Page 21 of No More Love Songs

“Coffee?” he asks, offering me a cup.

“Always,” I accept.

“Had a feeling.” He takes a drink of his own, but I can tell by the way the corners of his eyes crinkle, he’s smiling again.

Only takes a quick look to see he remembered how I had it this morning in Grayson’s kitchen. Then the first sip confirms it. “So good,” I sigh. “Thank you.”

“Cream and two sugars, right?”

“Exactly.” I don’t flatter myself too much over the gesture. I’ve been waited on enough in my life to know it’s second nature to those who work in hospitality to remember these things. “You know, if you keep this up, I’m going to be so spoiled I’ll feel neglected when other guests show up and I’m no longer getting all this one-on-one attention.”

“Oh, you definitely don’t want to get used to this treatment,” he assures me, even while smirking. “In fact, Gray told me you were an easy keeper and not to bother with formalities. So, after today I fully expect you to make your own coffee and basically just act like you live here.” He tips his head slightly, full-on grinning now. “Which I hear you’re good at.”

“Wow.” Called out by my best friend long distance. I don’t know whether to be impressed or offended.

Apparently my one-word response says it all, because he turns his head, nodding a trail leading away from the house and into the woods. “Up for a little walk?”

When I don’t answer right away, he adds, “You know, just so you have an idea of the lay of the land tomorrow when I completely abandon you to do your own thing.”

I bug my eyes out at him dramatically. “In that case I guess I better say yes.”

Coffees in hand, we start for the small trail and before long we’re surrounded by gorgeous, tall pine trees on either side of us. The smell alone is the best thing I’ve inhaled in a while. Well, not counting this coffee. Actually, the combination is really working for me.

“Ari finishing her paper?” I ask after we’ve been walking for a while.

“Probably not.” He lets out a quiet laugh. “She has to get distracted at least seven times before she can focus.”

“She’s got that creative brain, I see.” I’m familiar with the problem.

“Apparently.” He grimaces. “Can’t imagine where she gets it.”

“Yeah. Definitely a mystery.” Silly and sarcastic. I wouldn’t have pegged Kit Morgan for either, scruffy mountain man and all. But then I suppose he’s surprised me a few times already in the short time I’ve known him. “Speaking of mysteries, is there a secret spot on this trail I should revisit while trying to unveil the mysteries of my own soul during my stay here?”

“You think I’m sharing my secret spots with you?” He sounds outraged at the thought. You know, in the silly and sarcastic way.

“Are those not included in my stay here? Like dessert?” I give him my best effort at doe eyes. They’ve never been my strength, deer being associated with vulnerability and fear, and me not being particularly keen on being perceived as having either. Until now. Vulnerability seems like it might go a long way here, even if it’s clearly not genuine.

“Nope.” Cold hearted. That’s what Kit Morgan is. Cold. Hearted. “Unless-” Cold hearted, and a tease.

“Unless?”

“Unless you earn my trust.” He quickly glances at me sideways but keeps his focus mostly on the trail ahead. “If you want to know my secrets, you have to prove you’re worthy of them.”

“That seems fair.” And easy. I’m totally trustworthy. “How do you want to do this? Want to tell me something totally embarrassing and see if I can keep from telling Gray? Or maybe you want to hear one of my secrets? Like an exchange?” That would be easy. I don’t really have any secrets. Anyone who’s ever listened to my lyrics will attest to this.

Judging by the look he gives me, he knows this too. “No, no secret exchange and definitely no embarrassing stories”

“Then what?”

“I get to ask you three questions and you have to answer them honestly.”

“That’s not even a challenge,” I scoff. “Honesty is kind of a big thing for me.”

“I know.” He smirks. “You’re an open book,” he pauses to look at me, “as long as you get to pick the title.”

“Hm.” I narrow my eyes at him. “I’m not sure I like where this is going.”

“Do you want my secret spots or not?”

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