“Are you really going to drop that line and walk away?” Phoebe huffs, her gray eyes dark and full of lust mixed with frustration.
“You aren’t going to cry over it, are you?”
“Only the good type of crying, like when you invest in quality toys.” She waves goodbye with a wink, going into the cabin and locking the door behind her before the meaning of her words sinks in.
“That was uncalled for, Curls!” I yell, pretty sure I hear laughter from inside.
Fucking idiot. I keep scolding myself and swearing under my breath as I make my way to the bike. She’s right, it’s time to bring back some Surfer Boy.
Chapter Seventeen
Phoebe
“Good morning.” Andy walks into my office and places a cup of coffee on my desk. “You look beautiful today.”
“Thank you, and it’s almost eleven.” I take a sip and finish typing my sentence before looking up at him, my heart skipping a beat when our eyes lock. “How was last night at Lola’s?”
“A bit crazy. We had some freshmen college girls from the city come in. Thought their fake IDs would fool us small-town folk.” He shrugs, sipping his own coffee. “Then they went on to try and get some of the post-grads to get them drinks. There was a whole scene.”
“I can imagine.” I scoff at the thought of a bunch of twenty-two-year-old frat boys trying to one-up Andy and Lola.
“Anyway, dickheads tried to impress the girls, and ended up making a bit of a mess. I only got home around two,” he informs me, finishing his story.
“That’s late for a mid-week at Lola’s.”
“Yeah, we had a lot of cleaning up to do.” He sighs. “How about you?”
“I worked until eleven, went for a run, then crashed,” I detail.
“No playtime?” He grins at me, wiggling his eyebrows.
Well, that taunt backfired. I stand with a sigh and walk over to my shelf, looking through it, not gracing him with an answer.
“Andy!” I squeal in a low voice when he circles my waist, pulling my back against his chest and nuzzling my neck.
“I missed you. It’s been two days since I saw you,” he mumbles against my skin and a shudder courses through me. “When do I get to kiss you again?”
“I am not kissing you in my office!” I hiss, though I still don’t make a move to push him off, because I kind of missed him as well.
“Gabe’s office,” he corrects, his lips brushing over that sensitive spot on my neck, and I have to bite back a moan.
“Not in anyone’s office.” I finally decide to wriggle free when I realize I’m three seconds away from jumping him on my—Gabe’s desk.
“Okay, I can wait until you’re done working.” And there’s that lopsided grin again, plus, he’s wearing one of those thin-fabric tight t-shirts that make his muscles bulge in the best way possible, and now I don’t want to kiss him, just lick him.
That’s weird. Sexy, but weird.
“This is not what I meant by bringing out the old Andy,” I mutter and push past him to my chair.
Andy leans his hip on my desk, still sporting a cocky grin. “Are we still training later?”
“I think you’re ready to spar,” I throw at him.
He walks over and leans down to my ear. “I can think of better ways to relieve all that pent-up tension.”
“Maybe I just want to smack that smug grin off your stupid face,” I grumble, my eyes fixed on my screen.
“Or kiss it off,” he suggests, and, while on the inside, I’m thinking that I would definitely want to do just that, outwardly, I roll my eyes.
“You’ve been training for what? Two months? Around the time I arrived at the Grove?” He nods. “Yeah, I can probably kick your ass in my six-inch heels.”
“You’re a tough sell, Curls,” Andy exclaims with a chuckle. “See you at six.”
“Don’t forget tomorrow morning the assessor is coming to sign off on the renovations,” I call after him, and he provides a two-fingered wave as a reply. “We need that final approval so the gang can stay at the inn over the weekend. Andy?”
But he’s already gone, and I slump in my chair with a huff of frustration, still thinking about how good it would feel to run my tongue over his washboard abs.
“Why is everything always so complicated?” I question the empty room.
“Right?” June pops her head in as if reading my mind. “I don’t have any Leanne cookies, but I got a box from Dalia’s.” I stretch out my arm in a give me motion. “You eat a lot of cookies, by the way.”
“Even ice queens need to indulge,” I answer dryly.
“You’re not an ice queen,” June objects with a high pitch snort and exaggerated gestures, earning a raised eyebrow as I chew on a snickerdoodle. “Okay, fine, you kinda are, but that doesn’t mean you’re not a good person.”
“Thank you.”
“It also doesn’t mean you need to torture Andrew,” she reasons.
“He peeped at me from the closet while I was in my underwear crying about how he broke my heart,” I fill her in, and June gapes at me.
“Make him pay!” she declares and stomps off back to reception.
“Another former Andrew fan, jaded by the arrival of our favorite city gal?” Gabe smirks as he waltzes into my—his office and plops down on the chair across from me. “We have a hearing in the city next week for the building.”
“June sent me the subpoena, put it on my agenda,” I assure him.
“I like what you’ve done with your office.” Gabe smiles as he scans his surroundings, filled with decorative items I’ve been finding at the market over the past few weeks, before picking up one of the photos on my desk. “You and your brother look nothing alike.”
“He’s adopted, remember?” I tap my nails against the desk. “And I thought this was your office.”
“I don’t know.” He shrugs and stands. “The other way around has a better ring to it, don’t you think?”
And with those departing words and a mysterious smile, he leaves.
“What is it with these people and beating around the bush?” I ask myself with an exasperated sigh.
But the sneaky bastard managed to plant the idea in my head, and now I’m wondering if maybe small-town life in Glassmont Grove isn’t exactly what I was looking for all along.
Andy
“Oh my fucking God, would you relax?” Gabe clips with impatience as I pace his office.
“He can’t,” June pops in with an explanation. “Phoebe’s friends flew in today for her birthday weekend. He’s freaking out.” That girl… Sometimes I wonder if she has super hearing or a sixth sense or something.
“I know that. I just think he’s overreacting,” Gabe replies, and June nods in agreement.
“Oh, for sure,” she affirms Gabe’s notion, and I stop my pacing to glare at him.
“You’re one to talk. You’ve been whining about Leanne coming for the weekend for over two weeks,” I remind him.