“Are you older than her?” I ask, interrupting him.

“Yes, but only by a couple years.” I nod and he continues. “When I was four, my parents and I were in a car accident. They were both killed.”

I still, my hands still in the water, and turn to watch him. His face hasn’t changed. He’s telling the story as if it happened to someone else.

And, I pray to God that he doesn’t remember it, so that’s how it feels to him.

“How did you survive?” I ask quietly.

“I’m not sure. I know that I was pulled from the car by the first responders, but my parents were killed on impact.”

I dry my hands and wrap my arms around Rhys’s middle, holding him close, my cheek pressed to his chest. I can’t help it. That poor boy.

“Hey, I’m okay.” But he wraps his arms around me and kisses my head, then takes a long, deep breath. “But if I’d known this was the way to get you into my arms, I would have told you this story days ago.”

I laugh and pull away, then flick some clean water in his face, just for good measure. “Keep going.”

“Will you hug me again?” He’s playing. His mouth is smiling, but his green eyes have warmed again and he sighs as he waits for my answer.

“If you’re good.”

“Oh, sugar, I’m rarely good.” The raspy tone of his voice reignites that heat low in my belly. He leans in and whispers in my ear, “But I’m very, very good at being naughty.”

I turn my face to his; our lips are inches apart, our noses almost touching.

“I believe you,” I whisper, then take a deep breath when his eyes dilate and drop to my lips.

Which I lick.

Because hello, I just found my inner flirt.

And I like her. A lot.

“Keep going,” I repeat.

He clears his throat and turns away, then picks up where he left off. “After my parents passed, Kate’s parents came to Ireland and claimed me. They were my only family. So they brought me back to Denver and raised me.”

“So you and Kate were really raised as siblings.”

He nods thoughtfully. “And I was immediately enrolled in T-ball, and that was it. I was lost to the sport forever.”

“Sam was the same,” I offer with a grin. “It seems that he’s had a glove on his hand since birth.”

“He’s a natural. And he loves you.”

That makes me smile wide.

“Does that surprise you?”

“No. I know he loves me, but it makes me happy when it’s obvious to others too. It’s been just the two of us for a really long time.”

“You have your family,” he reminds me.

“Absolutely.” I nod vigorously and pull the plug on the water, letting it drain now that all the dishes are washed. “And I don’t think I could have done this without them. Especially when he was small and I was so damn young.”

“You’re amazing,” Rhys says quietly, leaning against the countertop.

“Why?”

“Your boy, this inn, who you are, are all something to admire about you. I saw you donate your day-old bread to the food bank.”

“It shouldn’t go bad,” I insist. “Rhys, I’m flattered, but I’m not anything special. I’m a mom who loves her kid, and that should just be a given. I work hard. I give to the less fortunate. I’m just a woman.” I shrug and start to turn away, but I’m suddenly pinned against the countertop, Rhys’s big body caging me in. He’s leaning on his hands, lowering himself to my eye level.

“You’re wrong. You are special.” His voice is raw and low. His thumb pulls the lower lip I didn’t realize I was biting out of my teeth. “You’re amazing, and I’ve barely scratched the surface with you.”

“You sure push me outside my comfort zone,” I whisper, not realizing until I hear the words that I’m speaking aloud.

“Nothing good ever came from comfort zones,” he counters and leans further into me. “Are you afraid of me?”

“No.” I smile and drag my fingertips down his cheek, and he turns his lips into my palm, closes his eyes and kisses me gently before returning his gaze to mine. “I’m just not very good at this.”

“Good at what, Gabby?”

I swallow. Hard. My breath is coming fast. My heart is pounding. The lightning bugs in my belly are having one hell of a party.

He nudges my nose with his. “Good at what?”

“Flirting. This.” I shake my head. “It’s been a really long time.”

“Good.” He grins and rubs his nose against mine again. His breath smells sweet from a scone he must have eaten before he came in here to find me. And just when I think he’s going to kiss me, and I mean really kiss me, he kisses my forehead and then backs away.

“Where are you going?”

“To tell Sam more stories about last season. He told me about his trip tomorrow.” He tosses me a mischievous smile. “I’m going to have you all to myself for a week.”

“Eight days,” I reply automatically, making his smile widen.

“Eight days. So, I’ll give Sam some attention tonight, and then you’re all mine for eight days.”

I frown and prop my hands on my hips, but inside I’m squealing like a teenager.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re going to exercise that flirty side, sugar.”

And with that, he winks and leaves the kitchen, and I’m left standing in a puddle of lust.