Page 22 of Resisting the Grump

He raised his palms as if to surrender. “Okay. Fair point. Let’s imagine, hypothetically, that I want to sleep with you.”

“What if someone finds out and suggests we didn’t really deserve to win the Star Baker award?”

He recoiled. “Is the baking world really that cutthroat?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Even so,” he said, his intense gaze studying me. “You don’t really care about that, do you?”

“Actually, my best—boss—has been trying to win that plaque for six years. So yeah. I do care.”

“I see.”

See what? God it was hot in here all of a sudden.

“Are you in the habit of broadcasting who you sleep with?” he asked.

“No.”

“Good,” he said. “Me neither.”

“But what if it doesn’t end well?” I asked, and you end up being another irredeemable asshole who takes advantage of me. “And you write something nasty about the café?”

His brows drew together. “Do you really think I’m that petty?”

“I have no idea how petty you are. All I know is that you’re in the fault-finding business, and I’m happily retired from that way of moving through the world.”

“You’ve obviously given this some thought.”

My stomach sank when I realized I’d probably already put the café at risk by rejecting him. And if he was going to destroy us anyway, shouldn’t I at least get laid? I shook the thought from my mind as quickly as I had it. Yes, my best friend was loved up in Paris with her soulmate, and I hadn’t been on a date in months. But Oliver Harrington?! I’d be asking for trouble!

The bookworm in the corner slurped down the last of his soda and stuffed his book in his briefcase loudly enough that Oliver looked over his shoulder at him. We were less than thirty seconds away from being alone, and the thought made my heart race and my body clench all over.

I took a deep breath as the bell rang over the door, and when Oliver turned back around, he used his shovel hands to twist the cap off the orange soda in front of him. “What’s your name?” he asked, lifting the bottle halfway to his lips.

“Avery.”

“Seems you’ve got me all figured out, Avery.”

I held my ground.

“But I’ve got your number, too.”

“What’s your point?” I asked, wondering if he was as cut under his blue dress shirt as he looked.

“My point is, I’ve wanted to sleep with you since the moment I saw you.”

My lower body surged, and it took all the strength I could muster to keep from squirming.

“But I think there’s more to you than your beautiful face and banging body, which is why I didn’t come here to invite you to my bedroom. I asked you to dinner. Because you have to eat anyway, and I can tell by the way you squirm in your clothes around me that you aren’t as put off by my company as you’re pretending.”

Shit. “I’m not dating right now,” I admitted weakly.

“It’s not a date. It’s dinner. And you have to eat anyway.”

I glanced towards the plaque in the window, remembering the sparkle in Grace’s proud eyes when she won it.

“And no matter what happens, I promise I won’t let it influence my opinion of your best boss’s café.”

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