“Thanks.” I stood and followed him back inside to the kitchen island, where three pizza boxes sat. “Are you expecting company?”
“No. Why?”
“That’s just tons of pizza for one person.” Even if he assumed I hadn’t eaten yet, three large pizzas were a lot for even two people.
“Oh.” He shrugged. “I always order extra and leave some down in the staff lounge.”
Maybe I’d read him wrong. I was still pissed that he’d demanded I come up here two weeks earlier than planned, but his actions weren’t those of a self-centered jerk. Maybe he truly felt like he needed the help and couldn’t handle it another week.
“Whatever we don’t eat, I’ll take downstairs. If you hadn’t eaten yet, I wanted you to have choices.”
“I like any type of pizza.” Did I look like someone who would be picky about food? Not that I planned on asking him that. But seriously, my thick thighs and generous ass should have been a clear giveaway.
He handed me a plate and listed the toppings of all three pizzas.
“So many good choices.” I stepped up to the island, eyeing the options before finally going with a slice of meat lovers and a slice of ham with pineapple.
“Do you want a glass of wine?” Wyatt asked. “I have Merlot and Riesling.”
“Sure. Riesling is good.”
He set two glasses on the granite island and turned, pulling a bottle from the small wine cooler that sat on the counter.
“Would you like to eat on the balcony?” he asked as he poured the golden-colored liquid into glasses.
“Oh, um, sure.” I flinched at how awkward that sounded. Why did his presence evoke some tongue-tied version of me? “I mean, don’t feel like you have to eat with me. You don’t have to entertain me or anything. I don’t want to be in your way or?—”
He crowded my space, and suddenly, I couldn’t speak. His woodsy cologne overtook my senses, and his piercing green eyes stayed locked on me. I swallowed as he leaned closer and rested his hand on the island next to me. He was so close I could make out a small, faded scar on the outer part of his right eyebrow.
“You’re my guest and you’re not in my way. I don’t do anything unless I want to, and tonight I would love to sit and get to know you.”
I shifted and my arm brushed his thumb, sending a myriad of sensations shooting through my body and straight to my core. My traitorous body must have missed the memo that this guy was now my boss. Completely off-limits.
He studied me before a smirk lifted his lips. “I feel like we got off on the wrong foot, and I’d like to make up for that.”
I forced a chuckle through my lips. “You mean by demanding I drop everything and start early?”
He raised an eyebrow. “No. That part I’m not apologizing for. I needed you here early. No way was I gonna be able to handle Bridezilla.” He stepped back out of my space and grabbed the wineglasses. “But I shouldn’t have threatened to take away the job offer if you couldn’t get here.” Well, yes, that part was a dick move. “So, balcony?”
“Sounds good.” Maybe the crisp ocean air would help to cool my now heated body back to normal.
For the first ten minutes we filled the space between bites of our pizza with small talk. I took my last bite and pushed the plate away, relaxing back in my chair and sipping my wine. I wondered if he spent a lot of time in the hotel as a kid.
“What was it like growing up here?”
He chuckled. “Fun for me. Probably a nightmare for my grandparents.”
My brows pulled together as I looked over at him. “Why?”
“I was a handful.” He studied me as his lips lifted. “The first couple of years I lived here, it was more stuff like hiding in the housekeepers’ carts to scare them. Running up and down the hallways. Escaping my nannies. But as I got a little older, it became breaking things and outright defiance. There was a year there when Paul, our driver—the one who picked you up from the airport today—threatened more than once to quit if I didn’t get my act together.”
“What changed?”
He shrugged. “Overheard a heated conversation between my grandparents and realized losing Paul wouldn’t only suck for me—because he was one of my favorite people—but it would causeunnecessary stress on my grandmother. So I tried harder not to be such a dick.”
I brought my wineglass to my mouth, hiding a smirk behind the rim. “How’s that going for you?”
“You’re here, aren’t you?”