Unbidden, his mind flashed to Naomi’s cute little bungalow at the edge of town. Not that he was thinking of asking her if he could stay there—he liked the woman just fine, and her bed had been incredibly comfortable, but that was taking things a bit far. No, what he needed was a little cottage of his own. Someplace he could stretch out and think. Someplace he didn’t have to feel guilty for coming in late or walking in on the housekeeper folding his drawers. Somewhere he could invite a certain dark-haired beauty to spend the night if he wanted.
But before that could happen, he’d need to convince her to see him again. They hadn’t discussed their two amazing hook-ups, but Iain knew a person who wanted to keep things casual when he saw one—mostly because Naomi’s attitude thus far mirrored his own exactly. No promises of tomorrow, no declarations of intent … just incredible, toe-curling sex followed by a “see you when I see you” mentality. They weren’t friends, not exactly, and yet for all of his carefree approach to relationships, he wouldn’t mind actually being friends with Naomi. Friends who occasionally fucked. Okay, friends who frequently fucked, because as much as he thought he’d enjoy hanging out and having real conversations with her, he couldn’t deny he’d probably enjoy sleeping with her more.
In fact, he wouldn’t mind meeting up for round three, if she was amenable.
Iain flipped through the contacts on his phone before he realized he didn’t have her number. Shit. He could probably get it from Noah, but that might be weird. He didn’t particularly care to explain how he’d left a business meeting without getting a potential contractor’s phone number. He scratched his head and tried to figure out a way to get in touch with her. He supposed he could send her an email, but that assumed she’d see it and read it immediately. He had far too much excess energy to sit around waiting on that. Opening Google, he searched for NK Designs, hoping she had a website with a contact number listed. Bingo! Pressing his finger to the number, he brought the phone to his ear and listened to it ring on the other end.
After six long trills, her voicemail clicked on. This is NK Designs. Leave a message after the tone, and I’ll return your message within twenty-four hours. It was obviously a business line, not her cell.
Iain jabbed the red ’end call’ button and shoved his phone into his back pocket. He might not know how to get ahold of Naomi, but he couldn’t sit in his room stewing any longer. Sure, he’d promised himself he would finish off his bottle of bourbon, but that wouldn’t solve his problems any more than hanging up on his father would have. It might be too early to get drunk on booze, but there were no similar rules about sugar. Grabbing the keys to his rental off the small table located just inside his door, he spun them around his finger and made his way outside to the small blue Toyota he’d rented for the duration.
Ten minutes later he pulled up outside The Breadery, the bakery in the middle of River Hill known for both its bread and its pastries. Surveying the tarts and cakes on display in the front window for a couple of seconds, Iain pulled the door open. As the bell overhead chimed, he came to an immediate stop, a broad smile spreading across his lips. Sitting on a long wooden bench running along the side of the waiting area was a woman he knew tasted far better than any cake or cookie. And she looked good enough to eat.