“This is some great coffee, Tina,” he said, and she risked a quick glance at his handsome profile.
“Glad you like it.”
“Think it’s going to rain all day?”
“Looks like it.”
“What are your plans?”
She circled the rim of her coffee mug with her forefinger as she pondered her response.
“Probably do my bookkeeping. I’ve been procrastinating. It wasn’t exactly the opening weekend I was hoping for. I don’t think the numbers are going to be that great.” It was more than she’d wanted to reveal, but admitting it was remarkably liberating. It felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.
“The place looks great—it has an amazing atmosphere and an appealing menu. There’s no reason for the locals not to come flocking back.”
“I’m so scared that they won’t,” she whispered, her voice alive with fear and insecurity. She felt her breathing escalate at the thought of what that would mean for her business and fought to keep the ever-present panic at bay.
She looked terrified.
Harris clenched his fists in a desperate attempt not to touch her. He wanted to help her, wanted to make this better, but he knew his offer would be rejected again, and it frustrated him. He hated that she would not let him help her resolve this . . . but he also understood her need to go it alone. Her need to prove to herself and everybody else that she could make a success of this venture.
She had her eyes fixed on her mug, while her finger continued to endlessly, almost compulsively, circle the rim. He ran his gaze over her profile: that pale, freckled skin, so pretty and smooth; her long, dark, sweeping lashes, which contrasted so strikingly with her sea-green eyes; that cute little button nose; her round and soft cheekbones and jaw; and a full, lush rose-pink mouth. And when you added in that mass of flame-red curls, so soft and luxurious . . .
She was fucking perfect. And he ached for her.
Last night had been unexpected and so damned wonderful. To taste her, touch her, to have that memory seared into his brain without alcohol distorting and blurring it, was beyond priceless.
It had nearly killed him to stop and then to leave her. He would have given anything to stay with her. Even if it meant just holding her. Even . . . ? God, he would have loved to just hold her all night.
He wrestled his errant thoughts back under control and focused on her last, shockingly honest, statement.
“They will come back, Tina. Your marketing will have to be on point, though. I know you don’t want my help, but I could write up a few pointers for start-up businesses—”
“I have someone to help me with that,” she interrupted tersely, clearly annoyed by his suggestion, and he swallowed back the rest of his words. Talking to her was always an exercise in restraint and frustration.
“Right. Okay. Of course you do.”
“Aren’t you here to ensure your brother doesn’t hurt Libby again?” she asked, finally lifting her fierce gaze to his. “He spent last night with her, and you have no idea why. You’re doing a really crappy job, Harris.”
“Libby asked me not to interfere.”
“She did?”
He was surprised that she wasn’t aware of that fact, since she and Libby usually discussed everything. “Yesterday, when I came to the restaurant.”
“Oh.”
“She didn’t tell you?”
“She must not have had the time.” Tina was hedging. Harris knew her well enough to recognize that she was being furtive as hell right now. “Well, if Libby doesn’t need your help keeping Greyson off her back, then you should probably head home to Cape Town. I’m sure you need to get back to work.”
“I haven’t been away that long, and I told you before, I can work from here. And I’m not ready to go yet. I like it here.”
There was such rampant and offended disbelief in her glare that he very nearly grinned—she was cute when she was outraged.
“You do not like it here. Your mattress is lumpy, and your coffee maker sucks. And you have to share your space with Greyson.”
“I admit, the latter is challenging, but he’s been different.” Honesty compelled him to add, “Part of the reason I want to stay is because I’m concerned about him.”
“Concerned? Why?”
“He fell apart after Libby left, Tina. I’ve never seen him like that before. And he hasn’t been the same since. He was wearing my sweats yesterday, for Christ’s sake.” Tina’s jaw went slack at that revelation. “I’m worried he won’t be able to pick up the pieces once he understands that Libby really is done with him.”
“He accused you of sleeping with his wife,” Tina reminded him.
“Yeah, and part of me will probably never forgive him for that, but he’s still my brother, and he’s . . . I don’t know . . . I think he’s lost. I want to be here to help him find his way back.”