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That I might like him.The answer flashes through my mind.
It’s an hour of my time at the most. He’d have to be absolutely irresistible to win me over that quickly.
With my confidence in my ability to resist him restored, I pull into his driveway and park behind his Jeep. His beach cottage isn’t much bigger than ours, but it’s got a decidedly masculine look to it. There’s an American flag mounted next to the dark-blue front door. A basketball hoop stands in front of the fence that encloses his back yard. There are no flower boxes on the windows, nor anywhere else, but his front lawn has recently been mowed. In fact, the mower is still in the driveway in front of his vehicle.Did he just take care of it before I got here?
My feet have barely met the driveway when he’s walking toward me with a wide smile stretching across his cheeks. “Welcome to casa O’Rourke.”
I tuck my keys in my pocket. “Nice place you got here.”
“Thanks. I like it.”
“You didn’t tell me you live near the beach.”
“I guess I didn’t. But now you know firsthand.” He winks.
I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. “I thought we’d be meeting at a restaurant.”
He scratches his chin. “I don’t remember mentioning that.”
“True, but you also failed to tell me I’d be coming to your house.”
“Did I give you the name of the restaurant?”
“No.”
“I gave you the street address. You assumed the rest.” He smirks.
He’s right. That’s exactly what happened.
I nod. “I did.”
“Are you okay with having dessert here? I grabbed stuff to make sundaes, but I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
It’s sweet of him to ask, so I allow a slight curve of my lips. “Sundaes sound good to me.”
He grins, hitting me with the full force of his straight, white teeth.Damn, he’s handsome.
It won’t be difficult staring at him for the next hour.Don’t forget he’s a football player and you’re not making that mistake again.
I need to keep these cautionary thoughts in the forefront of my mind. Otherwise, his stunning blue eyes might hypnotize me into making bad decisions.
“Let’s head inside,” he suggests. I walk next to him, making sure to keep some space between us. I’m only here because he helped me out; I don’t want to give off mixed signals. He opens the door and ushers me in first.
“Wow, this is beautiful.” My head swivels as I take in all the details. The vaulted ceilings with wooden beams make the space feel so much bigger than I imagined it was. On the far right side, centered in the middle of the long wall, is a floor-to-ceiling stone fireplace. The wooden mantel matches the decorative beams lining the ceiling. There are double french doors on either side of the fireplace with transoms above them that offer a view of the ocean.
I glance at Rogan and find him watching me with an amused expression. “Sorry. I guess I got carried away.”
“Don’t apologize. I still get overcome when I walk inside and I’ve been living here for over a year.”
“Did it look like this when you purchased it?” I feel like I’ve stepped into some architectural magazine’s layout.
He laughs. “Not at all. The rooms were chopped up, and there was knotty pine everywhere. It was a mishmash of styles from 1950 onward. It took six months of work before I could move in.”
“Whoever did your decorating nailed it.”
“That would be my sister, Maeve. She’s got a good eye, and she knows what I like.”
“Talent must run high in your family,” I say, and he laughs. “What’s funny about that?”
