He’ll come back,” Paris said, taking a seat beside Kaitlyn on the couch later that evening. She had a design sketchbook in her lap. Even though she would probably never work in New York again, she still liked designing big, beautiful rooms that felt magical when you stepped inside them.
“Who?” she asked.
“Mitch is the reason you’re moping, right?”
She leaned back into the couch cushion with a heavy sigh. “Well, you and several other guests heard our argument this morning. You know what happened.” She shook her head, still embarrassed over it all. “Rule number one of hosting a bed and breakfast: Don’t throw yourself at any of the guests or your business partner. Why didn’t my grandmother leave me a rule book for this job?”
Paris chuckled. He was holding a glass of red wine in his hand. Shouldn’t a biker drink beer? He was a walking contradiction in her mind. “Life doesn’t have rule books, unfortunately.”
“Have you found anyone who sparks your interest since your divorce?” she asked, suddenly curious to know more about him.
Paris shrugged. “Not really.”
She frowned. “Well, I was happy to hear you might be making Sweetwater Springs your home. I’m new here too so that would be one more friend I’d have in town.”
“Who needs romance when you have friends, right?” He bumped his shoulder against hers. “You know what? The best medicine for a broken heart is a night out on the town. That’s my experience at least.”
“A night out?” she asked.
“Yeah. We should go have drinks,” he said, and she was beyond certain he wasn’t flirting with her. She had nothing to worry about with Paris.
“I would but I can’t leave the inn. A host’s job is never done. No more barhopping for me,” she said on a laugh.
“Did someone say bar?” Joe asked, bounding off the bottom stair with Missy following close behind him in a short skirt and skintight leggings. “Because I am so in.”
Kaitlyn had learned that their prolonged stay was because of their fall break from college. Both of their families lived too far to drive back for the week. And while Kaitlyn had been put off by their behavior at first, she’d grown fond of the young, overly affectionate couple.
She turned to look at them. “The Tipsy Tavern downtown is supposed to be good. Why don’t you two go with Paris and check it out?” She narrowed her gaze at the couple. “Wait. Are you at least twenty-one?”
Missy giggled. “I love getting asked that question. I just became legal last month.”
“I love being asked too,” Kaitlyn said. “Even if it isn’t happening as often as I’d like anymore,” she whispered to Paris.
He laughed and then nudged her with his elbow. “The Jamiesons told me earlier they were going out for drinks tonight. They asked me to come along. Why don’t we all go?”
Kaitlyn hedged. “I’m not sure the Krespos would enjoy that. But I can stay here while the rest of you go have fun. Really, I’m fine.”
They all turned toward a sudden commotion that erupted at the top of the stairs as Mrs. Krespo chased her husband with her cane down the open hallway.
The Trapps peeked their heads out of their room to see what the disturbance was.
“Uh-oh,” Kaitlyn said, prepared to run interference.
Instead, Paris stood to address the group. “A few of us are going out to a bar tonight. Do you all want to come along?”
“It’s okay if you don’t,” Kaitlyn assured them, knowing the older couple would likely refuse.
“Oh, I’d love to!” Mrs. Krespo said, surprising her.
“Us too,” Chris and Nate agreed, heading out of their room.
Paris turned back to Kaitlyn with a mischievous grin. “Looks like a group event. I’ll call a taxi van. No need for a DD. Just a good time.”
A good time. Right. Going to a bar with two horny college kids, a mysterious biker, a gay couple, newlyweds, and an old lady with a cane and a husband who loved her as much as he seemed to fear her. What was the worst that could happen?
* * *
An hour later, Kaitlyn walked into the Tipsy Tavern with Paris, Mr. and Mrs. Krespo (canes and attitude included), the Jamiesons, Chris and Nate Trapp, and the young college lovebirds. Maybe this would be a regular activity at the B&B, she considered. Friday nights at the tavern. Yeah. She liked the idea.
Paris pointed at a long table with a booth lining the wall toward the back of the tavern. “We’ll all fit over there. Not that we’ll be sitting. That dance floor looks tempting.”
“I’m not much of a dancer,” she called over her shoulder, unsure if Paris could even hear her over the cacophony of music, laughter, and glasses clinking on the scarred wooden tables. She looked back to make sure the Krespos were okay. Mrs. Krespo whacked her cane back and forth, scooting people to the side in a not-so-subtle way.
Kaitlyn choked on a laugh. It was hilarious and a bit concerning. She reached the back table and plopped down in a seat.
“Oh, no you don’t.” Chris shook his head. “Dance first, drink later.”
“I think it goes the other way around. I need drinks to make me dance. And maybe not even then.” She signaled the waitress who was walking by.
“Need a drink?” the twentysomething blond asked. She was tall, thin, and beautiful in an obvious kind of way.
Kaitlyn remembered Mitch saying he’d had a one-night stand with a waitress here a few months back. She sized the waitress up with a smile, wondering if this was the one. “Yes, anything strong that you have on tap, please.”
“Coming right up.” The waitress headed off.
“Are you checking her out?” Nate plopped down in the space next to Kaitlyn.
“Yes. Actually, I was. But not for the reason you’re thinking. Someone I know had a fling with a waitress here. Just wondering if it was her.”
“You are as see-through as that woman’s dress over there.” He gestured to the dance floor and a woman who looked naked at first glance. “Would that someone happen to be Mitch?” he asked. “And are you jealous?”
Chris snuggled in beside Nate, leaning over to listen. “She has good reason to be jealous. I hate everyone in your past,” he told Nate. “Even the ones I like I still hate.”
Nate grinned. “Must be love,” he told his husband.
“Oh, no.” Kaitlyn shook her head. “Mitch and I aren’t…We don’t have that kind of relationship. We just, well, we might have kissed. But only twice.”
“You’re not telling us anything we don’t know. The whole house is buzzing about that fight this morning and what happened last night.” Chris bounced his eyebrows.
Kaitlyn sighed and looked around. The Jamiesons were seated at the bar. The Krespos had moved to the dance floor along with the college kids. By the looks of it, Mr. Krespo still had quite a few moves. Mrs. Krespo was actually smiling as she tried to keep up with him.
Kaitlyn turned back to Chris, Nate, and Paris. “Unfortunately, nothing happened last night, and that’s the problem.” She covered her face with both hands. There was nothing like complete honesty with friends—kind of—to humble you.
A drink was set in front of her. She lifted her head, thanked the waitress—whom they were all watching with interest now—and took a healthy sip.
“So you made a move on him?” Nate asked.
She bit her lower lip, weighing how much detail to disclose. “He’s been giving me mixed signals since we became business partners. He looks at me with those eyes and talks to me in that voice. I thought he was feeling the vibe between us too.”
“You sure you weren’t imagining it?” Paris asked.
She swallowed, remembering the night she’d gone downtown with Mitch. She hadn’t imagined the heat between them. “Mitch kissed me. But maybe”—she shook her head—“maybe he didn’t want to take it any further. Maybe that part was just me.” She shook her head again. “This is so embarrassing. I’ll never be able to look at him again.”
“Hate to break it to you, sweetheart,” Paris said.
She looked at him curiously. “What?”
Gesturing, Paris pointed across the room.
Kaitlyn’s heart sunk and did a little somersault at the same time. Her heart was evidently just as confused as she was at the sight of Mitch Hargrove.
* * *
Mitch was halfway through his first beer and having a decent time with the guys. He’d laughed more than a few times, and it’d felt good. He had felt good until he’d overheard a commotion going on behind him. He turned around to see a little old lady with a walking cane parting the crowd like Moses with the Red Sea.
What is Mrs. Krespo doing here?
Scanning the room, he noticed the entire gang of B&B guests weaving through the bar. Then he spotted Kaitlyn and his heart stalled for a second. What was it about that woman that made her so damn hard to resist? Why did he want her so badly? And why did the sight of her alongside Paris make him want to go punch a hole in the wall?
He wasn’t eighteen anymore. He might’ve done that over a girl back then but now he was marine strong with an iron cast will.
“Earth to Mitch.”
Mitch turned toward Alex’s and Tuck’s raised brows. “Sorry. Mr. and Mrs. Krespo are here.”
Tuck and Alex followed where his gaze had just been.
“Who?” Alex scrunched his face. “I know everyone in this town, and I’ve never seen them before.”
“They’re staying at the Sweetwater B and B.”
“Right. That article in Loving Life magazine is drawing a small crowd to the area. That’s good for commerce but it’ll make the department busier. I’ll have to hire more officers if the tourists keep coming in. I’m shorthanded as it is.”
“Looks like the host is here too,” Tuck said. “Kaitlyn seems awfully friendly with that Harley Davidson model.”
Mitch frowned. “That’s Paris. He’s in town for some kind of Santa thing.”
“Bikers for Santa,” Alex said with a nod. “They’re meeting up at the Lights on the Lake event this weekend.”
“Yeah,” Mitch said with a nod.
“Since I’m short-staffed, I’ll be working the event myself,” Alex said.
“You expecting trouble with the carolers?”
Alex frowned. “Janice Murphy spiked the eggnog last year.”
Tuck laughed out loud. “That was the best. I’ll be there with my nephew, Theo. Halona is keeping her flower shop open late for customers that night.”
“You going?” Alex asked.
Mitch gave his head a shake. “As much as I’d hate to miss the drunk caroling, I don’t think so.”
“You have to. It’s the town’s biggest event,” Tuck pressed.
“Exactly,” Mitch answered. Attending Sweetwater’s biggest event was akin to skinny-dipping in a lake full of piranhas. At least in Mitch’s mind.
“Hey, guys.” A waitress stepped up to the table.
Mitch inwardly groaned, recognizing the voice before he even looked up. “Hi, Nadine.”
“Long time since you’ve been at one of my tables, Mitch,” she said. “I’ve missed you.”
Mitch briefly looked at his friends, which was a mistake. He hadn’t told them about his one-night stand with Nadine the last time he was home but these guys missed nothing.
“Sounds like your lucky night,” Alex told Nadine. “Maybe you can take a break and Mitch here can sweep you across the dance floor.”
“I don’t dance,” Mitch said through gritted teeth. If he put his hands on Nadine, she’d expect another night together. Despite what everyone said, one-night stands came with strings attached, which was why he’d turned away from Kaitlyn last night.
The image of Kaitlyn’s bare skin against white lace flashed in his mind for the millionth time today. Given a second chance, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to resist her again.
“Well, if you change your mind…” Nadine winked. “I’ve got customers to attend to. See you, guys.”
“She’s pretty,” Tuck said, pulling from his beer and watching Nadine sashay off.
“Well, you take her home then,” Mitch grumbled.
Tuck shook his head. “Not my type.”
“You’ve barely dated since Renee. Maybe taking Nadine for a spin on the dance floor or out to dinner sometime would help get you back out there,” Alex suggested.
Tuck frowned grimly, and his eyes dulled. “Maybe I don’t want to get back out there. I’m good.”
Just like with Mable’s passing, Mitch had been unable to get leave from the corps when Renee had died from cancer two summers ago. Neither of them had been blood relatives. He’d thought a lot of Renee though. She and Tuck had started dating in high school. Mitch hated to think about his friends not getting the happy ending they deserved. He couldn’t imagine what Tuck had gone through or how he was even functional enough to be here tonight. Life went on, Mitch guessed. People did the best they could with the cards they were dealt.
“If you don’t go break in on that dance, there’s a chance that Kaitlyn and Paris might go home together tonight,” Alex said, pulling Mitch from his thoughts.
Mitch turned to look back at the dance floor. The music was fast paced, and Kaitlyn was swaying back and forth in front of Paris. There wasn’t a good chance that they’d go home together tonight; it was definite. They were both staying at the Sweetwater B&B. Whether they returned to the same bed, though, was over Mitch’s dead body.
He set his beer down and pushed back from the table.
“Yeah, buddy!” Alex shook a fist in the air. “Go get her.”
Kaitlyn wasn’t his to get. He just didn’t want her to get hurt—all the more reason he should skip breaking up the happy couple and head to the men’s restroom instead.
He continued forward until he was standing somewhat awkwardly in front of a dancing Kaitlyn and Paris. Everyone was moving to the beat except him.
“Oh,” Kaitlyn said, finally noticing his presence. Her smile quickly fell. He guessed she was recalling that she was still ticked off at him about last night.
“Hey, Mitch,” Paris said, freezing to a halt. “What’s going on, man?”
The muscles of Mitch’s jaw bunched. “I’m cutting in. That’s what.”
* * *
Kaitlyn wrapped her arms around Paris’s neck and pulled him to her. “I don’t think so,” she said.
Is he serious right now?
Mitch had rejected her last night but he didn’t want her dancing with Paris?
Paris grabbed hold of Kaitlyn’s arms and gently loosened them. “Actually, I have to visit the men’s room. She’s all yours, buddy.” He winked at Kaitlyn, which she took as an apology, but he’d be hearing from her about this later. They’d only known each other a week but they were supposed to have each other’s backs. Friends didn’t let friends dance with burly, sexy, off-limits men.
“Kaitlyn?” Mitch said. As he did, the music transitioned from a fast, upbeat tune to something slow and romantic. The lights dimmed, reminding her of a middle school dance. She’d never liked those. They were awkward, and she’d spent most of her time holding up the wall and avoiding eye contact because she was too nervous to approach any of the boys. And the cute guys never asked her to dance. Instead it was always the sweaty ones with an overeager smile.
Mitch was the cute guy tonight. The cute guy was asking her to dance, and she couldn’t say no. Not to him, no matter how much she wanted to.
“Fine. But just so you know, this doesn’t mean I like you.” In fact, she was doing her damnedest to hate him. But he was right when he’d told her earlier that he was one of the good guys. He’d proven that time and time again.
Mitch anchored his big hands on her waist and pulled her body toward him.
Her arms dutifully went to his shoulders but she didn’t make eye contact. She clamped her mouth shut and didn’t say a word. If they were going to talk, he was going to have to be the one to start the conversation.
“Kaitlyn?”
Reflexively, her gaze went to his. Traitorous gaze. “What do you want from me, Mitch?” she asked on a sigh. “Last night you acted like you wanted nothing to do with me. Fine. You got it. But now you’re here asking me to dance and looking at me with those puppy dog eyes, and it’s just confusing. Make up your mind. You either want me or you don’t.”
“I don’t want to want you, but…”
She swallowed thickly. “But?”
“But I do, and I’m not sure what to do about that.”
“You probably didn’t hesitate with that waitress when you took her home a few months back.”
“No,” he admitted, his expression unreadable. “And I regret that. I had too much to drink that night, and I’d just gotten off my last deployment. I had a lot going on in my head. Nadine was just a Band-Aid for the crap I didn’t want to deal with. The same way you wanted me to be your Band-Aid last night.”
Her eyes widened. She considered arguing that point but wondered if maybe it was true. Was she just trying to use him last night? “Well, what’s wrong with Band-Aids? If I want you and you want me, then what’s wrong with just going with it? It doesn’t have to mean anything.”
His mouth was set in a flat line. Not a frown, but not a smile either. She studied the growth of hair that surrounded his lips, remembering how soft it’d felt when they’d kissed. Full-force tingles rushed over her. She was still mad. Still wanted to hate him. Still wanted to take him back to her bedroom and use him as the fuel to her sexual fantasies for the next year. Screw the consequences—she wanted to live in the moment. She wanted to be whisked away from all the crap of the recent months.
Her arms tightened around him. Even as the song ended and transitioned to something more upbeat, she didn’t pull away.
And neither did he. Their bodies were stuck to each other like magnets.
“Why did you ask me to dance if you don’t want me?”
His gaze lowered, and their mouths were dangerously close to one another. Close enough to kiss a third time.
“Aren’t you listening? I never said I didn’t want you.”
Those tingles combusted into flames.
“My turn,” a high-pitched voice said as the waitress who served Kaitlyn earlier stepped up beside them. “Thought you weren’t up for dancing, Mitch, but it looks like you changed your mind.” Her gaze slid to Kaitlyn for a millisecond and then back to him. “The beer on tap here will do that to you, I guess.”
Kaitlyn debated whether she was going to allow this to happen. Before she had a chance to decide, Mitch shook his head.
“I’m sorry, Nadine, but not tonight. I’m actually on my way out.”
Nadine’s gaze slid from him and back to Kaitlyn. “I see. Some other time, then,” she said, looking disappointed.
He nodded. “Would you mind calling a cab for the group over there when they’re ready to go?”
She shrugged. “Sure. I never let anyone leave this bar if they’ve had too much to drink anyway.”
“Thanks. Have a great night, Nadine.” Mitch grabbed Kaitlyn’s hand and then started leading her toward the door.
“I can’t leave,” Kaitlyn said, even though her body was begging to differ. Going anywhere alone with Mitch right now was a terribly fantastic idea.
“The guests will be fine. Paris will make sure they all get back in one piece. I trust him that much.”
“You just don’t trust him to be alone with me?”
Mitch stared at her with heated brown eyes. “I don’t want any other man to be alone with you. You can text Paris from my truck.”
“Where are we going?” she asked—not that she cared.
There was a sudden urgency in his movements as he pulled her toward the exit. “To settle this thing between us once and for all.”