“You can stay,” he said quietly. “For as long as it suits you. Which, judging from your personality, I’d assume would be another few weeks before you move on to bigger and better things?”
Sophie tapped a fingernail against her lips. “Bigger things…such as dancing at bachelor parties and installing a pole in my living room to practice my moves?”
He gave one of his lopsided almost-smiles, and Sophie felt something warm and tingling in the vicinity of her lady parts. Annoying how the begrudging twitch of those unsmiling lips was somehow more rewarding than another man’s full grin.
“So we’re good?” Sophie asked tentatively.
“We’re…okay. Just no more thigh-high boots, no more rambling stories about your childhood, and no more climbing up ladders.”
“I make no promises,” she said cheekily, before wiggling her fingers at him and heading toward the door. “Now if there’s nothing else, I’ll go find someone a bit more…suitable to pull down Davie, eh?”
“Fine,” he mumbled. “Oh, and I did have one question.”
She turned and waited.
“The coffee you brought me this morning. There was cream in there.”
Sophie rolled her eyes. “Yes. There was.”
“You’ve always brought me my coffee black before.”
“Mm-hmm.” She studied her chipped fingernails. “And you really thought I wouldn’t notice that you dumped in two creamers as soon as I turned my back?”
She could have sworn she saw him blush. It was…cute? No, that wasn’t quite right. But it was something.
“I think it’s sweet that you didn’t want to hurt Beth’s feelings,” she teased. “She informed me with great pride that she’d guessed that you like your coffee black.”
“I think we’re done here,” he said, a distinct red creeping over his cheeks. “And don’t tell Ms. Jennings about the cream-in-the-coffee thing.”
Sophie raised an eyebrow. “Okay?”
He shrugged awkwardly and didn’t meet her eyes. “There’s really nothing to be accomplished by telling her that I don’t like it black.”
She cocked her head. “But you don’t it like black.”
“Just don’t mention it, okay?” he snapped. “Honestly, is occasionally keeping your mouth shut that difficult?”
“Fine. Can I go?”
“Please do. And Sophie,” he said, stopping her for the third time.
She sighed and spun around. “Yeessssss?”
“That, um…moment by the ladder?”
“Yeah?” Her voice had gone unintentionally husky.
“It meant nothing. It never happened. Got it? You and I…We’re not…I’d never be—”
She felt the hot rush of humiliated anger. She might no longer be an actual prostitute, but apparently she was still a worthless tramp.
“I get it,” she spat out. “You’d never be interested in someone like me. Loud and clear.”
“Good, then,” he said with a nod. “We’re agreed, then—it was all a big mis—”
Sophie let the door slam before he could finish the sentence.
CHAPTER SIX