Kitabı oku: «No Ring Required», sayfa 6

Eight

The airport was packed, but Mary maneuvered her way through the crowds with the fierce determination of a woman going to war. According to the itinerary Ethan’s secretary had sent over yesterday morning, the plan was to fly to Chicago, then to Pellston Airport in Michigan, then take a cab to the Mackinac Island ferry. After their declarations of mutual disgust for each other, Mary was more than a little shocked that she and Ethan would be traveling together. She could’ve easily caught her own flight and met him at the hotel, but he’d insisted they make the trip together.

After checking in and making it through security without a body search, Mary headed over to the gate to wait for Ethan. She winced as she slid her carryon bag off her shoulder and onto one of the hard plastic chairs.

The captain’s regatta gala had been successful yesterday, raising a huge amount of money for the Cancer Research Institute, but Mary had forgotten to apply a liberal coat of sunscreen and had managed to give herself quite a sunburn in the process. And the painful moments just kept coming as she spotted Ethan walking toward her, looking anything but the stuffy business traveler in a long-sleeved white shirt and jeans, his large frame and hawklike gaze sending people out of his way without a word from him.

“Ms. Kelley.”

Her body instantly betrayed her, her insides jumping with awareness at the sound of his voice. “Mr. Curtis.”

“You look well,” he said, barely glancing at her striped polo shirt and white cropped jeans.

“Ah…thanks,” she muttered with a touch of sarcasm.

Ignoring her tone, Ethan handed her a large envelope. “I’ve taken the liberty of providing a dossier on the potential clients we’re going to see. Their likes, dislikes, food preferences and hobbies.”

“Great.” Mary couldn’t help but notice all the wistful stares Ethan was getting from women walking past. No wonder he could be so arrogant.

“As far as staff to hire for the party goes,” he continued brusquely, “I have the name of the best—”

“I’ve already been in touch with several staff-for-hire agencies on the island,” Mary informed him proudly. “I know who I’m going to hire and have already spoken to most of the staff.”

The only sign that Ethan might be impressed by her actions was the slight lift of his brows. “You’re nothing if not on top of matters, are you?”

Mary couldn’t tell if his words were meant as a backhanded compliment or sexual innuendo, but she flashed him a defiant glance regardless. “I’m good at what I do, how about that?”

“Make-believe,” he muttered.

“Excuse me?”

“A wife-for-hire agency, Mary?” he stated, as if that said it all. “What is that but pretending to be someone else?”

Mary was silent for a moment, her ire moderated by observation. “You know, I think there’s hope for you yet, Curtis.”

“I guess it’s my turn to say, excuse me?”

“If you can recognize the phony in me, you’ll be able to see it in yourself soon enough.”

Before Ethan could even react to her words, a woman approached them with a plastered-on smile. “Mr. Curtis, you may board now if you wish. The first-class cabin is ready.”

“Thank you.”

Ready to follow him, Mary shouldered her bag. “Should I go with you or are we boarding separately?”

A slow grin touched Ethan’s mouth, and he nodded at her boarding pass. “Better check your seat assignment first.”

Confused, Mary looked down at the ticket in her hand. When she looked back up, Ethan was already on his way toward the gate. How lovely, she mused. While he got pampered with warm towels and chocolate chip cookies in first class, she was going to share a bathroom with forty other passengers in coach.

“What’s wrong with your neck?” Ethan asked her once they were aboard the ferry and headed for Mackinac Island.

“It’s nothing,” she grumbled.

“Nothing my ass,” he countered as they walked the length of the deck and back again. “You’re moving like a robot.”

Ethan was just full of compliments, and she felt like socking him. “It’s just a pulled muscle. No big deal.”

“You can’t meet clients like that.”

“It’ll pass, okay? Relax.”

“How did it happen?”

The wind off the water whipped Mary’s hair around her neck as she tried to pick up her pace and shake off the stiffness in her limbs. “Do you really care? Why don’t you go inside and have a cup of coffee or a bourbon or something and let me work out these kinks myself.”

“I care, okay?” he said dryly. “What the hell happened on the flight?”

She sighed, stopped in her tracks and faced him. “A very large man decided to take a nap on my shoulder, and no amount of pushing and prodding and poking would wake him up. I was stuck in this insanely awkward position for two hours. I wonder if they have a chiropractor on the island.”

Ethan stared at her.

“What?” she asked.

“You poked someone?”

She sighed with heavy patience. “It was just with the eraser end of a pencil.” But, oh, how she had wanted to do so much more. “Little good it did. It only made him snore harder. And don’t even get me started with the lady on my right.”

“Did you poke her, too?”

“No, but I thought about it.” Mary pressed a hand to her lower back and stretched out her spine a little.

“Wanted to tell you her life story?”

“No. But that would’ve been okay, life story I could’ve handled. I can work up a good conversation with a stranger.” Her memory of the woman was pretty fresh and a wave of nausea hit her full-on. “No, this was a lack-of-deodorant thing.”

Amusement played behind his eyes. “I’m not going to feel sorry for you.”

“Who asked you to?” she returned playfully, using every ounce of will to make herself start walking again.

“You belonged in coach.”

She gave him a mock bow. “I know that, Mr. Curtis. I’m an employee, and I’m cool with that. In work and in life I know who I am and where I belong, and I fully accept it.” She couldn’t help herself, the words just fell out. “Unlike other people.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked as they reached the railing.

Only wanting to make a quick dig, not have a full-on fight, Mary glanced over the edge to the choppy sea below and tried to deflect. “Look at that water.”

Ethan wasn’t having any of it. Not that she expected him to. “Don’t go all female on me, Mary.”

Mary considered. “I don’t think that was as much female as it was passive-aggressive.”

“Whatever it was, just say what you’ve got to say,” he said impatiently.

She exhaled and turned to face him. “This is just a thought, but maybe if you’d stop trying to be something you’re not, you could actually enjoy your success. Maybe you wouldn’t have to resort to blackmailing people into doing what you want. They might come willingly.”

He grinned then, his gaze moving lazily over her. “If I remember correctly you came very willingly.”

“Don’t be crude.”

He shrugged, looking like a bad little boy. “I was talking about coming to work for me. But I like where your dirty mind goes, Ms. Kelley.”

“If you remember correctly, working for you was something I fought tooth and nail.”

“I remember you giving in pretty quickly, actually, as though you wanted to be as close to me as I wanted to be to you.”

Were they always going to end up here? Mary wondered. Bantering back and forth, both wanting to out-smart and outplay the other. And to what end…? It was only a few more days. “All I’m saying is that if you’d accept who you are and where you came from maybe you could be happy.”

“Who says I want to be happy?”

“Everyone’s looking for happiness, in some form or another.”

“Not me.”

She ignored him. “The problem is you’re going about it the wrong way.”

He gave his back to the water and lounged against the railing. “And you know the way to true happiness, Mary?”

No, but…“I’m trying. I’m sure as hell trying.” She cocked her head to the left to look at the island as it came into view and felt a searing pain in her neck. She groaned.

Ethan cursed softly. “You can hardly turn your head.”

“I’m fine. Nothing that a hot shower and a massage won’t cure.”

He touched her shoulder. “You know, I’d offer to help you with both of those forms of physical therapy, but—”

“But you pretty much hate me right now,” she answered, trying to ignore the heat from his hand.

“Nope, that logic doesn’t matter so much for a guy.”

She tried to look shocked, but laughter quickly bubbled in her throat. “Okay, so what is it, then? You can’t help me take a shower because I can’t stand you?”

He considered this for about two seconds. “Ah…no. A guy can get past that sad fact, too.”

She laughed again.

His voice lowered to a sexy timbre. “And you don’t hate me, Mary.”

His arrogance and unflinching confidence could be a real pain in the ass sometimes, especially when his assumptions were right on target. “Well, so what is it, then? Don’t tell me you won’t assist my shower time out of some misplaced sense of duty.”

“No.” He faced the coming island and looked pensive. “I’m just afraid it might make me happy, and as I said, I’m not looking for that.”

The Birches was an authentic 1890s Queen Anne Victorian, and when Mary first stepped inside the entryway, she thought she’d fallen asleep and woken up in a dream—or at the very least a movie. The nine-bedroom, six-bath original Victorian had beautifully restored hardwood floors, luscious paneled ceilings, three fireplaces, extensive property, and from the wraparound porch, a panoramic view of the Straits of Mackinac, Round Island, Mackinac Bridge and the Grand Hotel.

She couldn’t even imagine how much it cost to rent such a place. Harold, the real estate agent Ethan had used for their trip, gestured gleefully around himself. “Here we are, Mr. Curtis. Beautiful home, isn’t it.”

“Nice,” Ethan said unenthusiastically as he checked his Blackberry.

Poor Harold looked so dejected that Mary felt compelled to offer up her best smile. “Well, I think it’s lovely.”

He gave her a grateful look. “It was rumored that Rudolph Valentino and Nita Naldi stayed here at one time.”

“Really?”

“Right after Blood and Sand.”

“Wasn’t Valentino married?”

Harold nodded and said conspiratorially, “To two women, actually. He hadn’t yet divorced the other.”

“I hate silent films,” Ethan muttered, checking his e-mail.

Mary rolled her eyes at Harold. “So, where am I staying?”

Before Harold could even open his mouth, Ethan jumped in with, “I arranged for you to have the house next door.”

“What?” Mary looked from Ethan to Harold and back again. “A whole house? Come on, Curtis. I thought I’d just get a hotel room close by.”

Harold cleared his throat, his neck growing as red as a ripe tomato as he tried to make eye contact with Ethan. “Actually, sir, we had an emergency, and the family staying there had to remain on. But,” he said, brightening, “we have a lovely suite for Ms. Kelley across town at the Mackinac Inn.”

“That will be fine,” Mary said pleasantly, but she could feel Ethan already shaking his head.

“No, it won’t,” he informed her. “We have work to do, and you need to be here. Across town…” he said in a tone that sounded as though she were going to stay somewhere in Paris. “You can’t even get anywhere around here without a horse or a bicycle. It’ll take forever.”

“Sir,” Harold attempted deferentially. “I assure you that on an island so small, transportation is quick and very easy to—”

Ethan ignored him, his gaze hard and fixated on Mary. “You’ll stay with me.”

She was getting awfully tired of Ethan Curtis’s demands. “No way.”

“This house is large enough for ten people,” he said.

“Again. No way.”

He scowled. “You’re acting like a child.”

“I’m acting like a professional. Forget for a moment how it looks and feels to me, but how would it look to your clients if the woman you hired is also staying in the home you rented?”

He shrugged. “Practical.”

“No.” She lowered her voice as Harold pretended to inspect a wall sconce. “Like she’s also being hired for another purpose.”

They stared at each other, a haze of lust blanketing Ethan’s expression. Mary felt helpless, weak for a moment as a quick shiver shot through her. She tried to control the sudden pounding of her heart, until finally the look on Ethan’s face dissolved.

“You’re being paranoid,” he said roughly. “This is business. I’ll have offices here and so will you. You can take the entire second floor and I’ll remain down here. Barring business, we never have to see each other.”

Mary sighed. She didn’t want to argue the point anymore, and poor, miserable Harold had all but tried to crawl up inside the wall sconce and disappear. She would figure out her situation on her own. “All right, Harold. Can you show me upstairs?”

The man released a weary breath and started up the stairs. “There are some beautiful rooms to choose from and incredible views of the water.”

Before she followed him, Ethan put his hand on her shoulder. “Make sure you get that shower. You’re still walking like a robot.” Then he leaned in, whispered in her ear, “And if you need any help…”

Yes, she’d have to find another arrangement as soon as possible. Just the warmth of Ethan’s hand made her want to curl into him, nuzzle his neck and remove his shirt, but she detached herself anyway, and followed the agent up the stairs. “Hey, Harold, how old is this house did you say?”

“It was built in 1891, but everything’s been updated for your convenience.”

“Like the plumbing?”

“Of course.”

“And locks on the doors?”

“Every one of them, miss.”

She heard Ethan chuckle below, and the sound shot to every nerve, every muscle, every spot that ached for his touch.

Nine

Good thing he’d checked the house’s extensive property, or he might not have found her.

The historic barn was only about sixty feet from the main house and featured three horse stalls, food storage areas, tack room, carriage storage room, hay room and small living quarters upstairs. That last bit of information had tipped Ethan off when Mary hadn’t come downstairs after a shower and change.

Ethan scowled at her. “You’re the most stubborn person I have ever met.”

Wearing a white terry cloth robe that showed absolutely nothing except for her feet and about an inch of neck, Mary stood at the barn door, blocking his entrance. “Thank you.”

“That agent told you about this place, didn’t he?”

“His name is Harold.”

“Yeah, well, Harold clearly isn’t looking for a good word from me to his boss.”

“Don’t take it out on Harold,” Mary said, trying to force her hair into some type of halo style on top of her head with a couple of pins. She looked like a damn angel and Ethan had an intense urge to be saved.

“Are you going to show me around?” Ethan asked wryly.

Defiance glimmered in her pale-blue eyes, but she took a step back and allowed him to pass. “Do you promise to be good?”

“Are you kidding? Don’t you know me at all?”

She laughed, a soft, throaty sound that made him think of the nights they’d shared, the sound that would erupt from her throat every time she climaxed. Blood thrummed in his temples as he followed her past the neat tack room and unused stalls, up the short set of stairs to the loft. There he took one look around and sniffed derisively. “This place is microscopic and—”

“And perfect for one person,” Mary finished for him.

The walk upstairs had caused the ties on her robe to loosen, and the lapels were gaping slightly—just enough for him to see a curve of one pale breast. His mouth watered, and he tore his gaze away and glared at the bed. Warm light infused the room, kissing the pale-blue coverlet. It was a soft space, and he felt way too hard to belong there.

“I think it’s the best of both worlds,” Mary said, mis-taking his tense jaw and piercing gaze for annoyance instead of desire. “Seeing how we feel about each other.”

How they felt about each other. The idea made Ethan want to laugh. One minute he wanted to shake her, and the next he wanted to kiss her. What he did know was that he didn’t want to hate her—not anymore—didn’t want to feel pissed off at her. “I don’t like this.”

She sighed. “We’re close enough to work and far enough not to…”

“Not to what?” he asked, wondering how long it would take him to remove that robe. Two seconds? Five? Or maybe he’d want to do it slowly, just a shoulder first. Or maybe he’s start at her feet, work his way up to her calves, thighs…“Fall into bed again?”

Pink suddenly stained her cheeks, and she moistened her bottom lip with her tongue. “Something like that.”

“It seems like a whole lot of trouble for nothing.”

Her chin lifted. “I seem to remember you comparing me to a python. Aren’t you glad that the python isn’t living upstairs?”

He didn’t answer. He walked over to the window and stared out. “There’s no view of the water from here.”

She sniffed. “I think I’ll live.”

“You’ll be up here day and night…alone.”

“Why do you care, Curtis?”

“I don’t,” he said through gritted teeth. He didn’t want to.

“Business won’t suffer,” she assured him. “I can be up at the house in under five minutes.”

If he didn’t get the hell out of here right now, he was going to find out the answer to that robe question of his, and then Mary Kelley would have the upper hand on him and he couldn’t have that. He turned away from the window and stalked across the tiny space. “Thirty will be fine.”

She studied him, her brows slightly knitted. “What’s the plan for the rest of the day?”

“We have a few hours of good light left. Maybe…scouting a location for the party?”

She looked surprised. “I would’ve thought you’d want it at the house.”

“I’m not sure what I want,” he said tightly. “I’d like some options.”

Her expression now impenetrable, she nodded. “All right. Well, I’m finally going to take that shower I’ve been looking forward to since this morning, and I’ll meet you out front in thirty minutes.”

The thought of Mary naked under a waterfall of hot water had Ethan sucking in oxygen, but not enough: his lungs constricted with pain. She was going to take off that robe, not him. She was going to touch her skin, not him. Women could be masters at torture, but this woman had it down to a science. His gaze shot to the small bathroom to his right. So white and clean and sweet.

His entire body charged with electricity, Ethan turned away and headed back down the stairs.

“We could always walk into town,” Mary suggested as she sat in the back of a small black buggy, outside the gates of their rental house.

Glaring at the docile horse, Ethan slowly shook his head. “Nope.”

The carriage driver looked straight ahead, smart enough not to get involved, but Mary wasn’t afraid to incur the wrath of Ethan Curtis. The late-afternoon sun was starting to mellow into a stunning orangish pink and if they didn’t get a move on they’d be scouting locations for the party in the dark.

“Are you going to climb up here or not?” Mary asked as she watched Ethan sidle up to the chestnut mare.

“Just give me a minute,” he uttered crossly, reaching out to stroke the animal’s mane as he whispered something to her Mary couldn’t hear.

When he finally climbed into the buggy and dropped down beside Mary, she was curious as hell. “So, what’s up with you and Shirley?”

“It was personal.”

The driver clicked his tongue a few times and they were off down the dirt road. “Did you ask for her hand in marriage?” Mary asked, grinning. “Oops, sorry, I mean her hoof?”

“We were just having a little discussion, that’s all.”

“About?”

“Manners.”

Mary laughed. “Did you have a drink before we left the house?”

Ethan crossed his arms over his chest and reclined back in his seat. “I don’t want her throwing us, that’s all.”

“The driver said she’s as docile as they come.”

“That’s what they’d like you to believe,” he muttered dryly.

“They?”

“The driver and…Shirley.”

Again she laughed. “What in the world are you talking about?”

“I’m not all that into horses, okay?”

“Oh, c’mon. Everyone loves horses. How could you not like horses? It’s un-American.”

“Okay, they don’t like me,” he grumbled.

“You need therapy,” she said as they passed another horse and buggy on their way to town. The air had chilled considerably since their arrival, and Mary scooted just a little closer to Ethan. “All right, I’m listening. Tell me the whole sad story.”

“What story?”

“Give me a break.” She inched even closer to him so their legs were touching. “You’ve got to be freaked out for a reason—what’s the story?”

On a curse, Ethan lifted his arm, dropped it around her shoulders. “I was ten. It was Sammy Bishop’s birthday party and this sweet and supposedly ancient horse named Izabo was there giving rides to all the kids. With everyone else, she walked slower than a turtle, it was almost funny, the parents were actually referring to her Iza Slow. But as soon as I got on her back it was Kentucky Derby time.” He lifted up his left forearm. “I fell and broke my arm in three places.”

Mary let her head relax against his arm, knowing full well how totally inappropriate they were both being. “That was a fluke thing and it happened one time. You can’t hold that against—”

“Then when I was fourteen,” he said as the buggy took a deep hole and they bumped against each other. “My girlfriend dragged me to the circus. Everything was fine until the horse and rider came out. Jezebel the Great freaked out halfway through her routine and stormed the stands.”

“No way.”

“Oh, yeah. And who do you think she headed straight for?”

“Okay, I’m beginning to see a pattern,” Mary said, laughing, the scent of lake water heavy in the air.

“I broke two ribs.”

Without thinking, Mary reached over and ran her fingers down the length of his rib cage only stopping when she heard his sharp intake of breath. “Feel fine to me.”

His heavy-lidded gaze held hers. “Well sure, they’ve healed now.”

It was a good thing that the driver stopped then, or Mary believed Ethan might’ve leaned in and kissed her, and she also believed she would have kissed him back. They got out in front of a fudge shop and started walking up Main Street, which had a similar architectural feel to New Orleans, though the scents in the air were totally different. As they passed shops, restaurants and art galleries, Mary missed Ethan’s arm around her, the strength of him, and she silently wished he’d take her hand, lace her fingers with his.

“You know what?” she said as they walked to the west end of downtown where the pedestrians were fewer. “I don’t think it’s really about the horses not liking you.”

“Oh, this should be interesting.”

“I think it’s a sex thing.”

A dark brow lifted over one eye. “Come again?”

“Izabo, Jezebel and Shirley,” she pointed out. “It’s a female thing. Females have this reaction to you.”

Ethan processed this for a brief moment, then burst out laughing. “How the hell did I get mixed up with you?”

She tossed him a taunting smirk. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

They continued down the street, passing a lovely old church, a library and a quaint soda shop—which Mary considered for the party, then quickly deemed too informal. Several blocks down, closer to the water, Ethan pointed to a lovely, small, intimate hotel called the Miran Inn. “What do you think of this place?”

Cocking her head to one side, Mary looked the inn up and down. “It’s beautiful, but hotels have been done to death. Not to mention the fact that three of the ten potential clients we’re throwing this party for own inns on the island.”

“Right.”

“Don’t you want something interesting and surprising? Something the spouses actually want to come to?”

“Yes.”

Mary had been contemplating something since they’d arrived here, and she wanted to pull it out now. “Let’s go.” Grabbing his hand, she tugged, urging him to follow her.

“Where?”

“Just follow me.”

Mary led him off the main street and down a short hill to a bluff, onto the sandy beach. Overhead the gulls were calling on each other to share their fish, and several tourists were taking pictures of a beautiful lighthouse in the distance. Releasing his hand, Mary walked down to the water’s edge and lifted her hands to the fading sun. “Perfect,” she called, turning back to face him. “A barbecue on the beach. Intimate, casual, great food—and no horses involved.”

Ethan glanced around, then slowly nodded. “I like it.”

“Great,” she said excitedly. It would be her first beachside barbeque and she was going to make it a day to remember.

Ethan came to stand beside her, a look of admiration in his eyes. “I have to admit, you’re great at what you do, you know that?”

Her hair whipped around her face. “Thank you.”

He tucked one thick blond strand behind her ear, then let his thumb retreat across her cheek. “Very smart, very intuitive. There’s just one problem.”

Her expression froze. “What’s that?”

“You’re too beautiful for your own good. A man couldn’t get you out of his mind no matter how pissed off he was.”

“Don’t you mean ‘is’?” He was too close. She could feel the heat off his body, and there was no denying the desire in his eyes.

His fingers left her cheek and slid down her neck, pausing at her collarbone. He didn’t move for a moment, and his face looked rigid, as if he was contemplating what he’d just done. Then he dropped his hand and shook his head helplessly. “I’m sorry. I…I have to get back.”

Electricity was shooting through Mary’s body like fireworks, but she fought for control and nodded once. “Of course.”

“I have a dinner meeting.”

“And I have a guest list to study.”

They walked side by side, up the bluff and back to Main Street to catch a cab.

“You’ll be all right on your own tonight?” Ethan asked as one pulled up in front of them.

Mary climbed into the cab and this time sat close to the door. “Have been for the past twenty-some years,” she uttered softly.

“What was that?” Ethan asked, not having heard her muffled answer.

She released a heavy sigh. “I said, I’ll be just fine.”

At night on Mackinac Island something wonderful happens. As the sun sets slowly and exquisitely against the water, the sounds of nature hum rhythmically through an invisible speaker. Forget expensive sound machines to soothe you to sleep, opening a window and stretching out on the bed was all Mary needed for a relaxing evening.

Well, that and some food…and a glass of wine.

With several pillows behind her head, Mary grabbed the delivery menus she’d garnered from the buggy driver and flipped through them. Beside her on the table was the guest list she now knew backward and forward, and she was ready to chill out. She paused on the page of an Italian menu that sounded pretty good and grabbed her cell phone off the bedside table. But before she had completed dialing the number, there was a sharp rap on the door downstairs.

She glanced at the clock. Would Ethan really be done with his dinner meeting by eight-thirty? Maybe it was Harold, come to discuss the history of each barn stall and let her know that Man O’War once sired a foal here. Laughing at her idiocy, Mary loped down the stairs and hauled back the barn door.

Ethan Curtis leaned against the door frame looking incredibly handsome in jeans and a black long-sleeved T-shirt, his sharp jaw dusted with stubble.

“Everything okay?” Mary asked, amusement in her voice.

“Yeah,” he began, then took it back. “Well, no. There’s a problem up at the main house.”

“Seriously? What is it? Did a pipe burst or something? These older houses are notorious for plumbing problems no matter how new the pipes…”

“No. It’s not the pipes.”

“Fireplace smoking?”

“No.”

She just loved it when he was forthcoming. “Well, what is it? Can’t figure out which bed to sleep in?”

His eyes darkened. “Something like that.”

Instinctively she took a step back, but only managed to knock her heel against a bucket and feel like a clumsy oaf. “How did your meeting go?”

“Good, fine, boring,” he said, his gaze moving over her. “They’re looking forward to the barbecue.”

Mary nodded, her mouth suddenly numb. If he would only just grab her, make this easy on both of them.

“Oh…” Ethan pulled a plastic bag from behind his back and handed it to her. “I thought if you hadn’t eaten…”

“Thanks. I was just about to order something.”

“Now you don’t have to.”

Many different ways of asking, “Would you like to share this with me?” popped into Mary’s head, but she rejected all of them. After all, he’d just come from dinner with clients. “Well, I’m going to go and enjoy this.”

“Okay.” He didn’t move.

She raised a brow at him and tried to apply a professional tone. “Do we need to discuss anything or can it wait until morning?”

He walked past her into the barn, his hand brushing over hers as he took the takeout bag from her. “You know what? I don’t think it can wait.”