He kept his face close to hers and stared into her bright blue eyes. “That wasn’t a yes.”
She blinked quickly. “Yes, please deliver my items to me. I might even get some better wine for you.”
“No need. You’re more than enough to satisfy me.” He kissed her neck to feel the rapid pulse there. Then he pulled away, and said, “Call me later.”
Her eyes had drifted closed like they had at his touch last night. When they opened and she smiled up at him, he wanted to stay and take her back to bed. That look she gave him, while heated, reflected more than just wanting to fuck. He wanted more of her.
He just hoped he’d have a chance. As his car warmed up, he checked his phone. Sure enough, he’d missed a text from his sister. Rather than explain anything, he simply texted that he’d had a late night but would be in soon.
The drive home was fast, as traffic was light for a late Sunday morning. He showered quickly and by the time he got to the shop, Bronte was antsy.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“You tell me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh my God. Really?” She huffed. “You and London. She was the reason for your late night, right?”
“Yeah.” He moved through the studio and hoped Bronte still had coffee.
“Yeah what?” she called after him.
“Yeah, I was with London.”
“And?” His sister practically vibrated with excitement.
He was tired and severely undercaffeinated and had no energy to deal with that. “We fucked every which way and both left satisfied.”
“Ew. I was not looking for that kind of detail.”
“You shouldn’t be looking for any kind of detail. Stay out of it.” He drank his coffee and went to the pile of orders he had on his desk.
“The window looks nice. I hope you at least told her she did a good job.”
He grunted his response. Had he told her? He’d thanked her, right? Now his stupid sister had him questioning his every move. He thumbed through the orders and checked promised-by dates. Of course, everyone wanted their one-of-a-kind Christmas gifts before the holiday, so his next week would be slammed to allow time for fuckups.
At least it would keep his mind off London. He hoped.
“In the very good news department, I got a slew of people interested in taking classes. If we make this a regular thing, it’ll be a nice bump in revenue.”
“Uh-huh.” He was already at his table planning the glass set he needed to make.
“Was that you agreeing, or you telling me to shut up?”
“Both.”
She rounded the table and stood in his path to the glass. He huffed.
“I’m really having a hard time reading you right now. You’re acting all grumpy. Like grumpier than normal, but you just agreed to let me hold more classes without even so much as a growl about people invading your space.” She tilted her head in examining him. “I like the effect she has on you. I hope she sticks around.”
“Not likely.”
“Oh, man. Did you already scare her off?”
“Not that it’s your business, but no. We’re just casual.”
Bronte smirked and stepped away. “If she was just casual for you, I would never know about it.”