Page 68 of Only for the Season

My nose wrinkles. “Does a cookie count?”

“No. A cookie doesn’t count.” He offers me his hand. “Come on. Let me feed you.”

I hesitate. Is he offering to feed me out of pity? I don’t need anyone to pity me. Especially not a billionaire who can buy and sell this entire apartment building a million times over.

My stomach rumbles to remind me I’m hungry and there’s no food in my apartment. If I want to eat, I’ll have to leave anyway.

“Fine. But I’m choosing where we eat.”

He grins. “I accept your conditions.”

He places his hand on my lower back and ushers me out of the apartment. He frowns when we pass the broken elevator and the unlocked front door but he doesn’t say anything.

I expected him to shove his wealth in my face. But he hasn’t.

Come on, Jeremy. Be a little bit of a jerk before I fall head over heels in love with you. And you break my heart when you leave Smuggler’s Hideaway for good.

Chapter 23

“I wanted control. She took the couch – and the lead.” ~ Jeremy

Jeremy

“Ican’t believe there’s a Chinese restaurant on Smuggler’s Hideaway,” I say as Parker dumps another serving of shrimp fried rice onto her plate.

When she suggested take-out, I saw it as the perfect opportunity to get her back in the loft. A place I don’t intend her to ever leave.

I can’t allow her to live in her apartment. Especially not when the reason she’s living there is to save money to repay her parents, who are complete assholes.

“Wok the Plankhas been a staple in Smuggler’s Rest for about a decade. David and Ang moved here from San Francisco with their daughter, May, for her to train with Miles.”

“Miles? As in Eli’s younger brother?”

“Yep.” She settles back on the sofa next to me. “Miles used to be a world-class surfer until he injured himself in Hawaii.”

“Does May still surf?”

“She’s the surf instructor atHideaway Haven Resort.”

“Have you ever surfed?”

She snorts. “My parents are orthodontists. I’ve never engaged in any activity that might ruin my perfect teeth.” She smiles to show off her teeth. “I blame Miles. He chipped his front tooth when a surfboard hit him in the face.”

Jealousy flares to life in my stomach. Were Parker and Miles a couple? “Isn’t Miles five years younger than you?”

“Seven. But who’s counting?” She shrugs.

“Are you into younger men?”

She points at me with her chopsticks. “You’re a year younger than me.”

“So, yes, you are into younger men.”

She rolls her eyes. “Who says I’m into you?”

I set my plate down on the coffee table before doing the same with hers.

“What are you doing? We haven’t finished eating yet.”