Page 17 of Catch and Release

“You tell me. If you were me, what would you pitch?”

Willa couldn’t help it. She started getting excited as she considered the possibilities. The idea of building out a yoga program at a hotel was too thrilling for her to pass up.

“Sunset yoga, a few days a week. That one’s always a winner. And a sunrise class on Saturdays. And then we can expand, if people like it.”

Layla nodded thoughtfully, a grin growing. “We’d have to do a trial basis, of course.”

“Of course. And I can help think through where we should do the classes. And the marketing.”

“And we’d have to get my General Manager’s approval.” Layla frowned.

“Will that be hard?”

Layla sighed. “It’s not that. It’s just…”

Willa felt her energy shift.

“Look, I appreciate that you’re trying to help me out, but the last thing I want to do is create trouble for you, Layla.” Willa smiled. “Even the fact that you’d want to help me means a lot.”

Layla shifted in her chair. “No, no. It’s okay. You know how managers can be.”

Willa frowned. “What do you mean?”

“He’s just…” Layla blew out a breath, fidgeting. “Blake can be difficult.”

“Difficult how?” Willa asked, feeling concerned for her new friend slash Cookie Fairy.

Layla gave her a smile—one that Willa felt was a bit forced. “Let me worry about that.” She checked her watch. “I have to head to the hotel. Drop by at the end of the day and we can finalize everything. Yeah?”

Willa bit her lip, recognizing that she shouldn’t push her new friend. She felt a bit uneasy, but responded, “I’ll be there.”

“What did you cook today, Grams?” Shawn asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorway into the kitchen, sweet aromas basking over him.

Her white hair was windswept, like she’d spent the morning sitting out on the wharf before coming inside, putting on her “Queen of Damn Near Everything” apron, and cooking what looked to be an assortment of pies.

“It’s for the church bake sale, Scooby,” she said swiftly, not even turning around to look at him. “It’s on Wednesday and we’re raising money to install a ramp in the entrance. Lord knows, us old people can’t use stairs the way we used to.”

It had been a slow day at the bait shop, which had given Shawn enough time to agonize over how he’d put his foot in his mouth in front of Willa. He kept replaying their encounter last night in grave detail, trying and failing not to think too much about what it’d feel like to stuff her smart mouth with his cock. He felt like a creep for fantasizing about her when she clearly hated him. She brought something out of him—something idiotic and primal.

“Willa really liked those brownies last night, by the way,” Shawn said, attempting to seem casual.

He was anything but casual when it came to the groan she released as she licked her fingers clean of that brownie last night. Even the memory of it surged through him like she was right there, and his cock twitched uncomfortably in his pants as he thought about her sinful tongue. He couldn’t ever remember being this gone for a woman—let alone one he barely knew. He didn’t like it one bit, especially since she’d all but confessed there was no way she’d ever go out with anyone anytime soon after her breakup.

“Is that so?” Grams turned around, eyebrow lifted, both hands on her hips.

Shawn ducked his head, knowing he was caught.

“She remembered you,” Shawn said. “I think she’ll drop by at some point to say hello.”

“Well I’m not sure how anybody could forget me.” She grinned like a cat, expectation thick in the air. A few beats of silence passed. “Out with it, Scoob.”

He sighed. There was no hiding anything from her, so he might as well milk it.

“Any chance you could spare one of those pies?” he asked gruffly. “You know. For Willa.”

Grams pinched her lips together in poorly concealed amusement.

“I suppose you could take one of the pecan pies,” she conceded. “But it’ll cost you.”

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