Page 20 of The Love Wager

“Not exactly how I saw our first kiss going,” he adds.

“Same. Considering I never thought we’d have one at all with how you acted last night.”

“I thought that was water under the bridge?”

“Oh, it is! But now, I’m curious. When were you picturing this first kiss? Was it when you yelled at me to get off your precious bar?” I close the space between us. “Maybe when you threatened to throw me out?”

His thick arm bands around my waist, pulling me into his chest. My hands slap flat against his hard pecks, the fabric of his shirt sopping wet with rain.

“Anyone ever tell you that you talk too much?” he grumbles.

Before I can answer, his lips are on mine again, this time soft and sweet and much more aligned with how I expected him to kiss. It’s a foot-popping, skin-tingling, head-spinning kiss by the time he pulls back.

He steps away and makes for the stairs back into the rain. “Dinner tonight. I’ll pick you up at six. Wear something casual,” he calls, walking backward to his truck.

I’m stuck in place, mouth agape at the wink he shoots me before turning and climbing back into his truck out of the rain.

Shit, I might just be in trouble.

By the time I shake free from my stupor and make it back to my room, I’m caked in drying mud and in desperate need ofa shower. I only have two hours to wash away the unexpected spa treatment and find something cute and casual to wear that doesn’t look like I tried too hard to piece it together.

I’m just slipping into my boots to head downstairs and wait for Brooks when there’s a knock at the door.

“Just a second,” I call out.

Shouldering my purse, I snag the bag full of my soiled clothes for dry cleaning off the mattress and head to the door.

“Thank you so much,” I say as I open the door.

Instead of housekeeping as I expected, bright blue eyes peer down at me with a quirked eyebrow.

“You’re welcome?” he questions.

“You’re not housekeeping.”

“Not anymore, anyway.”

Now I’m the one confused.

“I used to fill in when my aunt needed extra bodies for busy weekends,” he explains, and it reminds me that I wanted to ask him about her. “We can drop that off at the front desk on our way out.” He grabs the bag from my hand and closes the hotel door behind me before ushering me toward the stairs.

“Has this always been a family business?”

“My aunt, Ruth, who you met, and her older sister, Mary, used to house families traveling through town. This place was my great grandparents’ farm, and they left it to Mary when she didn’t marry.

Aunt Mary passed away about ten years ago now, but Aunt Ruth’s been carrying it on with the help of her kids. She may be getting up there in years, but the woman has never rested a day in her life. My dad was too busy with the bar to offer much help in running the place, but he did most of the renovations in the late sixties to turn it into a full-fledged inn. The upgrades you’re enjoying today are thanks to me and Nick.”

“Wow, I guess having a big family comes in handy. It must have been great growing up with all of them around.”

He pauses at the front desk, tapping the bell, even though his aunt is sitting in her chair, staring straight at us.

“Boy, don’t make me box your ears.”

“You’d have to catch me first, Auntie.”

“Watch that lip, or you’ll regret it when I catch up.”

Watching their banter warms my heart. I had nothing like that growing up. It was just me and mom. And our relationship was more friendship than the typical mother-daughter hierarchy.

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