arrived. It has my bidder number on it, #0207. I put my number down and the amount for $10,000.
Satisfied, I look up and see her across the room. I can watch her from where I stand. I’d like to think I could relax once I have her in my sights, just watching her, but my body heats up again. She’s working the room, a little too well. One business owner after another, her audience is always captive, no matter who he is. And they’re all he’s. I can’t blame them, though. She’s stunning, and they’d be blind not to be drawn to her beauty and radiant charisma.
I’m staring at her, lost in my thoughts, unaware of the person who comes up next to me.
“Ryker, honey!”
I turn to see my mother. Oh joy. Her usual wild mane of black curls explodes out of her scalp, more frizzy than curly. If it were the 1970s, she’d probably look great. She’s wearing a turquoise silk jumpsuit with at least fifty 24-karat gold bangle bracelets clanking on each wrist, with matching 24-karat gold hoop earrings that are so big they graze the top of her shoulders.
“Jackie. How are you?” I give her a hug.
“I’m fine, but can you at least call me Mom in public?” She shakes her head in disapproval and
