I hung my head. It wasn't that I didn't understand. I did. I agreed with West. He was absolutely right.
And given the chance, I would have done the same thing all over again.
I was only somewhat stupid, so I didn't tell West that. Instead, I raised my head and said as contritely as I could manage, “I understand.”
West nodded. “If you think of anything else, let me know. I'll talk to you later, Royal.” He left, closing the door behind him.
Royal looked at me. “You just lied to the police chief, didn't you?”
I shrugged a shoulder. “Maybe. If I'd had my phone, I would have called for help.” I thought about the man in the sweatshirt holding that box up to the air intake vent, and I shook my head. “No, I wouldn't. I mean, I would have called, but I also would have tried to stop him. I'm not saying it was the smart thing to do—”
“—but it was the right thing to do,” Royal finished for me.
“It was the only thing to do.”
I knew better than anyone that sometimes choices weren’t about right and wrong.
Sometimes choices were about what you could live with.
I'd be living with this swollen cheek for a while, but if The Inn had to shut down because of a cockroach infestation all of us would suffer. There were other places to stay in Sawyers Bend, but none attracted high profile guests with money to spend like The Inn at Sawyers Bend.
Royal contemplated me, his gaze thoughtful as he took another bite of brownie. “What are your plans tonight?”
“What?” I asked, not following his abrupt change in topic.
“Tonight. What are your plans?”
“Um, dinner with my grandmother and J.T. and early to bed since I have to get up at four.” It wasn't sexy or exciting, but that was my life.
“Have dinner with me instead,” Royal ordered with a flash of that charming grin. The spark of light in his deep blue eyes would have brought me to my knees if I hadn’t already been sitting.
My long-neglected hormones shouted YES!
My mouth opened, and instead, I asked, “Why?”
Royal’s charming grin morphed into genuine amusement. “Because you're brave. And smart. And very, very pretty.”
My jaw didn't exactly drop, but it was close. Very, very pretty? I didn't have to look down to see the grass stains on my jeans, the flour smeared across my shirt, and my cherry-cola curls falling out of the messy poof I'd stuck them in well before dawn.
At my best, I could pull off pretty. I had good genes to work with, after all. But after hours spent in the kitchen plus a fistfight? No way.
I rolled my eyes. “I don't mix business with pleasure,” I said, primly.
“Neither do I, usually,” Royal countered.
I rolled my eyes again. “Right. You never date locals, only hook up with hot tourists who come through the hotel. If that isn't mixing business with pleasure—”
Royal’s smile slipped. “Not the same thing. Are you saying you don't want to have dinner with me?”
I ignored his question. “Anyway, I have a boyfriend,” I said.
Royal shook his head. “No, you don't.”
“I do,” I insisted.
“Who?” he demanded.
“J.T. Everybody knows that,” I said. It was mostly true. Kind of.
Royal leaned back in his chair again, crossing his arms over his chest and raising one eyebrow. “And that's not mixing business with pleasure? He works for you, doesn't he? In fact, if you look at it that way, it's a harassment case waiting to happen.”
I laughed at the thought. “J.T.'s been my best friend since middle school. He's not going to sue me for harassment.” Realizing that made us seem less like the romance of the century, I looked away. “I appreciate the invitation. I'm flattered. But I have a boyfriend and I'm not interested.”
“Lying again, Daisy?”
The heat that hit my cheeks had me standing. “Your first order will be delivered tomorrow. I'll include the invoice. It's been a pleasure doing business with you.”
Royal stood and followed me out, his fingertips landing lightly on my lower back as he guided me through the door. “You sure about dinner tonight?”
“I told you, I'm not interested.”
Royal’s laugh followed me into the empty reception area, all the way to the elevator.
“If you say so. I'll be seeing you around, Miss Daisy.”
I very much doubted that.
And I was very, very wrong.
Chapter Four
Daisy
Daze, you've got a delivery.” I knew that sing-song tone in J.T.'s voice. I finished adding the last flower petal on the cookie I was decorating and set the bag of icing down, bracing my hands on my lower back and stretching. I love icing cookies, but it’s murder on the back.
A delivery? A delivery shouldn’t have come to the front. My cheek felt better than it had the day before, but it looked awful. I wasn't leaving the kitchen. If J.T. wanted something, he'd have to come to me.