He glanced over his shoulder at her and smiled, and she suddenly felt weak in the knees. “You’re in time to join me for lunch,” he said.

She glanced at her watch and then back at him. “It’s a little early for lunch, isn’t it?”

“Nah. By the time I get these babies seasoned and fried and prepare the hush puppies and salad, it will be noon.”

Bryce had expected something like this, for him to invite her to lunch or to go out on the bayou in his boat or something similar that would require them to spend unnecessary time together. She had rehearsed all morning what she would say. “Thanks for the invite but I need to decline.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Why? Do you have plans for lunch?”

“No, but I’m here to discuss that Boston opportunity with you.”

“And we will. Over lunch. If you want to get started while I prepare everything, then check out the websites I’ve written down on the paper by my computer.”

“I’ve done research,” she said, holding up the folder in her hand.

“Good, then I’m curious to see what you got, and I want you to see what I came up with. We’ll compare.” He returned his attention to the fish in the sink.

She sighed, deciding not to get in a tit for tat with him about anything. The one thing she did wish was that she wasn’t drawn to his male magnetism. It had been that way when he’d helped her study and then when they’d been together at Eagle Bend Inlet.

Now, why was she remembering their time spent there? Especially their kiss. Had it been a week ago today? More than once on the drive here, she’d questioned whether she was making the right decision about taking him on as a client.

“Fine. Where is your computer?” she asked him.

He looked over at her again. “In my private office, which is connected to my bedroom upstairs. Once you reach the landing, it’s the room with the double doors. You have to go into my bedroom first to get to it.”

She felt an intense throb at the base of her throat. He had to be kidding. “Your bedroom?”

“Yes.”

“Could you bring your laptop down here so I sit at the kitchen table and use it?”

“I can’t.”

She frowned. “Why can’t you?”

“Because it’s a desktop.” He turned around to face her, leaned against the sink, crossed his arms over his chest and did the same for his legs at the ankles. That was when she noticed he was in his bare feet. There was just something about a laid-back look on a man.

“You aren’t afraid of going into my bedroom, are you?” he asked, staring at her. “I promise there’s not a thing in there to bite you.”

She straightened her shoulders. “That’s not the point.”

“And what is the point, Bryce?”

“You knew I was coming here for business and you—”