Page 21 of The Invitation
“I’m a grown-up who can fix his own breakfast. And you were sleeping too peacefully to bother.”
“Let’s get you some food,” she says. “Do you want to eat, Georgia?”
“Yeah. Let’s head in. I’m baking out here, anyway.”
Jeremiah wraps a hand around her and leads her to the house … leaving Ripley and me behind.
“For the record, I had no idea you were going to be here,” Ripley says, his gaze raking down my body as I stand.
I flash him the dirtiest look I can muster.One that could freeze hell. I’m sure he renders women speechless when he appreciates their bodies, but not me. I couldn’t give a shit if he likes what he sees or not.
But, if he wants to look, I’ll give him a show … and then embarrass him for it.
I bend slowly to grab my tumbler, the weight of his attention heavy on my ass.So predictable.
“Staring is rude, Mr. Brewer,” I say.
“It’s kind of hard to miss.”
I gasp, spinning around to face him. My face flushes in embarrassment. “And exactly what is that supposed to mean?”
“What do you think it means?”
“If it means what I think it means, you can fuck off.”
He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “It means your ass was in my face with a scrap of fabric barely covering anything. What do you want me to do?”
“Not making assholish comments about it would be an excellent start.”
“I …no. Nope. I’m not going there.” He grinds his teeth together and shakes his head. A growl rumbles through the air. “You could literally turn anything into an argument.”
“I’m not sure what sort of a reply you were after when you basically insinuated that my ass was so big you couldn’t ignore it.” My eyes narrow. “Does that angle work for you with other women? Or were you simply trying to be a dick?”
He squares his shoulder to mine and peers down at me. His eyes are lasered in on my face, making me gasp from the intensity.
“Orlet’s try this,” he says, lifting a brow cockily. “What reaction wereyouafter when you intentionally bent over in front of me? Just kidding. I don’t have to ask. Iknowthat gets men’s attention. So am I right to think you were trying to get mine?”
You bastard. I ball my free hand at my side.
“Oh, did I hit a nerve?” His soft voice is mocking. Amusement dances across his stupidly handsome face. “Did you get called out for wanting—practically begging—for my attention?”
“Please,” I say. “If you want to know the truth, I thinkyouwantedmyattention, and that’s why you were staring,which, may I add, doesn’t really jive with your fake I’m-such-a-gentleman persona. You should work on that.”
My heart pounds as sweat from the heat, anger, and a little embarrassment trickles down my chest.
I’m most angry that the fucker is right—I did want his attention. The problem is that he thinks I wanted it because I think it’s a trophy.The great Ripley Brewer likes my ass. And while that is asmall, tinyfeather in my cap, that wasn’t the reason for my actions.
I wanted to have the upper hand.
“There are many things I need to work on, Miss Hayes, but mygentleman personais not one of them.” He rolls his head around his shoulders. “I should’ve turned around and left as soon as I saw you.”
“Why didn’t you?” I bring my tumbler to my lips. “Would’ve been doing us both a favor.”
His jaw flexes as he watches me take a sip of my water. The fire in his eyes is met with the inferno in mine.
“You’re right,” he says.
I drop my drink to my side, flabbergasted he admitted that so easily.
