Any Time, Any Place (Billionaire Builders #2)(25)
He reached for his water, taking a few long sips. “No, it was passed down from my great-great-great-grandfather on my mother’s side. When she became pregnant with Cal, she changed the legal name to Pierce Brothers Construction. Guess she had a premonition she’d have more boys.”
Raven tried to ignore her pounding heart. “Sounds like you had a close-knit family. Your parents must have made a great team.”
He shut down. The light in his eyes disappeared, and his face grew tight and expressionless. “Not really,” he said shortly. “I’ve learned not to trust surface images anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
His grin was quick and held a bit of cruelty. “Marriages don’t mean happily ever after, Raven. In my opinion, love has a certain death the moment you put rules on it.”
Startled, she drew back, filing the hint away in her mental computer. His parents hadn’t been happy. Was that why Diane Pierce stalked her father? Got him to fall for her so she didn’t have to deal with her husband? Whatever had happened, Dalton still held a ton of resentment. Was that where he’d gotten all his cynical ideas about love?
Maybe they weren’t so different after all.
She lightened the tone. “You seem to be happy about your brother getting married.”
He scrunched up his face as if thinking hard. “I guess you’re right. Cal seems suited for marriage, though, and Morgan is his other half.”
“Are you doing all the cabinetry for the new house?”
He nodded. “Got some amazing exotic snakewood I want to work with. And wait till I get my hands on the deck. People will be coming from miles away just to see it. It’ll be shaped like an oval rather than square, with a loft-type roof and fitted benches. And the table is my present to them. I’ve got it stashed in the shed, and I spend most of my spare time working on it so it’ll be finished in time. It’s huge.”
She smiled, propping her face up in her palm. “I get like that when I’m trying to create a perfect cocktail. Ingredients are key, but sometimes it takes a while to find the right mix of sweet and tart, or to achieve the subtle lingering effect on the tongue. It’s a lost art nowadays. Everyone seems to want to wine or beer it.”
He scratched his head. “I never considered it, but you’re right. Bars just don’t cater to the cocktail crowd any longer, and other than the standard classics, people don’t seem interested in trying exotic mixed drinks.”
“That’s why I’m going to change things.” Her plan was long term, and she intended to grow the cocktail crowd organically. She aimed to fill a niche no one even knew was empty. “I’m going to implement a cocktail night. I was thinking of combining it with some targeted activities or events.”
“Like karaoke?”
She shuddered. “Overdone. I’m thinking more like poker.”
His brow shot up. “You kidding?”
“No. Poker is hugely popular, but many people don’t get to play because games occur in private houses or custom-made groups. I’d set up some casual tables—some mixed, some just men, others just women. Would love to set up a training class for women. I want to get away from the usual pool and darts everyone expects.”
He took another slug of water and studied her. She tried not to squirm under the stinging blue of his gaze. “You keep surprising me.”
“Why? ’Cause I have a big old brain?” She fluttered her lashes in mockery.
“I already knew that the first moment I spoke with you. No, you surprise me because you look at the world differently from anyone I’ve ever met. And I like it.”
Raven stilled. A swirling tension filled the air. His compliment should’ve been dismissed with a laugh or a wave of a hand. He was probably just flirting and trying to get into her pants. Right? But it didn’t feel that way. He meant every word, and the sincerity of his confession hit her exactly where she tried to protect.
Her heart.
Stop being stupid. It’s only a game. He plays his, and I play mine.
The disgusted voice shook her out of the odd trance, and she was able to pull herself up to sit straight in the chair. “Nice play, Slick,” she said deliberately. “So, tell me a bit about California. Did you like it out there?”
A flash of disappointment flickered over his features, but it was gone so quickly she wondered if she’d imagined it. He took his final bite and wiped his hands. “Yep. Kind of difficult not to like sun, surf, and a laid-back attitude. It was good for me to experience, but Harrington must’ve gotten under my skin. Even though the winters suck and the people are still too rushed and way too high maintenance, I belong here. Those years away were key to figure it out.”
“Yeah.” She nodded slowly, thinking of the exotic sights she’d seen, along with sleeping on the ground next to strangers, looking up at the stars. Being back home and having something solid underneath her satisfied her more deeply than she’d imagined. “I get it.”
“Course you do. You’re a wanderer, like me. We’re very alike, you know.”
She let out a laugh. “Trust me, I’m nothing like you.”
“I disagree. Name one quality you have that you don’t think I do.”
He leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms in front of his chest. She refused to stare at the bunched muscles underneath soft cotton. Why hadn’t she ever seen him at the gym? His biceps were delicious. Did he have a lot of hair on his chest or a little? Was it blond or a bit darker? How far down did the line go—what had he asked? “Umm, what?”