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I merely snort in response and turn my back on him, walking back to my bedroom while feeling his heated stare on my ass, which I know is barely covered by my panties.
Oh, well… let him look and suffer knowing what he missed out on.
I throw on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt over my tank, and by the time I make it back out into the kitchen, I see Hunter working the coffee pot. I take a seat at the table and when he gets the brew going, he turns around and leans back against the counter, resting his hands on the edge.
“So… you made a few suggested changes to the design plans. I’ve been thinking about them and wanted to hear more about your ideas. ”
I stare at him just a moment, trying to determine if he’s just humoring me or really wants to know, but I can’t figure him out… apparently never could… so I get up, grab my leather satchel briefcase that’s laying in the living room, and take out the plans.
Spreading them out on the table, I point to the area that comes off the back of the restaurant. Hunter pushes away from the counter and comes up to stand beside me. His nearness is disconcerting, and I have to concentrate so that my words come out with assurance.
“The architect wants to build a completely enclosed area on your deck. This will require new sub-flooring, frame, and sheetrock, not to mention you’re losing your deck. I mean… come on. We’ve lived our entire life on the beach. Everyone wants to sit out on the deck and enjoy the ocean view, right?”
“Agreed,” Hunter says. “But I need more room. More tables means more customers, which means more money. ”
“I agree with that,” I concur. “But I think you should build out your existing deck, and then just cover a portion of it with a roof. Leave the walls open with retractable walls that you can open up during the warm months, and close off during the cool. You can put out portable heaters rather than installing an HVAC system. Those changes will give you more space than originally planned, as well as cheaper building costs. ”
“Do you have those numbers broken down?”
I nod and grab my binder, flipping to the cost-comparison spreadsheet I worked up. I show him the figures of what it would cost to build out as proposed by the architect, and the savings doing it my way. Flipping to the next page, I show him my calculations for the increased capacity it will seat, so he can get an idea of the growth in potential revenue my design will bring him. Hunter bends over and starts reviewing the numbers, so I busy myself by pouring two cups of coffee, bringing them over to the table.
He studies the numbers thoughtfully, rubbing his finger across his chin in concentration. It draws my attention to the scruffy beard on his face. It’s not quite a full-grown beard, but it’s a bit more than a five o’clock shadow. For as long as I can remember, Hunter has always kept some sort of scruffy facial hair. It’s a surfer thing for sure, and also a lazy thing. He once told Casey when she teased him about it that he hated to shave. I hate to admit, but it’s part of what makes him incredibly sexy, that he looks just so windblown and raw all the time.
Hunter turns his gaze to me, and I have to quickly move my eyes to his so he doesn’t know I was carefully studying his face. “This is really impressive, Gabby. Your dad would be really proud. ”
Oh, f**k, the man knows how to hit me below the belt. He gave me a one-two punch, first by calling me Gabby and not Gabs, which told me he was not joking. Second, he used my kryptonite against me… my love for my dad and the sincere need to make the business he started successful.
I swallow hard to get past the lump of emotion sitting in my throat, but my voice is still raspy when I say, “Thanks. That means a lot. ”
Hunter just stares at me. I return it, and for a second… we’re having a moment. It’s personal, electric, and for one crazy, fleeting second, I feel like we are back five years ago in that time just before we kissed. If Hunter even leans toward me slightly, I’m afraid I might just accidentally topple onto his lips.
Instead, Hunter pulls me back to reality when he says, “The job is yours if you want it. And I want to implement your changes. ”
Shaking my head slightly from the shock, I ask with disbelief, “It’s mine?”
His smile is warm. “Yup. If you want it. ”
I can’t even think of words to say at first, but then I snap out of it. “I do… I want it, of course. Thank you. ”
“Good. Let’s plan on meeting tomorrow to talk about when you can start, and the timetable for the project. Now… I’m off to hit the surf. ”
Hunter picks up the cup of coffee I had brought him and gives me a last, long look before heading toward the door, taking my cup with him. When he turns the knob, he glances back at me and his voice is husky. “Oh, and Gabs… I really, really enjoyed seeing you in your pajamas this morning. ”
My mouth sort of just falls open, stunned that he would jump from professional business talk to some steamy flirting. It takes me a moment to compose myself.
Narrowing my eyes, I ask, “So… I really have the job? That’s set in stone, right?”
He looks at me curiously. “Right. ”
“Good. Then let me tell you. . . stop the flirting, jackass. I’m not interested. ”
Surprise spreads wide over Hunter’s face, and then he throws his head back and starts laughing. When he tilts his eyes back on mine, he says, “Good one, Gabs. You keep saying that if it makes you feel better. ”
Before I can even respond, he’s out the door and shutting it softly behind him.
4
“I just opened up the last case of Jack Daniels, and you’re running low on Grey Goose,” Brody says as I push the pitcher of draft beer I just poured across the bar to a customer. He hands me a ten-dollar bill and tells me to keep the change.
Thanks, ass**le… the pitcher is ten bucks!
I turn around to the cash register and ring up the sale, sliding the money in the drawer. Turning to Brody, I nod. “I’ve got it ordered. Should be delivered on Monday. ”
“Hopefully what we have will last through the weekend. It’s been busy the last few nights. ”
I smile, because yeah… business is better than I thought it would be and I’m starting to feel more comfortable about the expansions, particularly with the summer season just around the corner. It’s been a learning curve to say the least, trying to figure out how long my stock will last and ordering appropriately from the distributors, who only do deliveries in our area once a week.
“If we get too low, I can run over to the ABC store and buy a couple of bottles. ”
Brody doesn’t even bother to respond and moves to the other end of the bar to take the orders from two girls that approach. They look young… maybe too young to be served, but I watch as Brody cards them. They flirt and giggle, but he doesn’t even spare them a glance as he hands the IDs back and turns to make their drinks.
Sighing, I reach over to the flat of pint glasses that were just washed in the kitchen and start stacking them in the cooler to chill. Brody is still just as withdrawn as he was the day he walked out of prison, but he seems to be handling himself okay. I mean, he’s not exactly effervescent with the customers, but he doesn’t seem to piss them off, and he does his job well. He’s just so damn quiet that I want to shake him sometimes and tell him, “Get over it. You’re back in the real world. Enjoy it. ”
But I immediately feel like shit for even thinking such things, because I can’t even begin to imagine how tough it has been for him. I had a nightmare the other night about Brody in jail, getting beaten up by a gang. They held him down, kicking and punching him. I woke up, thankful the nightmare had been interrupted, and terrified of what else I might have seen had I let the dream go on. Brody has never talked about what life was like behind bars, and I haven’t asked him. I’m not sure I really want to know.
I look up and down the bar. Everyone seems to have full drinks, so I take a moment and lean back against the counter, pulling my iPhone out. I check my emails, but there is not
hing new since I last checked only about an hour ago.
It’s pathetic of me, but I’m hoping to get an email from Gabby. She was supposed to meet with me the day after I went to her apartment to give her the job, but I woke up that morning to find an email from her. It basically said there was no need to meet, that if I would just tell her what day I wanted her to start, and what hours she could have access to the building, then she would handle getting everything coordinated. This started an email exchange between us, ironing out the details and setting the start date for next Monday. My last email to her yesterday had asked when she could come by and get a key to the building, but I haven’t heard back from her.
Yes, I want to see her badly after that morning in her apartment, but she’s effectively cut me off at the knees. The image of her standing there in that tight tank with her ni**les poking through and her barely there panties was burned solidly into my brain. I can hardly close my eyes without seeing her like that, and I’m having a hard time shaking it.
Over the years, I had seen Gabby in her bathing suit more times than I can remember, and while, as she got older, I had a vague appreciation for the beauty of her body, I never obsessed about it like this.
And now?
I really want to see what’s underneath, which has me groaning at myself over the absurdity of it.
It can’t happen, and let me tell you why.
First, there’s the fact that she’s Casey’s childhood friend and someone who I viewed as a little sister for many years.
But you don’t view her like that now, my subconscious pipes up.
Shut the f**k up, I tell my subconscious.
Second, Gabby is clearly so angry with me that she’d never entertain the thought of… of…
Well, hell… I’m not even sure what I’m entertaining. Do I just want to sleep with her, or do I want something more? Because if it’s something more, am I even ready for that?
It’s all moot anyway. I can’t seem to make it past my first concern, so there… no need to even to think about it further. She’s like a little sister, so she’s off limits. It’s done. I’m putting her out of my mind, and I vow to myself that I won’t even think about her the rest of the night.
“Hey, Hunter. Thought I’d come by and pick up the key from you. ”
I close my eyes briefly and mutter a curse, because just like that… I’m thinking of Gabby. Hard not to… what with her sexy-as-fuck voice coming from just off to my left somewhere. Opening my eyes slowly, I wipe any expression from my face and turn to face her.
Son of a bitch!
She looks like a wet dream. Her body is poured into a tight, black minidress, and she’s rocking some ass-kicking stilettos. Her hair is loose and wavy around her face, pouring over her tanned shoulders and spilling down her back. I want to wrap my hand in it and pull her toward me, which causes me to internally curse myself for those thoughts.
It’s then that I notice her roommate, Savannah, standing behind her, along with Alyssa Myers. I smile and nod at them, then turn my attention back to Gabby.
“You’re awful dressed up to pick up a key,” I tell her.
She gives me a cautious smile. “Well… it is Friday night… time to let loose. We’re headed out to a nightclub over in Kitty Hawk but thought we’d come have a few drinks here to start out. Savannah’s DD tonight. ”
“Well… you look really nice. Beautiful, actually. ”
Gabby looks at me like I sprouted an extra head, as if I’ve never paid her a true compliment before, but before she can respond, her attention goes to something behind me. Turning, I see Brody grabbing some orange juice out of the refrigerator.
“Hey, Brody,” Gabby says. I notice him flinch slightly as he turns to look at her but she steps up closer to the bar. “How you been?”
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