Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Lavender

After my embarrassing encounter with Sinclair, I spend the rest of the day at Knightly's house. Staying for the next six weeks after what happened doesn't seem like a great idea anymore. It's around eleven when I finally find the courage to head back to the Bed and Breakfast. Holden Miller, the guy who was too old for me, but too hot not to have a crush on when I was in middle school, drives me to the B&B.

If he wasn't Knightly's brother-in-law, I would think about having that summer-rebound fling with him. I mean, it'd be pretty awkward if I ever came back to visit her family, wouldn't it?

Well, not as awkward as having to face Sinclair, I think as I step into the B&B and see him sitting by the living room, eyes focused on his computer and lips pressed together. Is he working instead of trying to relax while in Kentbury? This man needs a serious lesson on how to live.

Not that I will be imparting it. After what happened today, I need to figure out where to move—or live temporarily. I'm officially quitting the summer camp. Well, technically I haven't signed anything just yet, so it's okay, right?

I tiptoe toward the stairs, hoping to sneak past Sinclair unnoticed. My heart races as I carefully place each foot, holding my breath in anticipation. Just as I'm about to reach the first step, a deep voice comes from behind me. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you're avoiding me."

I freeze, my eyes widening as I slowly turn around. Sinclair towers over me, his tall frame looming intimidatingly. I tilt my head back, craning my neck to meet his gaze. "Umm, not at all. No," I stammer, my voice wavering slightly.

Sinclair raises an eyebrow. "Double negative is a yes," he teases, his tone playful and flirtatious.

I feel the heat rushing to my cheeks as I try to maintain my composure. "That wasn't a double negative," I argue, crossing my arms defensively. "There was definitely a slight pause between the not and no. And why would I be avoiding you? I mean, in a town like Kentbury, it's impossible to do such a thing."

This is just like when I tried to sneak out of the house and my parents would catch me in the act. I never got away with it, but at least they never got a confession out of me. It's not like I actually left the house—I always failed.

Sinclair leans in closer. "Yet, you mentioned something over dinner about leaving town soon—after our embarrassing encounter," he reminds me, his voice low and enticing.

I groan, burying my face in my hands. "God, I forgot this town is too gossipy for its own good," I mumble, my words muffled by my palms. I peek through my fingers, meeting Sinclair's amused gaze.

He chuckles, reaching out and gently pulling my hands away from my face. "Hey, it's okay. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," he assures me, his tone sincere. "I just wanted to clear the air and make sure we're good."

I nod, taking a deep breath to calm my nerves. "We're good," I confirm, offering him a tentative smile. "I'm just . . . a little embarrassed, that's all."

Sinclair grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Don't be. It's not every day a beautiful woman propositions me," he jokes, winking playfully.

I feel a flash of irritation, my eyes narrowing. "I never propositioned you. You were eavesdropping," I clarify. "Someone saw us by the lake, made up some corny story, and my sister was telling me to have sex with you. She called it a rebound fling . . . or something like that. I was actually trying to explain to her how ridiculous it was to even think about it."

He crosses his arms, giving me an ‘I don't believe you' look, one eyebrow raised skeptically. "Sure, that's how it happened."

I throw my hands up in exasperation. "I don't need you to believe me. Though, you were the one who said you'd be willing to negotiate."

"I said open to discuss it . . ." He gives me a thoughtful face, tapping his chin. "More like?—"

"Can we stop discussing that awkward moment?" I interrupt, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"We have to. According to my sisters, I can't have sex with you," he says, shrugging.

My eyes widen in shock. "Your sisters know?"

"McKay was with Knightly when your sister was discussing our situation with her."

I groan. "I adore my sister and I think her children will miss her a lot, I'm going to have to maim her and dispose of her body," I say, but then frown, looking at him, my brow furrowed in confusion. "So your sisters decided that I'm not good enough to have sex with you?"

I'm appalled, my mouth hanging open in disbelief. "Why? What is wrong with me?"

"It's not you. It's me," he says, holding up his hands in a placating gesture.

I scoff, rolling my eyes. "That's the typical line that really means, ‘But it's totally you, sweetheart.'"

"Not this time. Thanks to your proposal, Lou and McKay spent three hours discussing my marriage, the relationships I've had after that, and my current situation."

"You had relationships after that?" I ask, surprised.

He clears his throat, looking slightly uncomfortable. "Friends with benefits." He shifts his weight from one foot to the other. "Well, we weren't even friends, since I barely knew them and just kept them around to . . ."

His gaze trails, almost embarrassed. "The past isn't important. What matters is that now I need to make friends first, and once I have a deep connection I can decide if it's worth having more with any woman I meet."

I tilt my head, a playful smirk on my face. "Oh wow, it's like you were in the big leagues of relationships, and suddenly they sent you back to peewee to start from zero."

His lips press together in a tight line, unamused. "Really, sports analogies?"

I nod. "So even if I tell you what I'm wearing underneath, you'd just walk away?" I say teasingly, leaning in closer.

"That's the plan—unless we forge a deep connection," he says suggestively, his voice low and smooth.

"There's no way that can happen in . . . When are you leaving again?"

He looks at his watch, a confident grin spreading across his face. "Two weeks and probably ten hours." He wiggles his eyebrows. "I'm up for the challenge. From going to peewee to at least getting all the way to Division II. "

I scoff, shaking my head. "Cocky much?"

"No, I just feel like I need to win at something," he says, shrugging his shoulders.

I laugh, the sound light and carefree. "You might win my friendship, but you're not scoring with me, McFolley. I'm currently on a man embargo and I already swore off men like you."

He raises an eyebrow, curious. "Men like me?"

"Hot, dangerous, but unavailable. The next guy I date has to be open to a long-term relationship, be a supportive partner, who wants marriage, and at least one kid."

"You have a plan, but what if you stop living because you're too obsessed searching for a man who fills all of those requirements?" he asks, his tone serious.

"It's not a requirement checklist. That's what I want in my personal life. This time, I'm voicing it out what I want even before I accept a first date ."

He nods, a genuine smile on his face. "Those are reasonable boundaries. We can still be friends, right?"

I give him a skeptical look. "Can you make a real friend without wanting to see her naked?"

"Of course I can."

"Doubtful," I scoff.

"Challenge accepted," he says, a glint of determination in his eyes.

I turn to leave, waving over my shoulder. "Good night, Sinclair," I say, ignoring his challenge and walking away, a small smile playing on my lips.