That Secret Crush (Getting Lucky #3)(43)

She likes me a lot, and fuck if the sentiment isn’t returned in full force. I have a feeling I like her too goddamn much.

I shovel a scoop of pie in my mouth and shoot her a text. The girl is always on my mind.

Reid: I can still smell you on me.

The Inn must not be busy because she texts right back.

Eve: Good or bad?

Reid: Really good. What’s your perfume?

Eve: It’s called Sex Addict.

Reid: Really?

Eve: No, LOL. It’s Ralph Lauren.

Reid: I mean, I wouldn’t mind if you wore a perfume called Sex Addict. I would be cool with that.

Eve: So glad you approve. If we’re exchanging confessions, I can still feel the burn of your scruff on my inner thighs.

Reid: That’s hot.

Eve: Please don’t tell me you’re texting me this in front of your dad.

Reid: He’s not here yet. My mom had some leftover cherry pie that I’ve helped myself to though.

Eve: Happen to pack any up for your girl?

Reid: I can. Want some pie, babe?

Eve: Yes, please. XOXO

The front door opens, and my dad comes bursting in, shaking his coat off his shoulders as he strides into the kitchen, grumbling about the chill in the air. It’s still cold for the time of year, but that’s the unpredictability of Maine weather. One day it’s beautiful, the next day you’re freezing your nipples off.

Pocketing my phone, I push my now-empty plate to the side, making a mental note to grab a slice for Eve before I leave, and give my dad a wave as he approaches.

He adjusts the sleeves of his flannel. “Christ, it’s cold out. I don’t think my old bones can take the weather. I’m going to become a snowbird, and that’s final.”

I laugh and shake my head. “Yeah right, Dad. You would never leave Port Snow for more than a week. This town makes your blood pump.”

He takes a seat and plops his beefy forearms on the table. “Why the hell does it have to be so cold?”

“Maybe because you live in one of the northernmost states. Could be worse, though. Could be Alaska.”

“Thank God for small miracles.” He sighs and nods at the empty pie plate. “Your mom outdid herself.”

“So fucking good. Promised Eve a slice.”

“So things are still good with her? I heard some rumblings from the elders this morning down at the general store about you two. They were saying you were being indecent at Snow Roast. Getting a little handsy?”

Chuckling, I nod. “Yeah, we might have gotten ‘handsy’ at the coffee shop and outed ourselves.” I play with the fork on my plate, moving it over a pile of leftover crumbs. “I hated being quiet about the whole thing. I know she wanted to keep it between us, but hell, keeping anything secret in this town is basically impossible, so I just went for it.”

“How did she react?”

I think back to that night, the way she writhed beneath me and what was probably the most intense orgasm of my life—of both our lives.

I can’t help but smile. “She reacted well. Was a little nervous at first but then fell into it.”

“Good, good.” He drums his knuckles across the table, and I know things are about to get serious. “So about the other day.”

I hold up my hand. “Before you say anything, I want to tell you I’m sorry for walking out. I shouldn’t have done that. Things have just been tense for me lately, and I hate talking about my future because honestly I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“I can understand that,” he says, voice sincere. “But I didn’t want to harp on you. I actually wanted to talk to you about an opportunity.”

“Dad, I love you, but I really don’t want to work with Willy.”

He hesitates, blinking a few times. “It’s not with Willy, Reid; it’s an opportunity to work with me.”

“At the Landing? But Griffin’s in charge.”

“Not at the Landing. This is a new opportunity.”

“New? What are you planning on doing? Opening a restaurant?” I laugh, but when his face grows serious, my stomach somersaults on itself.

“Yes.”

“Wait, what?”

“You know the warehouse right next to the Landing? Where we used to make our T-shirts before we outsourced them? I want to do something with the space, and the best idea I could come up with is a restaurant. It’s the perfect location, looks over the harbor, and the Landing’s right next door, so people can get treats and souvenirs after. It’s at the center of town and is big enough for a gourmet industrial kitchen, a bar, and a good amount of seating with the possibility of extending into the water with some outdoor seating as well. I’ve already had an architect look at the space and draw up some initial blueprints for renovation.”

I don’t think I would be more shocked right now if my dad came out and told me he’s not my real father.

Or if he ripped off his flannel and started belly dancing.

Or if he told me he’s prone to wearing titty tassels to bed because he likes to bedazzle himself for a good night’s sleep.

A restaurant? He can’t be serious—can he?

The space is kind of perfect if I truly think about it, but extending into the water?

“You have blueprints?”

“Initial ones, so things can still be moved around. I want an experienced eye to look over them, and that’s where you come in.”