Page 17 of Only for the Season
I scream and grab a weapon as I whirl around to confront him.
Jeremy chuckles. “What are you going to do with a pastry brush? Brush me with butter?”
I frown at the pastry brush. I thought I’d grabbed my rolling pin. A rolling pin can do some damage. Trust me. You don’t want a rolling pin to the skull.
“What in the name of Kraken are you doing in here?”
He lifts a brow. “Kraken?”
“Do you not know what a Kraken is? Gigantic tentacled beast feared for its ability to engulf entire ships and cause deadly whirlwinds?”
“I wasn’t expecting to be compared to a mythical sea creature this morning.”
I start to explain how Krakens aren’t mythical but then I realize I have more important questions. “Why are you in my kitchen? What makes you think you can just waltz right inside here?”
Typical billionaire behavior. They think they can do whatever they want because they have money. News flash. Not everyone is impressed with money.
“Sorry. I did knock but you must not have heard me.” He pauses but when I don’t admit to being too loud to hear a knock, he continues, “I tried the door and it was unlocked.”
“And you thought, ‘Hey! A woman working alone in her kitchen won’t mind if a strange man shows up’.”
“I’m not a strange man. We’ve met before. I’m Eli’s friend.”
I could tell him how most women are murdered by men they know but let’s face it, facts won’t make a difference to this man.
“What do you want?” I check the time. “At six in the morning.”
He flinches a bit at my comment on time. Shocker. Does the billionaire actually have a conscious?
“I …um…” He stuffs his hands in his pockets. “Heard you have a loft for rent.”
“I seriously doubt my loft is good enough for a billionaire to stay in.”
He shrugs. “As long as there are no babies around, I’m good.”
I purse my lips. “What kind of man hates babies?”
“I don’t hate babies.”
I snort. “And I don’t love chocolate and have the hips to prove it.”
His gaze dips to my hips and his eyes flare. Whoa. Flare? My chronic lack of sleep must be causing hallucinations. No way billionaire Jeremy’s eyes flared when he looked at my hips.
He blows out a breath. “Seriously. I don’t hate babies. But I do need to work and Stephanie has colic.”
I motion toward the mess in the kitchen. “I doubt I’m any quieter than Stephanie.”
“As long as you’re not baking at 2 a.m., we won’t have a problem.”
“I have been known to bake at 2 a.m. before.”
He flicks a hand in dismissal. “Baking won’t bother me.”
Screw the smugglers! Can’t he buy a hint?
“I only rent by the month in the off-season.” It’s a lie, but the idea of having this man who my hormones want to throw a party for in close proximity is a bit more than my poor brain can handle.
“A month sounds good. In fact, let’s say until the end of the year.”
