Marguerite’s mouth tightens minutely. I jump in. “It’d be a shame if they invalidated the bid because I didn’t deliver on my promise.”
“Can they do that? It’s already been processed on my credit card.”
“And that’s another thing. I didn’t want you to pay for it.”
“I didn’t. It’s Grandma’s money. By all rights, you should go out with her. She won you. Not me.”
“If it’s my purchase, then I have the ability to gift it to you,” Marguerite says.
Paislee’s light green eyes are piercing in the sunlight. I don’t like there’s a big-ass piano between the two of us or that I’m sitting on the sofa with her grandmother. I get the sense that all of this wealth, this newness, isn’t settling in well for Paislee.
I wish we’d met at the yogurt shop or the bookstore because I’m not a man who loves butlers and valets and white-aproned maids moving soundlessly in and out of rooms carrying trays of refreshments. I’m a man who lives in a small two-story brick house with a postage size backyard. I mow my own grass, buy my own groceries, and cook my own dinners. I think Paislee is that type of person, too.
“Then let’s do it this way. Forget about the bid and the auction and the prize. Paislee Abbott, I’d like to take you out for dinner. Will you go?”
“It’s Rhodes.”
Marguerite sucks in her breath.
“What’s that?” I ask in mild confusion.
She rises to her feet and stretches out her arms. “I’m Paislee Rhodes. Do you still want me?”
“You’re an Abbott, my dear,” Marguerite insists.
So it’s that way. I rise and hold out my hand. “And I’m a schoolteacher. Is that okay with you?”
Chapter Ten
Paislee
I stare at Gant’s outstretched hand, not sure if I should take it or not. When it comes to men around here, they tend to be jerks. Except the staff. The butler, Mr. Huntington, is a sweetheart. I’ve started calling him Hunts because he can track anything down in this place. He also has a penchant for gossiping with me. I think he might be sweet on my grandma too.
Gant’s big hand hangs in the air, waiting for me to make my decision. I can’t help but be curious about him. I wonder if he really is a teacher. He felt different from anyone else last night that I met. He seemed more down to earth and funny. Grandma told me not to let any man charm me out of my panties. Obviously, the men that run in these circles are good at that. My dad is a prime example.
He has to be telling the truth about being a teacher. The second a lie would have rolled off his tongue, Grandma would have called him on it. I glance over at my grandma, who has an unreadable expression on her face. She was smirking moments ago.
I don’t know if that faded because of something Gant said or because of the correction of my last name. It’s petty to keep correcting people. My grandma has been nothing but sweet and loving since she found out about me, but I’m a Rhodes. My mom gave me that last name, and I am proud of it.
Gant stares at me, waiting for an answer. “That is more than okay with me.” He clears the last few feet between us, engulfing my hand with his. I think he is going to only shake it, but he leans down and kisses the top of my hand. I feel myself flush for some silly reason. He only kissed my hand. My thoughts race thinking about what it would feel like for him to kiss me in other places.
“I taught pre-K back home at a daycare. I was only a semester away from my B.A. in Education before...” I trail off, thinking about my mom. Gant pulls me into him. He still has a hold on my hand that he’d kissed. I rest my hands on his chest, staring up at him. My body leans into him on its own. He feels nice. There is something about being in his arms that instantly comforts me.
His hand comes up to caress my cheek.
“Life can be cut too damn short. From the look in your eyes you know that better than most.” I give a small shake of my head. “Have dinner with me?”
“Yes,” I agree. A slow smile spreads across his face. One dimple pops out in his cheek, and he almost looks a little boyish. Nothing like the other men I met last night. I think my grandma approves of him too.
“Oh, no. Look there. However did the staff miss that when they put away all the Christmas stuff?” We both turn to look at her. Her eyes are above our heads. I tilt my head back to see what she is talking about. There hanging from the ceiling is a mistletoe. There are actually a few, and they are oddly placed around. Interesting that I never noticed them before today.