Picking up my purse, which I left on the bed, I stand, tug at the hem of my new, cute T-shirt, smooth a hand over my hair, and decide to go face my reality.
I can handle this. Because really, I don’t have a choice.
Archer
“WHAT THE HELL is taking her so long? I’m starved.”
“Grumpy bastard,” I mutter, irritated with Gage’s incessant miserable chatter. He hasn’t quit griping about his empty stomach since the moment I ran into him in the kitchen. I offered him an apple but he wouldn’t take it. Heaven forbid he eats something healthy. And besides, it’s not my fault his sister is taking so long to get ready.
Why, I’m not sure. I saw her no more than five minutes ago, looking absolutely gorgeous in the simple outfit I left for her to change into. I’d been half tempted to grab her by the waist, walk her backward into the bedroom, lock the door, and have my way with her for the rest of the day. Talk about an ideal lazy Sunday.
But I knew Gage was waiting and besides, the panicked expression on her face when she first saw me deflated my ego completely. She looked ready to jump and run.
Did she regret what happened between us last night? I don’t, but I gotta admit, the vibe between us just now was uncomfortable yet hyperaware.
Were we going to pretend it never happened? That was probably best: act like what we shared last night was some sort of weird—and f**king amazing—dream. Acknowledging it the morning after only asked for trouble, especially since Gage was present.
A grumbling, moody Gage. He’s acting like a bear you’d regret poking too hard.
“You need coffee or what? I told you there’s a freshly made pot in the kitchen,” I say, unable to stand his moodiness one second longer.
“Bah.” Gage waves a hand. “I’ve had your coffee before. It’s complete shit.”
I don’t bother reminding him that I had the housekeeper make a fresh pot of coffee every morning. Just one of the many perks of having a lot of money. Gage is still stuck on us being college roommates when I used to make coffee that tasted like black oil sludge.
“Whatever. You’re missing out.” I glance toward the door, standing up straight when it opens, revealing Ivy, who stops on the top step. She’s looking fresh as a damn daisy, her hair still wet from the shower and pulled into a ponytail, showcasing that pretty face of hers. Her eyes sparkle, her cheeks are flushed, and when she catches sight of the both of us standing in front of my Mercedes, a smile curls those sensuous lips. Lips I tasted again and again last night.
Lips I’d like to see curled around my . . .
I frown. Damn it, I really need to stop thinking about her like that.
Her smile fades just as quick as it appeared. Like she caught herself doing it and realized her mistake. Or she noticed my frown.
Hell.
“Finally,” Gage calls out. “Let’s get going before they stop serving brunch.”
“They serve it until two,” I mutter, wishing like crazy Gage wasn’t with us. Of course, if he wasn’t, we wouldn’t be going to Hush either, and I’m excited to show off my baby to Ivy.
“I forgot what a grump you are in the morning until you get some food in your stomach.” She approaches us, her eyes soft when they light on me. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”
“You’re right on time,” I assure her, because at this very moment she really can do no wrong.
“I call shotgun,” Gage says as he reaches for the passenger-side door handle.
I slap my hand against the door, stopping him from opening it. “Are you so freaking hungry that you lost your mind? Let your sister sit in the front.”
“Why?” Gage sounds boggled. And clueless.
I should be thankful for clueless. If he was feeling a little sharper this morning, he might catch on to the weirdness going on between Ivy and me.
“Stop being such an infant and just sit in the back seat.” I jerk my thumb toward the back of the car.
“I can sit in the back . . .” Ivy starts, but I shake my head, cutting her off.
“Sit in the front.” I say it like a command, which gets those perfectly arched eyebrows of hers rising, and I round the front of the car without another word, sliding behind the steering wheel and starting the car.
I don’t mean to be such a bossy ass but Gage is on my last damn nerve.
She slides into the passenger seat, sitting right beside me, her usual floral scent not as strong. I can only assume that’s because she didn’t use her own products. Shampoo, body wash, perfume . . . I wish I knew exactly what made her smell so good. Perhaps it’s a mixture of everything, plus her own unique scent.
“It’s a beautiful morning,” Ivy says, her head turned away from me, nose practically pressed against the glass of the window. “I wouldn’t be able to get any work done if I had this sort of view distracting me every day.”
I pull out of the driveway, taking in my surroundings, ignoring the snort that emanates from the back seat. I thought I turned into an adolescent when I got near Ivy. Gage was ten times worse, switching to jerk big brother mode within seconds of Ivy making an appearance.
“After living here for so many years, I don’t even notice it,” I say, turning left and heading toward Hush. The resort is not far from my house, so the drive is easy. Beautiful.
Definitely beautiful, not that I’d noticed it much. Too distracted with work, too distracted with the business opportunity that suddenly came up. Thankfully, it’s an opportunity that will keep me in Napa Valley, but I know my father worries it might be a mistake, working on a new venture so close to the already successful Hush resort. Why mess with a good thing, is basically what he told me.