“I have a little gadget that does that, too.”
He looked stunned for a few seconds, and then a naughty gleam lit up his blue eyes, and she wondered how the hell she’d gotten herself into this conversation. She was supposed to be letting him know she wasn’t interested—even if it wasn’t precisely true—and somehow she’d ended up talking to him about sex toys?
“I’ve been told,” he said, “that little gadgets aren’t a good substitute for the real thing.”
They weren’t, actually, but she wasn’t about to tell him that. “Maybe whoever told you that wasn’t using the right gadgets.”
“Or maybe she was still basking in the glow of the real thing.”
“Basking in the glow?” Gadgets didn’t cause basking. Or glowing. “Tell me you didn’t just say that.”
“Oh, there’s a glow. And basking. Trust me.”
Trusting him was the last thing she’d be stupid enough to do. “I guess you’d know, considering the very extensive experience you have.”
Rather than looking insulted, Mitch leaned back in the seat and smiled. “You’ve been listening to too many stories, I think.”
“It’s impossible to spend any time with the women in this town and not hear the stories.”
His smiled dimmed a little. “And they wonder why I don’t come home more often.”
“You don’t like it here?”
“It’s a little claustrophobic. I don’t mind visiting, but I’d never stay. Even six weeks of this place will be too much.”
And she loved it enough to make it her home. It was enough to bolster her resistance to his charm. “You must not hate it, though. You named your company after the lodge.”
“No, I don’t hate Whitford.” He blew out a breath. “It’s just that once they pin a label on you here, you wear the label forever. When you walk into a place here, they see a beautiful woman who’s made a success out of her business. When I walk into a place, they don’t see a grown man who’s made a success out of his business. They see every story they’ve ever heard about me doing something wrong, even though I’ve changed.”
“So you’re not a charming playboy who romances the ladies and leaves them smiling as he rides off into the sunset anymore?”
“Okay, so that I’m trying to be, but you won’t let me.” Oh, he was good. “You know, Paige. I’m not looking to be a necessity here. Just a temporary luxury.”
“I’m not a woman who needs luxury in her life.”
“I bet I can change your mind.”
She looked him in the eye. “I bet you can’t.”
“I can be persuasive.”
“Really? Because it seems to me you’ve never had to work too hard at persuading a woman you’re a good bet.”
“I have a feeling you’re worth the effort.”
The man knew all the right buttons to push. “You’re welcome to try.”
She knew as soon as the words left her mouth they were the wrong ones to say. He nodded, his gaze hot and promising all sorts of naughty things she didn’t want to think about but would no doubt dream about. “I intend to.”
Chapter Seven
It was almost seven by the time Ryan’s black, three-quarter-ton truck with Kowalski Custom Homes logos printed down the sides pulled up to the lodge the following night, and Mitch walked out of the barn he’d been sorting through to meet him. His brother could be a pain in the ass, but he hadn’t seen him since they’d all gotten together to celebrate Sean getting out of the army.
They started to shake hands, but it turned into a quick hug. “Glad you could come. Hope you can still swing a hammer now that you’re all yuppied up.”
Ryan looked down at his clothes—khakis and a navy polo shirt bearing a smaller version of the logo on the truck—and frowned. “I’m not a damn yuppie.”
“You look like one. All bosslike.”
“I am the boss. But I can still swing my own hammer.” Ryan looked past him at the lodge. “From the looks of things, I’m going to need to.”
“Told you it was getting rough.”
“You weren’t lying. Right now I’m starving.”
“We can drive down to the diner and grab a burger or something.”
Ryan scowled. “No shepherd’s pie?”
“Rosie’s…on strike, I guess you could say.”
“What do you mean she’s on strike?”
“We hired Andy Miller to do some odd jobs around the place.”
“Oh.” Ryan shook his head. “So no banana bread, either?”
“Nope.”
“This place is really going to shit.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Where’s Josh?”
“He wanted to get cleaned up. Takes the poor sucker a half hour to get up and down the stairs, so he might be a while, but we can head into town when he’s done.”
Ryan walked toward the steps, giving them a good looking over. “I heard the woman that runs the old diner now is pretty hot.”
“Yup.” His younger brother liked to push his buttons, and he wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of getting territorial. Or asking him how he knew about Paige.