Twisted Love (Modern Romance #3) - Piper Lawson Page 0,41
up from my seat on the front porch where I’m poring over market data and prospectuses.
Dinner was in an intimate private dining room of the hotel with the family and a dozen or so guests. Richard and Aiden drew me into talks about technology and the future of retail, but I kept looking at Daisy. Studying her profile across the table, wondering what she was talking about in her own quiet conversation while I was part of another.
After dinner, she begged off of drinks, citing the need to work. “Do you want to come up with me? My work won’t take that long, and I can set up the Xbox for after,” she asked.
The air outside in the hall had felt heavy, which made no sense given the cool summer evening.
“I’ll be up in a bit. I’ll have a scotch on the porch first.”
She looked disappointed, but it was replaced with a smile so fast I might have imagined it. “Sure.” Her voice lowered, her gaze flicking past me toward the other guests lingering and laughing. “We should decide what to do about sleeping arrangements.”
“You can have the bed.”
“The couch isn’t a pullout. Your feet will dangle off the end.”
“I’ve slept in worse places.”
“In college. You’re used to five star. You came all the way here for me. I’m not going to make you slum it. We can share the bed.”
Now, I’ve been on the porch for two hours and there’s no other answer but that I’m avoiding my best friend.
“Can I help you forget whatever’s on your mind?” the woman, whose name I’ve forgotten, presses.
“My girlfriend’s upstairs.”
“It could be our secret.”
Her meaning is clear, but I’m not tempted. There’s no woman in this hotel, in the entire Vineyard, or hell, in Manhattan, who could draw my attention right now.
None who could look like Daisy did today, her hair blowing in the breeze as she managed the photography shoot, out of her element yet so wholly committed it didn’t faze her. Or in the dining room, easily charming the Vanes and their friends on the far side of the table, catching my eye once in a while for a shared smile that made me want to meet her beneath the table and prompt her to tell me exactly what she’d been thinking.
“We don’t keep secrets from one another,” I say at last. “We never have and never will.”
The woman sighs, the intent behind her gaze softening a little. “That sounds nice.”
With a tight smile, I go back to my reading, and she departs.
There’s only one problem. I feel as though I’m keeping a secret right now.
I’ve always liked spending time with Daisy. She’s intelligent and interesting and challenging, but today felt different. This whole damn week has been different.
Feelings are a stupid thing. When you’re not twenty anymore, you’re not ruled by them, or you shouldn’t be.
But these past days have been changing how I look at her.
“It's better to be the one whose love is unreturned than the one who's indifferent.”
Since she said those words, they've lingered in my mind.
The possibility of love that doesn’t wound and scar is so tempting I can’t forget it.
She caught me off guard today, waiting until there was no audience to brush her lips over mine. I wanted to slip the black straps off her shoulders and lower my lips to the skin there, to see if she’d offer more sweet words I never asked for.
Knowing she’s upstairs, I want to join her.
It’s why I don’t.
If she sits next to me on that couch, our knees and shoulders brushing, there’s no way I won’t make a move.
I want her smart mouth, her soft curves, her incomparable attention.
Instead, I pore over more work, reviewing documents for the tech company I want to fund. They’d be perfect—high risk, high reward. It’s how I roll.
Remembering Daisy’s thoughtfulness, her willingness to do things for her business that aren’t directly linked to her immediate profits, I revisit Holt’s proposal, giving it more than my cursory scan from two weeks ago.
My read confirms my initial suspicion—it’s not in the same league. Healthcare services are a slow build, requiring significant infrastructure, tons of legal agreements, not to mention insurance.
It’s a good idea, but there are gaps that would take months if not years to address. More venture funding isn’t the right fit, at least not from us.
When I finally go upstairs, there’s a light on by the door. I shut the door quietly, drop my jacket on the chair. The