Page 33 of Resisting the Grump

“That whole spiel about how I’d have to wonder about you forever if I didn’t come?”

“You would’ve, though,” he said, his eyes locking on mine. “Besides, you were wondering about me anyway.”

“How do you figure?” I asked, since denying it would be a lie.

“Oh, come on. You don’t think I was actually fooled by your reserved professionalism following the festival?”

“Careful now. I’ve been looking for evidence all night that you’re not the cocky jerk you portray yourself to be in the papers.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“What’s the verdict?”

“The jury’s still out.”

“All men are jerks, Avery, until they meet the right woman.”

I stared at him, the truth of his words landing like an anvil on my chest.

“Don’t look so shocked. A smart woman like you has surely suspected as much all along.”

It took all my strength and self-preservation instincts to keep my mind from recalling my dating history. “Does that mean if I’m not the right woman for you, this is all going to end in you being a jerk?”

“Wouldn’t that be easier?”

“How would that be easier?” I asked.

“Because it’s easier to get over people who are horrible to you.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Don’t worry,” he said. “That’s not how this story ends.”

“How does it end?”

“It’s a surprise,” he said.

I cocked my head.

“For me, too,” he said, leaning back.

I rolled my eyes.

“But I have a good feeling I’m not going to do anything that would make it easy for you to get over me.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“Because I think I’d prefer to have you under me.”

I sighed. “So much for being the perfect gentleman.”

“I have been the perfect gentleman,” he said. “And I’ll continue to be because you deserve nothing less.”

“And you think that excuses the filth?”

He leaned across the table, his eyes darkening when they met mine. “Gentlemen are just as filthy as scoundrels. The difference is that gentlemen remember to put fun and flirtation first.”

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