Page 57 of My Temptation (Kingston Lane)

“Wait downstairs,” I reply.

“No, I’m good.” He stands beside Joel and looks around the bedroom, legs wide, with his dominance overpowering the room.

Joel scribbles on his notepad, and I can tell that Henley has rattled him. “I think that should do me,” Joel says as he makes for the stairs. “I’ll call you tomorrow, and we can discuss.”

“Or you could just be professional and email her,” Henley says from the top of the stairs.

I bite the side of my mouth to stop myself from smiling as I follow Joel down the stairs.

He’s jealous.

Joel glances up at Henley, and I see him come to the same conclusion. “I’ll be doing that after our discussion,” he fires back. “So what colors are we thinking, Juliet?” Joel asks me.

“I really like white, but then I want it warm, so perhaps cream would be a better option?” I shrug. “What do you think?”

“I’m going to make some mood boards up for you, and we can really dive deep into the essence of the property.”

I glance up and see Henley roll his eyes in an overexaggerated way.

“Fantastic.” I smile as I open the front door. “Thank you so much for coming.”

“It was really great to meet you, Juliet.” He shakes my hand; he glances over to Henley as he stands on my stairs. “Henley.”

“Goodbye, Joel.” Henley smiles sarcastically.

I close the door behind Joel, and I turn toward Henley, who is standing halfway up the stairs. “What are you doing?”

“Walking down the stairs.”

“No, you’re not. You are trying to annoy me. That’s what you’re doing, and let me tell you—it’s working.”

He holds his hand out in surrender. “What?”

I walk into my kitchen and flick the kettle on. “What did you want to see me about?” I snap.

“I came to talk about Saturday night.”

I frown, confused. “What about Saturday night?”

“The wedding.”

“You’re not coming to the wedding,” I scoff.

“Yes, I am. Debbie invited me.”

“You don’t even know Debbie.”

“It would be rude of me not to go after I said I would.”

“No.”

“I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“You don’t have good behavior, Henley, let alone best.” I hold up a coffee cup. “You’ve perfected assholism, remember?”

“Got any wine?”

“No,” I snap. “Do you want coffee or not?”

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