He stroked his chin at that and pretended to look thoughtful. Then he leaned in so his face was only inches from mine. “What if I beg?”

A small gasp escaped my lips. But before I could regain my composure and give him a response, Giles entered the room behind us.

“Breakfast is ready,” he said, giving us both a quizzical look. “Do you two know each other or something?”

“No,” I said at the same time Oliver said, “Yes.”

Giles furrowed his brow and looked to Mattie, who had stepped into the room behind him.

“They just met,” she clarified. “At the bar last night.”

“Oh, small world,” Giles said, still assessing the two of us. My brother-in-law wasn’t exactly the warmest and cuddliest of people, but we got along okay. He was more of a loner than anything. We’d hardly had a conversation alone since he and Mattie started dating. I knew she secretly hoped that my being here would spark a friendship between the two of us. I wasn’t opposed to the idea. I just simply didn’t know if I had the time.

“Did someone say breakfast was ready?” I asked, dying to change the subject and get away from the curious nature of Oliver’s stare.

“It’s on the table,” Mattie said, shooting me a devilish grin.

“After you,” Oliver said, placing his hand on my lower back and motioning toward the kitchen. He seemed to be reveling in every moment of my discomfort, and it drove me nuts.

I stepped away from his touch and moved into the dining room before sitting down for breakfast. Oliver took the seat across from me and winked before digging in.

I did my best to ignore his stolen glances throughout the meal and focus on my food.

So much for never seeing this guy again.

And so much for a kiss without consequences.

FOUR

Frankie

The small wooden cabin was lighter than I expected as I picked it up to examine it before setting it down with the rest of the small trinkets. The store smelled of pine and vanilla, which I had to imagine was due to the large assortment of candles in the back corner.

“What about this for Mom?” Mattie held up a pink-checkered sweater that did look exactly like something our mother would wear, except for one fact.

“Are you forgetting she lives in Florida?”

Mattie thrust the sweater into my hands. “Are you forgetting they’re taking another Alaskan cruise in a few months? Feel it. Isn’t it soft?”

The texture was indeed plush and luxurious. I fought the desire to bring it up to my cheek and nuzzle against it.

“I’m getting it,” Mattie insisted. “And I’m buying you this green one.” She held up an oversized cable-knit sweater that I’d been admiring when we first walked into the boutique.

“You don’t have to do that,” I protested, but she was already moving toward the checkout counter with the sweaters and a few additional items in hand.