Page 76 of Could Have Been Us
That doesn’t sound too bad. Then I remember that Stella, when mischievous, can be a handful.
I narrow my eyes slightly. “Why do I not trust this?”
She grins. “Because you’re a smart man, Jack O’Donnell. A very smart man.”
Chapter 22
Stella
The last five days have passed like a whirlwind. I’ve been meeting with all kinds of designers and contractors and people who I had no idea existed but all needed a meeting.
It’s crazy how much shit my father went through to get each inn up and running. Now it’s our turn, which means it’s mostly me doing it because my brothers are handling other things, like talking to possible buyers in case my father doesn’t come up with the money. Jacob Arrowood agreed to invest if we needed him to, but my brothers and I decided he would be our last resort.
Today, though, is partial research and partial retribution for Jack dragging me camping.
Jack’s car pulls into my driveway, and I grab my things to meet him out front. If he comes inside, chances are we’ll end up naked and miss the appointment.
When in the car, leaning over to kiss him, his eyes sparkle with curiosity. “Where are we going?”
I could tell him, but turnabout is fair play. I grab his phone and punch in the address. “Follow the GPS.”
“I really don’t have a good feeling about this.”
I grin, leaning my head back. “Trust me.”
“Oh, I trust that I’m going to be in big trouble.”
“You’re being a baby.”
He tilts his head, giving me a warning glance. “A baby?”
“I didn’t know where we were going on my date, and I didn’t cry about it. Hell, I hiked! I slept in the damn woods, for Christ’s sake.”
Jack lets out a low groan and puts the car in reverse.
The drive isn’t long, and we chat about the last few days and what’s going on with his end of the Firefly Resort. We all felt it was best to use the same contractors to do all aspects of the property, so Jack is working on his requests for his space. Joshua believes the larger bid will keep the contractors incentivized to finish the work on time and I think he’s right.
When the directions tell him to turn right, I have to work hard to hide my glee.
He is going to kill me, and I can’t wait.
“What the hell is this?”
“It’s a spa.”
“A spa?”
“Yes.”
Jack glances at me with horror clear on his face. “You’re taking me to a spa? Do I look like I do spa things?”
I look him over, pretending to ponder the question. “You look like youneedto do spa things. What is with those eyebrows? There should be two.”
His fingers grip the wheel, and I grin. “I knew better than to trust you.”
I roll my eyes. “You made me pee outside . . . where I could’ve died . . . from a bear attack. Each time you want to gripe about a spa, let’s remember that, shall we?”
Jack grumbles under his breath about women and love.
