Page 7

As shabby as the Seascape was, the views were still stunning, even at night. Whoever bought the place, provided they had the deep pockets necessary to modernize the hotel while leaning into the mid-century charm, could really do well with the place.

The truth was, I had the money to fix up the place, refurnish the rooms, update the building and bring it into the current century.

But would it be worth it? How long would it take to see any return on my investment?

Not soon enough, by the looks of things.

Besides, there wasn’t enough money in the world for me to run a business partnered with Daniel Quinn.

As if just thinking about him had summoned him like a ghost from my past, Daniel returned to the table, set down the wine and took my whiskey tumbler.

“Your calamari will be out shortly,” he told me, words clipped.

“Thanks.” I lifted my wineglass in a sort of mock toast before drinking. Daniel rolled his eyes and walked away.

For the most part, dinner ran smoothly. Daniel brought the dishes to the table, saying as little as possible and leaving as quickly as he could.

I, on the other hand, and despite my better judgment, ordered another two glasses of wine and had a fairly good buzz going by the time he returned to clear away my dinner.

“That was good,” I told him, and meaning it. The food had been surprisingly delicious, and the restaurant was the first hint of potential I’d seen since I arrived.

Daniel nodded and lifted my plate.

“What do you recommend for dessert?” Even I heard the faint slur in my voice.

He shot me a pointed look. “Coffee. Strong coffee.”

“Sure, okay, but what about to eat?”

“The sticky toffee pudding is good.” He shrugged and lowered his gaze to the dishes in his hands.

Something squeezed in my chest. Sticky toffee pudding had been my favorite since I was a kid. My grandmother used to make it when I stayed with my grandparents while my own parents had been navigating their divorce. Did Daniel remember, or was he just making a recommendation?

“Yeah, okay. That sounds good.”

He nodded and left, but was back a few minutes later with my dessert and a steaming cup of coffee.

“God, that looks good,” I said, before he could hurry away again.

I took a bite of the sweet spongy cake and nearly wept.

If I closed my eyes, I could almost imagine I was ten years old and back in my grandmother’s kitchen.

I looked up at Daniel. His mouth twitched as if he were struggling to hold back a smile.

“We have a great chef.”

“You really do. Sit. We should talk.” I gestured to the chair opposite me. “Here, you can help me eat this.” I pointed to the desert with my fork.

Daniel snorted. “I’m not going to sit here and share your dessert while you tell me all the reasons my hotel sucks.”

“ Our hotel.” I batted my eyes at him and struggled not to laugh when I saw his jaw tighten. Honestly, getting under his skin was just too easy. “Seriously though, sit down.”

Still clenching his jaw, he plopped onto the seat opposite me. The last table, besides mine, had cleared out a while ago, and it had been a while since I saw Alistair. Maybe he’d gone home, and we were on our own. My heart rate kicked up a little.

Anyone who saw us sitting together at a table for two might think we were on a date. Instead of two bitter exes who could hardly stand to be in the same room together.

Although that wasn’t entirely true, at least on my part.

Over the last two days, since first seeing Daniel after so long, I found I very much liked having him in the same room with me, even if it was just to piss him off.

The more time I spent with him, the more time I wanted to spend with him…

and the more I wondered about what it would be like to be with him now.

If I kissed him, would he still taste the same?

Would his touch still light me up inside like a solar flare?

Could I make him soft and needy like I used to?

I didn’t have an answer, but despite our tumultuous past, I itched to find out.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” I opened my mouth to answer, but he cut me off. “If you’re going to run down the restaurant, my chef, the staff, I’m not interested.”

After this dessert, how could he think I’d have anything lousy to say about the hotel restaurant? I shoveled another bite into my mouth, then took a drink of coffee.

“I wasn’t going to do that at all. This is delicious, actually; so why don’t you have more diners?”

He leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table.

“In the summer, we’re packed, and weekends are busier, but during the week in the off-season, I’m relying on locals, and they’re not dining out in the middle of the week.

There are the university students, but I don’t really appeal to them, and I’m not sure I want to. ”

“No, you’re right. Appealing to college students would be a mistake for you.”

His brows lifted as if he was surprised I’d agreed with him. He shouldn’t be. He really was right. Turning this place into a college hangout would conflict with the hotel, and he’d be competing with the bar down the street.

I rubbed my chin with the back of my hand thoughtfully. “You need to expand your reach, maybe. Or at least pack the place on the weekends to carry you through the week.”

“What difference does it make? You’re selling, aren’t you?”

“I am,” I agreed quickly, even if my mind had started turning through ideas.

Maybe marketing into nearby cities would increase interest in the hotel in the off-season.

Romantic weekends away by the ocean, or some shit.

I had a marketing team. How difficult would it be to market for a hotel rather than our usual properties? I could always bring someone on.

“Grey?” Daniel’s voice broke into my thoughts, and I looked up at him, watching expectantly. He must have asked me something, but I’d been too wrapped up in my own thoughts to hear him.

“Sorry, what?”

“Are you done?” He nodded to the dishes in front of me. I’d finished my coffee and ate almost half of the dessert by the time my stomach finally cried uncle.

“I want to take the rest of the dessert back to my room.” I’d eat it for breakfast before checking out in the morning.

Daniel took away my dishes, and when he returned with the rest of my dessert in a small Styrofoam container, I stood. I must have still been a little buzzed from the wine. I swayed a bit on my feet and grasped the edge of the table to steady myself.

“Here.” He handed me the container. “I’ll walk you back to your room.”

“My, what excellent service. My review of this hotel just went from three to four stars.”

He sighed and pointed to the dining-room door. “Just go.”

“Rude. Back down to three stars.”

He sniffed as if holding back a laugh.

“You know,” I said, making my way across to the stairs that would take me up to my room. “I’m fine. As much as I appreciate the escort, I can make it back to my room on my own.”

As I started to climb the steps, I missed my footing and stumbled forward. The stairs rose up fast to meet me, and I threw both arms out, reaching for the rails, but something wrapped around my middle like an iron band, jerking me back before I landed face-first.

For a split second, I couldn’t breathe. I was acutely aware of Daniel’s arm around my waist, his solid chest pressed to my back. The heat from his body warmed me even through our clothes.

“Are you okay?” His breath whispered over my ear, and I held myself against the shiver spreading over my skin.

“I’m okay,” I croaked, easing from his grip. “Just not paying attention.”

I continued up the stairs, but Daniel kept his hand pressed to my back, guiding me as if he were worried he might need to grab me to stop me from falling again. Once we reached the top of the stairs, he slid his arm around my waist and guided me down the walkway toward my room.

Despite my near fall on the stairs, I wasn’t as drunk as Daniel seemed to believe. Still, I liked his warm weight around my back, and I leaned into his side. I’d forgotten how much I loved his solid build pressed against me, and my dick perked up at the reminder.

“Here you go,” Daniel said, when we reached the room. “Do you need help getting inside?”

I shook my head and fished out the key card. “I can handle it from here.”

“Okay. Well, good night.” He turned and started walking away, but instead of heading back the way we’d come, he continued down towards the last of the rooms, where the walkway ended.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

He turned to face me, folding his arms over his chest and jutting out his chin as if he were bracing for something. “I live in this suite.”

I frowned, not sure I was understanding him. “I’m sorry… You live here? In the hotel?”

His eyes narrowed, expression stony. “I just said so.”

“I thought you had a house where you and Ramona lived, some cottage up the hill.”

“We did, but Ramona had early onset dementia. When we got to the point she needed around-the-clock care, I had to sell the house and used the money to pay for the care home she was in.”

“Shit, Daniel, I’m sorry.” And I meant it. I knew his mother had died when he was fifteen, and his stepmother had been the only family he had left. “When did this happen?”

“She was diagnosed the same summer…” His voice trailed away.

“The same summer we were together,” I finished for him.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

The food in my stomach soured. Hell, he’d only been eighteen back then, having to deal with all that on his own. “Why did you never tell me?”

He shrugged. “I never wanted you to know.”

His words stung like tiny darts, and my throat shriveled tight.

He hadn’t wanted to talk to me about the single most important thing happening to him at that time.

I bet he talked to his friend , Ryan, about it, though.

Shit, it had all happened almost twenty years ago.

Proof of how little I had mattered to him shouldn’t have felt like such a kick in the gut, but it did.

“I’ll let you get some sleep.” He turned and moved toward his room, leaving me to watch him walk away.